`You smile, Captain? At me? At my boldness perhaps?' He reached out and took her hand. `Not that. Never.' She tossed her head. `That is better, Captain.'
He heard Allday's shoes on the sand, the sudden silence from
the gig.
`The name is Richard,' he said gravely.
Allday heard their combined laughter and felt suddenly
worried. This was a danger he could recognise well enough,
far better than his captain, he thought.
He removed his hat as Bolitho walked down the beach to
wards the gig, and heard him say, `I will be ashore later, ma'am.' She held the hat brim to shade her eyes. `Until then, Captain.' But Allday had seen the look on her face before it was hidden
in shadow. That, too, was something he could recognise. He
glanced quickly at the tower above the fort and took a deep
breath. Squalls ahead, he decided, and not too far away. Bolitho looked at him. `Well?'
Allday's face was rigid. `So it would appear, Captain.'
Three days after returning to Teluk Pendang His Majesty's frigate Undine weighed anchor again and put to sea. By late afternoon of that day she stood well out in the glittering expanse of the Java Sea with not even a cormorant for company.
To any casual observer who might have watched her departure there was little to betray her mauling from Argus's cannon, but as Bolitho came on deck he was well aware of it.
Shrouds and stays which had been cut by grape and catus shone brightly in their fresh tar. Deck planking, hastily placed, looked duller than the well-tried and holystoned W,,' )6f which had been in the ship since she had been built. The s;,,, maker and his mates had been busier than most, and even nccr, as he walked slowly along the weather side, Bolitho saw Jots Tait squatting with some helpers, his one eye gleaming watdr fully as with needles and palms they continued with th;' patching.
Fowlar, who was master's mate of the watch, touched forehead and reported, `South-west by south, sir.' He gestwcd abeam. `A bit of a swell, and Mr. Soames has gone forrard check the gun lashings.'
Bolitho glanced at the compass and then the set of each,,',' by turn. He had already noticed the steep, sickening motion but it was too early to gauge its importance. The barornett, was unsteady, but that was usual in these latitudes, and wl' he had consulted Mudge he had chosen his words carefully,
`Could be in for a storm, sir. You never know in these waters
He nodded to Fowlar and walked to the quarterdeck feeling the sun lingering on his shoulders and face. It was a wind, he thought, but sultry, and somehow depressing.
He saw Herrick speaking with Soames by the starboard twelve-pounders. The boatswain was there, too, pointing various repairs yet to be done, and through the main hatch he heard the lively sounds of a jig from the ship's fiddler. Normal, everyday sights and noises. He shifted wearily and began ,o pace up and down the weather side.
From one corner of his eye he saw Soames climb from th. gun deck, make as if to approach him, and then return to the opposite side of the deck. Bolitho was relieved. Soames had proved himself a tower of strength in a fight, but as a conversationalist he was heavy and limited.
And Bolitho needed to be left alone. To think. To examine the rights and the wrongs of what he had done. With the laj,d left far astern, and once more abandoned to his own resources! he could view everything much more clearly. Now, as his shadow bobbed and swayed above the black six-pounders, he decided there were far more wrongs than rights.
Inevitable? Something which either of them could have stopped in a second merely by a word, a hint even? He recalled the way she had watched him across the table while the others had talked and chattered the night away. Capitan Vega had entertained them with a song so sad it had brought tears to his eyes. Puigserver had spoken of his adventures in the South Americas and the West Indies before the war. Raymond had become steadily drunk after getting into a fruitless argument with Major Jardine on the possibilities of a lasting peace with France.
Conway had remained terribly sober, or if not, Bolitho
thought he must be a better actor than he had imagined. When then, had the actual moment of decision arrived? He had found himself on the upper rampart with her at his side, leaning over the rough timber to look at the anchored ships in the bay. They had made a fine picture. Tiny lights reflected on the uneasy water, the pale splash of oars as a guardboat patrolled monotonously around its heavier charges. Without looking at him she had said, `I want you to stay on shore tonight. Will you?'
Perhaps that had been the moment? He had felt reckless, dangerously so.
`I'll send a message to my first lieutenant.'
He turned to stare along the deck. Herrick was still talking to Shellabeer, and he wondered if he had guessed what had occurred.
He could remember the room exactly. More like a cell, with fewer luxuries than a lieutenant's cabin in a man-of-war. He had lain on the bed, his fingers locked behind his head, listening to the strange noises beyond the walls and the rapid beats of his own heart.
Cries from the jungle, the occasional call of a picket challenging one of the sergeants of the guard. Wind murmuring around the square tower without response from deck or rigging which was his normal life.
Then he had heard the sound of her footstep in the passageway, a quick whisper to her maid before she opened the door and shut it quickly behind her.
It was becoming harder to remember in perfect sequence. The continuity was confused. He could recall holding her tightly against his body, the warmth of her mouth on his, the sudden, overwhelming, desperate need which threw all last caution to the winds.
There had been no light in the tiny room, but that from the moon. He had seen her only briefly, her bare shoulder and thigh shining like silver before she had climbed on to the bed, pulling him down and down, until at last, spent and gasping with the extent of their desire they had lain together as one.
He could not remember sleeping at all. Just holding her, needing her, tortured by the realisation it could not last.
Once during the night and towards dawn she had whispered in his ear, `Do not reproach yourself. It is not a question of honour. It is a part of life.' She had put her lips to his shoulder and had added softly, `What a lovely smell you have. Of the ship. Salt and tar.' She had giggled quietly. `I must have it, too.'
Then the nervous tap on the door, the quick scramble to pull on her gown as her faithful maid warned of the coming of another day.
But for Bolitho it had been different from all other days. He felt totally unlike anything he had been before. Alive, yet restless. Replete, but needing more.
He heard steps on the deck and saw Herrick watching him.
`Yes, Mr. Herrick?'
`Wind's freshening again, sir. Shall I call the hands to reef tops'ls?' He ran his eyes across the ship. `Rigging's straining a'piece by the sound of it.'
`We'll give her her head a while longer. Until eight bells if possible, when we -change tack and run to the west'rd. No sense in tiring the hands when one operation will suffice.' He leaned back, hands on hips as he stared at the main topgallant masthead, the long pendant undulating in the wind. `She's a
lot of power to offer us yet.'
`Aye, sir.' Herrick sounded tired.
`Is anything wrong?'
Bolitho walked to the weather rail and out of earshot of Soames and two seamen who were splicing halliards.
Herrick said quietly, `You know already, sir. I've said my piece. What's done is done.'
Bolitho watched him gravely. `Then let us leave it well alone.'
Herrick sighed. `Very well, sir.' He looked at the helmsmen.
`I'm sorry I could only get four extra hands. Neither Bedford nor the Rosalind were eager to part with any more. And those I did obtain are troublemakers by the cut of them.' He gave a slow smile. `Although Mr. Shellabeer assures me they will change their ways before another dawn.'
Midshipman Armitage ran up the l
adder and touched his hat.
To Herrick he stammered, `Mr. Tapril's respects, sir, and would you join him in the magazine.'
Herrick asked, `Is that all?'
The boy looked uncomfortable. `He said you'd promised, sir.' `And so I did, Mr. Armitage.'
As the midshipman hurried away Herrick said, `I was going to arrange to have the powder casks inspected and marked again. No sense in losing good powder.' He lowered his voice. `Look, sir, are you sure you cannot see the folly of what you are doing? There is no telling what damage it might do to your career.'
Bolitho swung towards him and then saw the anxious concern on Herrick's face.
He replied, `I am relying on your lady luck, Thomas!'
He walked towards the cabin hatch, adding for Soames's benefit, `Call me the moment there is a change.'
Soames watched him go and then walked aft to the compass.
Fowlar watched him warily. Once back in England, he, too, would get the chance to obtain a commission as lieutenant. The captain had said as much, and that was good enough. But if he did make that first all-important step up the ladder, he hoped he would be happier about it than Lieutenant Soames appeared to be.
Soames rasped, `Mr. Fowlar, your helmsmen are wandering off a point or so! Damn my eyes, I don't expect that from you!'
Fowlar watched him move away and smiled to himself. There was nothing wrong with the helm, and Soames knew it. It was part of the game.
He said, `Watch your helm, Mallard.'
Mallard transferred a plug of tobacco from one cheek to the other and nodded.
`Aye, Mr. Fowlar, sur.'
The watch continued.
Before the last dog watch had run its course it was obvious the rising wind made it necessary to reef topsails.
Bolitho gripped the hammock nettings and faced along his ship's length as he watched the petty officers checking their men in readiness for going aloft, while Shellabeer and his own hands were already busy scrambling about the boat-tier with further lashings.
Herrick shouted above the wind, `A second reef within the hour, sir, if I'm any judge!'
Bolitho turned aft and felt the spray as it hissed freely above the weather quarter. The wind- had backed rapidly and now blew lustily from the south-east, making the motion both violent and uncomfortable.
He replied, `We will steer due west once we have reefed. On the larboard tack she will be steadier.'
He watched the great, steeply banked swell, like serried lines of angry glass hills. When the wind got up further, those rounded rollers would break into heavy waves.
Bolitho heard Mudge shout, `We're in for a blow right enough, sir!' He was'clinging to his misshapen hat, his small eyes watering in the wind. `The barometer is poppin' about like a pea on a drum!'
Davy shouted, `All mustered, sir!'
`Very well. Hands aloft.' Herrick held up his hand. `Keep them from racing each other, and stop the bosun's mates from using their rope's-ends.' He glanced at Bolitho. `One slip, and a man would go overboard without a chance of recovery.'
Bolitho agreed. Herrick always remembered things like that.
He said, `I hope this doesn't last too long. If we have to ride it out it will upset Admiral Conway's other arrangements, I have no doubt.'
He looked up as faint shouts and curses told him of the struggle the topmen were having with the violent, unruly canvas. Fisting and kicking, pitching this way and that, with the deck far below, the very sight of their efforts made him feel queasy.
It took the best part of an hour to master the sails to Herrick's satisfaction, and by then it was time to take in yet another reef.
Spray and spindrift whipped across the weather side, and every timber and stay seemed to be groaning in a protesting chorus.
Bolitho shouted, `Lay her round another point, Mr. Herrick! We will steer west-by-south!'
Herrick nodded, his face running with spray. 'Afterguard to the mizzen braces!' He shook his speaking trumpet angrily. `Keep together, damn you!'
A marine had slipped and fallen in a scarlet heap, knocking several of his comrades into confusion.
Bolitho pointed abeam, to the first glitter of white crests as the wind did its work.
`She's steadier, Mr. Herrick 1' He relaxed as the experienced seamen rushed aft to help the marines and less skilled hands on the mizzen braces. `And not a man hurt, by the looks of it!'
Undine had paid off stiffly to the wind, her shrouds and ratlines shining jet-black against the rising swell. But with her yards comfortably braced, and canvas reduced to topsails and jibs, she was making the best of it.
Davy panted on to the quarterdeck, his shirt wringing and sodden.
`All secure, sir!' He lurched backwards, tottered and then reeled against the nettings, adding savagely, `By the Lord, I'd forgotten what a real gale felt like 1'
Bolitho smiled. `Dismiss the watch below. But tell the boatswain to make regular inspections. We can't afford to lose precious gear for want of a good lashing.' He turned to Herrick. `Come below with me.'
Despite the din of sea and strained timbers it seemed warm and inviting in the cabin. Bolitho watched the spray making diagonal patterns across the stern windows, heard the rudder grinding and squeaking while the helmsmen held the frigate on her new course.
Noddall pattered into the cabin, his small body steeply angled as he fetched goblets for the two officers.
Herrick wedged himself in a corner of the bench seat and regarded Bolitho questioningly.
`If we have to run before the wind, would it make so much difference, sir?'
Bolitho thought of his written orders, Conway's brief but lucid instructions.
`It might.' He waited until they both had goblets and said, `To what we can achieve, Thomas !'
errick chuckled. `I'll share that toast.'
Bolitho sat at the desk, feeling the deck tilting and then sliding into yet another trough.
He was glad he had insisted that Keen and some of the other wounded had been left at Pendang Bay. Too much of this sort of motion would burst open even the finest stitches.
He said, `Admiral Conway intends to let Bedford put to sea as soon as we are on our way to the Benua Islands. I think he wishes to get rid of the Spanish troops and dependents as soon as possible.'
Herrick watched him. `Bit risky, isn't it, sir? With the damned Argus still at large?'
Bolitho shook his head. `I think not. I am certain the French or Muljadi will have agents watching Conway's settlement. They will have seen us weigh anchor. Argus will know we are coming well enough.'
Herrick looked glum. `They are as clever as that, eh?'
`We must assume so. I think Conway is right. Better to get Bedford away with her passengers and despatches for Madras before things get any worse.'
`If there's a real storm, it'll put paid to everything.' Herrick cheered up somewhat. `The Frogs don't like bad weather.'
Bolitho smiled at Herrick's confidence. `This one may not care. He has been in these waters a long time, I believe. He is not one of the hit-and-run kind who used to dash out of Brest or Lorient and flee for home again at the sight of an English ship.' He rubbed his chin. `This Le Chaumareys interests me, I would like to know more of him than his record in battle.'
Herrick nodded. `He appears to know a lot about you, sir,,
'Too much.'
A steep roller cruised beneath the quarter, holding the ship up and tilting her forward at a steeper angle before freeing her again to sidle into the next rough. Beyond the closed door them heard the marine sentry slip and fall, his musket clattering away while he cursed and fought to regain his composure.
Bolitho said slowly, `When we meet with Argus's captain ve must keep our eyes well opened. If he agrees to parley, we may learn something. If not, we must be ready to fight.'
Herrick frowned. `I'd rather fight, sir. It's the only way l know how to be at ease with a Frenchman.'
Bolitho thought suddenly of that room at the Admiralty, the
calm features of Admiral Winslade as he had given a brief outline of Undine's mission. Four months back. A time of peace, yet ships had foundered, and men had been killed or crippled for life.
But even the lordly power of admiralty, the guile and experience of politics were useless out here. A solitary, wind-swept frigate, minimum resources, and no guiding hand when one might be needed.
Herrick took Bolitho's quiet mood as a signal. He placed his goblet inside the table fiddles and rose carefully to his feet.
`Time to do my rounds, sir.' He cocked his head to listen as water gurgled and sluiced along the quarterdeck scuppers. `I have the middle watch, and may snatch a cat-nap before I face the breeze.'
Bolitho pulled out his watch and felt Herrick looking at it. `I will turn in now. I have a notion we may all be needed before long.'
In fact, it felt only minutes after his head had touched the pillow that someone was clinging to the cot and tapping his shoulder. It was Allday, his shadow rising and falling like a black spectre as the cabin lantern swung violently from the deckhead.
`Sorry to wake you, Captain, but it's getting far worse up top.' He paused to allow Bolitho's brain to clear. `Mr. Herrick told me to pass the word.'
Bolitho stumbled out of the cot, instantly conscious of a new, more uneven motion. As he pulled on his breeches and shoes and held out his arms for a heavy tarpaulin coat he asked, `What time is it?'
Allday had to shout as the sea thundered against the hull and surged angrily along the upper deck.
'Morning watch is about to be called, sir!'
`Tell Mr. Herrick! Call them now!' He gripped his arm and together they lurched half across the cabin like two tipsy sailors. `I want all hands directly! I'm going to the chart space.'
He found Mudge already there, his lumpy figure sprawled across the table while he peered at the chart, blaspheming quietly as the lantern went mad above his head.
Bolitho snapped, `How is it?'
He glanced up at him, his eyes red in the feeble glow.
`Bad, sir. We'll 'ave the canvas in shreds unless we lie to for a bit.'
Bolitho peered at the chart. Plenty of sea-room. That was the only consolation.
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