Colours Aloft! (27 page)

Jobert must have imagined that
Barracouta
was one of Nelson's ships, the vanguard of his blockading squadron off Toulon.

He said, “But he'll not survive a passage to Malta.”

Allday persisted, “He'll never leave 'is ship, sir!”

Bolitho shook his head. “I think otherwise. This time.”

Keen was waiting for him, his face full of questions.

How different were
Argonaute
's decks, Bolitho thought. Order, purpose. But despair was infectious; it would soon spread, with
Helicon
's hull a constant reminder to them.

He said, “Captain's conference, Val, this afternoon if possible. If the wind gets up, it might be days before I can speak with them together.”

Keen looked across at
Helicon
and said quietly, “There's the heart of a ship, sir.”

Bolitho shaded his eyes and saw a thin fragment of sail being hoisted between the fore and mainmast stumps.

He said, “Inch's heart.”

He pictured Jobert's squadron in his mind. It was not formed for a diversion or merely to seek revenge. If the latter offered itself, then so much the better, but there was far more to it. Was it to draw Nelson's blockade from Toulon so that Admiral Villeneuve's main fleet could break out in force? With Gibraltar under siege from another fever, it was unlikely that any English ships would stay there to act as a deterrent. Jobert might well try for the Strait. Bolitho dismissed the idea at once. Jobert could have done that already, could be in Brest by now if he had managed to slip past the blockade there.

Bolitho made his way aft as Keen called out to the signals midshipman to pipe his assistants on deck. Allday watched him and noticed that he was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he did not even falter or hesitate when the deck tilted in the swell.

Bolitho walked through the screens and made his way right aft to stare through the stern windows. He should have been exhausted, worn down by shock and a sense that he had failed. Instead his mind seemed to have taken on a new edge, sharpened still further whenever he thought of Inch, lying over there in his stricken ship.

Keen entered and said, “The signal is bent on, sir.” He sounded strained.

Knowing Keen, he was probably blaming himself for what had happened. If he had not been recalled to Malta—

Bolitho faced him. “Dismiss any doubts from your mind, Val. At least by going to Malta I discovered something I might never have known otherwise.”

“Sir?” Keen was astounded by Bolitho's demeanour.

“Hoist the signal, and call our gallant captains.” He waited until Keen was almost at the door. “And, Val, when you next hold her in your arms you will
know
that Fate left you no choice.”

Bolitho walked to the windows and out onto the gallery with its two smiling mermaids.

He heard a shout and guessed that the signal had broken aloft. He would speak with his captains. Repair the damage. Restore their confidence. He saw
Helicon
drift slowly into view.

But not you, dear old friend, you have done your share.

During the day the wind rose only slightly, but there were more clouds and perhaps a hint of rain.

Bolitho stood aft by the windows again and watched his captains as they sat in their various attitudes in the great cabin. Not the wardroom this time. He wanted no retreat. There was none. He had gone through the details of Jobert's squadron, its strength, and its possible purpose.

“There is nothing to gain from remaining in the gulf, gentlemen. I intend to sweep to the south-east'rd. If Jobert has headed west to pass through the Strait then we have already lost him. If not—” He looked at their intent faces, “then we must find him and call him to action.”

There were muffled shouts from the main deck and the cabin quivered as two of
Helicon
's thirty-two-pounders were lowered on board.

Bolitho said, “Those guns will be conveyed to
Rapid
tomorrow.” He saw her young commander start up in his chair as if he had been only half listening.

Quarrell stammered, “Too heavy, sir, I mean—”

Bolitho eyed him bleakly. “You have shipwrights and a carpenter, I believe? I want you to mount two guns forward as bow-chasers. By shifting ballast and stores and shoring up the deck you should manage it easily enough. I once commanded a sloop-of-war—she was not much bigger and had a very heavy bow armament. So
do
it.”

Captain Montresor said, “My steering is repaired, sir. I had no way of knowing.” He looked bitterly at Houston. “I
wanted
to fight. I didn't expect
Helicon
to stand alone.”

Captain Houston sat with his arms folded, unrepentant.

He said, “My ship had fallen too far astern because of the wind and that damned mist. I saw
Despatch
was in trouble.” His thin mouth opened and shut, each word rationed. “I would have been a target and nothing more had I gone to assist
Helicon.
Anyway, I knew the Frogs would do for the lot of us piecemeal, so I decided to take Montresor in tow.”

Bolitho nodded. So typical of the man, he thought. Hard, uncompromising, but in this case right. His choice had been straightforward, in his view at least. Save a ship or lose the squadron.

He said, “Jobert has a purpose for everything he does. So far he has been one step ahead of us.” He saw Keen watching him grimly. He knew that by quitting their station he was taking a huge responsibility, a greater risk to himself. It was odd, but it no longer mattered. After the court of inquiry at Malta he was a marked man anyway. He felt lightheaded. It was beyond personal risk and reputation now.

Houston said in his harsh voice, “We shall have to consider where and when we will replenish water supplies, sir.”

Bolitho looked at him, suddenly aware of the shadow across his left eye. It taunted him but for once he was able to ignore it.

“There will be no watering, Captain Houston.” He glanced at the others. “For any of us. Cut the ration, halve it if need be, but we stay together until this is finished.” He did not add
one way or the other
but the thought was obvious on their faces.

“I need all the information we can gather. Coastal craft must be stopped and searched thoroughly. If they are neutral, do it just the same. If not, sink them.” He felt the hardness creep into his tone, like that other time. It made him think of Herrick, the pain in his blue eyes when he had left
Benbow.
In his heart Bolitho knew Herrick had acted only as he saw fit. Bolitho hated any sort of favouritism and despised those who used it for advancement or personal gain in the Navy. Yet he had done exactly that for Keen, and because Herrick was his friend. What would he have done had he been in Herrick's position and another had asked a favour of him? But the thought of what it had cost in lives made him shy away from an answer. Inch was a broken man. If he lived it was unlikely he would ever tread his own deck again. He saw some of them glance at him as he unwittingly touched his left eye. That thought was always there.
Suppose I lost the sight of my right eye?
Blind, as he had been in
Supreme,
but forever.

Captain Lapish asked, “Will Jobert have any more ships at his command, sir?” He even sounded more confident than before.

Bolitho gave a grave smile. “Are there not enough already?”

Houston muttered, “Two frigates, y'say? And we've but one.”

Commander Quarrell exclaimed, “My brig is worthy enough!”

Bolitho said, “Save your steel for the enemy, all of you. Drill your people until they can point and fire in their sleep. Make each one aware that the enemy is human, not a god. We can and will beat him, for I believe we are the only bulwark 'twixt Jobert and his objective.”

The deck tilted heavily and a book slithered from the table.

Bolitho said, “Return to your ships. If there is rain, gather it as part of the rations. Whenever you need to search or seek out small craft, use your boats to full advantage. I want our people to be ready to fight and to expect trouble in advance.”

Houston commented, “
Léopard
is a second-rate, I believe, sir?”

Bolitho saw the blunt reminder move round the others like a chill wind through corn.

He glanced at Keen. “My flag-captain took on this ship and two frigates at once, Captain Houston. Battered we may be, but you will see that we are both still here!”

Quarrell laughed outright and grinned at his friend Lapish. They had both learned a lot in a short while. And they were still too young to nurse fear for long.

After the captains had been seen over the side Keen returned to the cabin and asked, “Do you already know what Jobert is about, sir?”

“When I am certain I shall tell you, Val. Until then we must make sure that our ships do not grow slack or careless. A lack of vigilance now can mean only defeat.”

The sentry called, “Surgeon, sir!”

Tuson entered and eyed them curiously. “You sent for me, sir?”

Bolitho said, “Make arrangements to ferry Captain Inch aboard. I fear the weather may change.”

Tuson nodded. “He was speaking with me when I was aboard
Helicon
earlier, sir. He is in great pain, but I would prefer him here in my care.”

Bolitho said, “I know that.” He watched the surgeon leave and said, “If
Helicon
gets into difficulties en route for Malta, it were better that Inch be with us. He'd be on deck, taking charge, otherwise.”

Keen smiled, “Like you, sir.” He moved to the chart. “A needle in a haystack. Damn Jobert! He might be anywhere.”

Bolitho walked to the table and caught his foot in a ringbolt and almost lost his balance. He felt the touch of fear once more. He thought of Inch returning home. What would his pretty Hannah think? What might Belinda think, for that matter? Even if Adam had not told her of the full extent of his injury, his handwriting in that last letter would make her realize something was wrong. The letter. He thought of the way his words had poured out; it had been as if he had been listening to his own voice. It was so unlike him; he was almost sorry he had written to her of his innermost hopes and fears, of the love which had burned with such passion and which he had imagined was gone forever.

Keen said suddenly, “It breaks a confidence, sir, but, like you, I cannot bear to see Allday in the doldrums.”

“You know something, Val?”

Keen sat on a chair. Half of him needed to be on deck, but Paget could deal with most things now. The other half wanted to be here, with this one man who had risked so much for his happiness and had shown no regrets for it.

“My cox'n told me, sir. Old Hogg is a solid fellow and cares for little in this world but himself and, I believe, for me. Also Allday confides in him occasionally.” Water laced the stern windows and Bolitho tried not to think of Inch being swayed down into a lively boat for the crossing. A sudden shock could kill a man in his condition.

Keen said, “It seems that young Bankart believed Allday would soon quit the sea after being wounded so badly at San Felipe. He had learned of his life in Falmouth with you, sir, of his security there. He wanted to share it. He had had enough of farm work, and a life at sea didn't appear to satisfy him even though he is a volunteer.” He watched Bolitho's profile and asked, “Can we be certain that Bankart
is
his son, sir?”

Bolitho smiled. “If you had known Allday when he first came aboard my ship,
Phalarope,
that was twenty years ago, remember, you'd not need to ask. He is exactly like him, in looks anyway.”

Keen stood up as the bell chimed out from the forecastle. “As his captain I shall deal with it, sir. It might be better if he is discharged when we reach England.”

They stared at each other, startled by the word. England.

Bolitho looked away. It seemed likely they might never see green fields again.

“I shall speak to Allday myself, Val. A troubled man is often the first to fall in battle.”

Keen raised his head to listen to the sounds on deck.

He said, “You brought the squadron together today, sir. I watched the others and saw the pride coming back to them.”

Bolitho shrugged. “I should have been with them, with Inch. But recriminations will not give him back an arm.”

He heard a sudden wave of cheering and said, “We'll go on deck. This will be an ordeal for Inch.”

Keen hurried beside him. “I'll tell Mr Paget to stop the hands from doing it!”

Bolitho shook his head. “No. Let them.”

On the quarterdeck Bolitho saw Big Harry Rooke, the boatswain, supervising the tackle on a chair to sway Inch's cot over the side. Across the water the listing
Helicon
was pitching heavily in the swell, her gangway lined with tiny faces as they watched the slow-moving boat which approached the flagship with such care. Bolitho adjusted his swordbelt and tugged his hat down over his forehead.