Napier added huskily, 'I am commanded to place myself and Electra Electra at your wishes, sir.' He screwed up his eyes as he tried to recall exactly what Chater had told him. 'When he learned of at your wishes, sir.' He screwed up his eyes as he tried to recall exactly what Chater had told him. 'When he learned of Sparrowhawk's Sparrowhawk's loss he wished to send some marines to enlarge your force.' loss he wished to send some marines to enlarge your force.'

Bolitho nodded. 'But the marines have also sailed with the squadron, am I right?'

Napier replied miserably, 'Aye, sir.' Then he brightened and added, 'But I was ordered to embark a platoon of the Sixtieth Foot in their stead, sir.'

Keen, who had followed him aft, said quietly, 'That's something.'

Bolitho turned towards the windows while he tried to fit the pieces together.

Napier said brightly, 'But I expect you knew about the soldiers, sir. The commodore sent word with the courier-brig which sailed two days ahead of me.'

Bolitho swung round. 'What 'What did you say?' did you say?'

Napier paled. 'The courier, sir. Despatches for the admiral at Antigua, others for you, sir.' He looked to Keen for comfort. 'From England, sir.'

Keen exclaimed, 'You were right, sir. They must have caught and sunk the courier-brig too.'

Bolitho grasped his hands behind his back and squeezed them until the pain controlled his dismay.

From England. With despatches. And letters. News of Belinda. And now . . .

He looked at Keen. 'So you are convinced?' He did not hear his answer.

To Napier he said, 'Have you a capable first lieutenant?'

Napier was completely lost. For hours he had rehea.r.s.ed what he would say to Bolitho. He had had time to put on his best uniform. Now it had all shattered. Like opening a door to greet a friend and finding oneself confronted by a madman.

He managed to nod. 'Aye, sir. He is a good officer.'

'Just as well.' Bolitho looked at Keen. 'First opportunity tomorrow we will weigh and put to sea. In the meantime I shall endeavour to glean what I can from the gallant commodore's despatches. But before that that ..." He crossed to the table and poured Napier another gla.s.s of hock. 'We shall all drink a toast. You too, Allday.' ..." He crossed to the table and poured Napier another gla.s.s of hock. 'We shall all drink a toast. You too, Allday.'

Allday took a gla.s.s from Ozzard and watched the transformation in looks and tone.

Bolitho felt his mouth lift to a grin.

'A toast.' He raised his gla.s.s. 'To Mr Napier, the new acting-governor of San Felipe!'

'Sou'-west by south, sir! Steady she goes!'

Bolitho half listened to the helmsman's report but concentrated on the sprawling purple blur on the larboard horizon. It was afternoon and the sun still beat down on the slow-moving ship with relentless ferocity. But after the oppressive hostility in San Felipe it was like a tonic.

Bolitho could feel it in the ship around and beneath him, the cheerful banter of the seamen on deck. Mountsteven, who was officer of the watch, barely raised his voice as he supervised the final resetting of the fore-course.

Bolitho steadied his telescope and watched the vague suggestion of land, Haiti, which lay some fifteen miles to larboard. Despite the distance it had an air of menace. Whenever possible sailors avoided its sh.o.r.es with their tales of witchcraft and horrifying rites.

Achates had been delayed a further day in San Felipe for want of wind, but now with the prevailing north-easterly filling her topsails and courses she was standing down the Windward Pa.s.sage as if she was enjoying it. Here the Pa.s.sage between Cuba and Haiti was barely seventy miles wide, its narrowest part. In time of war it would be hard to force a convoy through, with San Felipe in enemy hands. The more he considered it, the less Bolitho could understand the reason for his orders. had been delayed a further day in San Felipe for want of wind, but now with the prevailing north-easterly filling her topsails and courses she was standing down the Windward Pa.s.sage as if she was enjoying it. Here the Pa.s.sage between Cuba and Haiti was barely seventy miles wide, its narrowest part. In time of war it would be hard to force a convoy through, with San Felipe in enemy hands. The more he considered it, the less Bolitho could understand the reason for his orders.

He handed the gla.s.s to one of the midshipmen and began to pace slowly up and down the quarterdeck. He hoped he had not been too hard on Commander Napier. The latter appeared to be relishing his new, if brief, appointment as temporary governor. With his fourteen-gun brig anch.o.r.ed below the powerful battery, and a smart platoon of the Sixtieth Foot, or the Royal Americans as they were still known, in the fortress, he was able to present a show of strength.

He saw some marines having their muskets and equipment inspected by Lieutenant Hawtayne. He was glad they were back on board where they belonged. It seemed very likely they would soon be needed again.

He hid a smile as the marine lieutenant said in his piping voice, 'Smarten yourself up, Jones! You've had had your rest ash.o.r.e!' your rest ash.o.r.e!'

Bolitho knew that the picture of the dead drummer-boy would last a long time in his memory.

He heard Adam's light step nearby and saw him waiting to speak.

'How is my flag-lieutenant today?' Adam smiled. It was the moment.

'Miss Robina is a fine girl, Uncle. I've never met anyone like her . . .'

Bolitho let it pour out without interruption. So that was the trouble. But for his own worries he would have realized that the ride to Newburyport would be a beginning rather than an ending.

'Have you asked her father for her hand in marriage?'

Adam blushed. 'It's far too soon, Uncle, that is, I hinted perhaps sometime in the future, that is, not the too too distant future . . . His voice trailed away and he stared at the dark water abeam. Then he said, 'I know she won't have me, of course. Her uncle knows. He was glad to get rid of me aboard one of his vessels.' distant future . . . His voice trailed away and he stared at the dark water abeam. Then he said, 'I know she won't have me, of course. Her uncle knows. He was glad to get rid of me aboard one of his vessels.'

Bolitho looked at him. Vivid Vivid was owned by Chase. It was strange that Tyrrell had not mentioned it. was owned by Chase. It was strange that Tyrrell had not mentioned it.

'Let us walk awhile, Adam.'

They paced back and forth for several minutes while the ship moved and worked around them.

Bolitho said, 'You have a future in the Navy, Adam. A good one, if I have any say in the matter. You come of fine sea-going stock, but so have many others. Whatever gain you make, and whatever achievements you have won, you will have done so without the use of privilege, remember that. Yours will be a better Navy, or should be when young officers like you have positions of authority. We're an island race. We shall always need ships and those brave enough to fight them.'

Adam glanced at him. 'It is what I want. Have wanted since I joined your Hyperion Hyperion as midshipman.' as midshipman.'

Bolitho looked down at the gun-deck and saw the seaman who had lost an eye being greeted by some of his messmates as he swayed uncertainly past an eighteen-pounder. He was still unused to it. But with his black eye-patch to conceal the oak.u.m which filled the empty socket he looked every inch a hero, and they were treating him as such.

Adam tried to find the words. 'Men like that one, Uncle. They mean a lot to you. They're not just ignorant hands, they matter, matter, don't they?' don't they?'

Bolitho faced him. 'They most certainly do. We must never take them for granted, Adam. There are plenty of others who do that!'

Adam nodded. 'When I sat in my father's old chair ..."

Bolitho asked quietly, 'At Newburyport? Where his ship was once sheltered?'

Adam looked away. He had not meant it to slip out quite like that, or so soon.

"They showed me, Uncle. It was the family name, you see. Not common in New England.'

'I'm glad. You've seen more than I.'

He heard Keen approaching and was suddenly thankful. It was not just Hugh's memory, what he had done to their father when he had deserted to fight for the American rebels, not because of that or the shame which-even Rivers had been quick to mention. Bolitho tried to face it. He was jealous. Hurt, even though it was ridiculous.

Keen touched his hat. 'Mr Tyrrell is in the chartroom with the master, sir. I think we should examine the next chart.' He glanced professionally at the clear sky. 'Should be able to maintain a fair speed all night at this rate.' He seemed oblivious to the awkward silence.

'Good, I'll come directly.' He nodded to his nephew. 'You too. It's all experience for whatever you intend.'

He hesitated outside the chartroom and said abruptly, 'Take charge, Val. I'm going aft. You can explain it all later.'

Adam asked anxiously, 'Are you feeling unwell, sir?'

Bolitho said, 'Just tired.'

He strode away and was soon lost in the shadows below the p.o.o.p deck.

He was unable to face all of them crammed together in the small s.p.a.ce of the chartroom. Knocker, the master, Quantock, Captain Dewar of the Royal Marines, and their a.s.sistants as well.

Bolitho had left another letter with Napier at San Felipe, and a copy to be sent by any other vessel which might happen to call at the harbour for supplies or water.

Not knowing about Belinda was tearing at him like claws. He had not realized how brittle his reserves had become. Not until Adam had reminded him of Hugh. My father's old chair. My father's old chair.

Before, Hugh had remained misty and obscure. Now he was here amongst them. Fighting for his place.

Bolitho slumped down on the stern seat and stared at the glistening froth left by Achates' Achates' rudder. rudder.

Allday padded in from the dining s.p.a.ce. 'Can I fetch you a gla.s.s, sir?' He was careful to keep his voice level.

'No, but thank you.' Bolitho twisted round to look at him. 'You are the only one who really knows me, do you understand that?'

'Sometime I do, an' then again sometime I don't, sir. By an' large I think I sees the man man more'n others do.' more'n others do.'

Bolitho lay back and breathed in the damp air. 'G.o.d, Allday, I am in h.e.l.l.' But when he looked again Allday had vanished.

He watched a fish jumping astern. Who could blame Allday? He was probably ashamed of seeing his secret despair.

But Allday, as was his wont, had gone to his tiny, screened-off mess which he shared with his two friends, Jewell, the Achates' Achates' sailmaker, and the boatswain's mate Christy whom he had known in the sailmaker, and the boatswain's mate Christy whom he had known in the Lysander Lysander at the Nile. at the Nile.

Three great tots of rum later he presented himself at Keen's cabin door.

The captain's clerk regarded him warily. 'What do 'ee want, Allday?'

The clerk winced as Allday breathed out the heavy fumes. 'Request to see the cap'n.'

It was unorthodox, and Keen was feeling weary after the discussion in the chartroom. But he knew Allday, and owed him his very life.

'Come in and close the door.' He dismissed his clerk and asked, 'What is it, man? You look like someone intent on a fight?'

Allday took another long breath. 'It's the admiral, sir. He's carryin' more'n his share. It's not fair . . . '

Keen smiled. So that was all. He had imagined something terrible had occurred.

Allday continued, 'I just wanted to say my piece, sir, seein' you're a decent man an' a real friend to 'im down aft. It's somethin' the flag-lieutenant said to 'im. I feel it in me bones. Somethin' which wounded 'im deeply.'

Keen was tired but he was intelligent and quick-witted. He knew he should have seen it. The unusual strangeness between the vice-admiral and his nephew.

He said, 'Leave it with me, Allday. I understand.'

Allday studied his face and then nodded. 'Had to speak, sir. Otherwise, officer or not, I'll put the flag-lieutenant across my knee and beat the h.e.l.l out of 'im!'

Keen stood up. 'I didn't hear that, Allday.' He smiled gravely. 'Now be off with you.'

For a long while Keen sat at his table and watched the sun dying on the gently heaving sea.

He had a million things to do, for somehow he knew they would be called to fight very soon now. Like Allday, he thought, in me bones. in me bones. The memory did not amuse him but he found that he was able to forget the conference, Quantock's silent disapproval and the man Tyrrell's brash promises to lead them to a place where they could hold an advantage against the other ship. The memory did not amuse him but he found that he was able to forget the conference, Quantock's silent disapproval and the man Tyrrell's brash promises to lead them to a place where they could hold an advantage against the other ship.

And all because of Allday. He had known Bolitho's c.o.xswain on and off for eighteen turbulent years. Years of hardship and war, of momentary distractions and the incredible joy of staying alive when that seemed an impossibility.

One word stood out where Allday was concerned. Loyalty. Loyalty.

Keen reached wearily for the bell to summon his clerk.

He doubted if many people could describe what loyalty was, but he had been privileged to see what it looked like.

11.

Revenge.

'All hands, all hands! Hands aloft an' loose topsails!'

Bolitho stood at the quarterdeck rail and watched the dripping cutters being secured yet again on their tier. Achates Achates had anch.o.r.ed for several hours while the boats had been lowered to examine an inlet where a ship might be concealed. As on all the other occasions, they had returned with nothing to report. had anch.o.r.ed for several hours while the boats had been lowered to examine an inlet where a ship might be concealed. As on all the other occasions, they had returned with nothing to report.

Bolitho shaded his eyes from the intense glare to look at the land. Santo Domingo was just a few miles to the north-west, then the Mona Pa.s.sage, back to the northern approaches where they had started.

Two weeks wasted. Making use of winds which would barely move a leaf on an inland stream.

He watched the big topsails flapping and filling as the ship heeled slightly on her new tack.

Keen crossed the quarterdeck and waited for Bolitho to face him.

'With respect, sir, I think we should return to San Felipe.'

Bolitho replied, 'I know these waters well, Val. You can hide a fleet if need be. You think I'm mistaken, don't you?' He touched his crumpled shirt and smiled. 'I don't blame you. These past weeks have been hard on all of us.'

Keen said, 'I'm worried for you, sir. The longer we wait ..."

Bolitho nodded. 'I know. My head on the block. I've always understood that.'

The shrouds creaked as the wind increased a little to fill the sails. High above the decks the extra lookouts strained their eyes and silently cursed their officers for their discomfort.

Bolitho heard the heavy tap of Tyrrell's wooden stump and turned to greet him. Keen made his excuses and moved to another part of the quarterdeck. His mistrust and growing suspicion were obvious.