Signal Close Action (48 page)

Herrick breathed out deeply. 'Thank the Lord for that.'

Inch stared at him. 'No, sir, I beg to differ. There was a great storm, and Nelson's ships were scattered, his own completely dismasted and almost run ashore. He had to make for shelter to effect repairs. To St. Peter's at Sardinia.'

Herrick groaned. "That's bad!'

Inch shook his head. 'Well, in
some
ways, sir.'

Bolitho said, 'C
ome, man,
spit
it
out?

Inch grinned apologetically. 'Nelson's repairs delayed his plans, but allowed his other reinforcements to join him. He now commands fourteen sail of the line, but
-'
He saw Herrick's face and added hurriedly, "The truth is, sir, the same gale which dismasted
Vanguard
allowed the French to slip past.' He looked from one to the other. "The French are out, sir.'

Herrick said bitterly, 'And they escaped much as
our
Frenchmen did. God damn the weather!'

'Is that all, Commander Inch ?' Bolitho kept his tone level, but could feel the disappointment rising inside him.

Inch shrugged. 'The French have taken Malta without a fight, sir. Nelson's ships have been searching for de Brueys's fleet without success. He has followed their passage through the Ligurian Sea, and even looked into some ports where other French ships might have been sheltering until they were ready to move out.'

'You have done well, Inch.' Bolitho gestured to Ozzard for some more wine. 'And you have brought despatches ?'

Inch nodded. 'I was ordered to Naples by the admiral, sir. There I met with the fleet at last.' He grinned awkwardly. 'And with Nelson.'

'The devil you have!' Herrick stared at him. "That I should like to have seen!'

Bolitho said quietl
y, 'So you did not meet with
Perle
.'

He looked away as Herrick started to explain about the battle and the new prizes. But Bolitho's mind was elsewhere. By the time Fitz-Clarence had reached Gibraltar it would be too late for him to return and find Nelson. He blamed himself for not thinking that a fleet would be sent so quickly to act upon his own sketchy information and the captured siege guns.

Inch was asking excitedly, 'So where are the French? Nelson has been off Elba and Civita Vecchia and into Naples without sighting a one. And you have come west'rd without meeting them. I do not understand it.'

Bolitho faced them again. 'Did Nelson receive you well ?'

'Indeed yes, sir.' Inch frowned. 'He was not
quite
as I expected, but I found him most compelling, in spite of his anxieties.'

Bolitho tried to imagine what might he behind those simple words. Was Nelson blaming him for losing the French, too? For leading a British fleet which was sorely needed elsewhere to an empty trap ?

Inch added, 'If and when I was able to find you, sir, I was to tell you to join the fleet with all speed off Alexandria.' He saw Bolitho's surprise and said, 'Oh yes, sir, Nelson has every faith in your conclusions. He still believes that the French are heading for, if not already in Egypt.' He seemed to expect a show of excitement.

Bolitho said, 'Captain Herrick took it upon himself to visit Alexandria. But for a few decrepit Turkish men o' war and the usual coastal craft, it was empty. As it will be when Nelson gets there.' He looked at Herrick. 'Are you agreed, Thomas ?'

Herrick nodded.
‘I
fear so. From what we discovered and heard at Corfu, it seemed as if those supply ships were expecting to leave for another destination before they joined their main fleet.' He looked at the chart on Bolitho's table, his face grim. 'So when Nelson sails east he will miss de Brueys by a hundred miles or more. The French will rendezvous up
here'
He tapped the chart with one finger. 'Most likely off Crete.' He looked at Bolitho. 'While we sheltered amongst those islands, the greatest force since the Spanish Armada probably steered just a few miles to the south'rd of us, and we knew nothing of it!'

Inch asked dubiously, 'What will de Brueys do, sir ?'

Bolitho stared at the chart. 'In his shoes I'd gather up all the surviving transports, then wait for any others which may have been scattered amongst smaller islands and bays. Then I'd sail south-east. For
Egypt'

'Alexandria, sir.' Herrick watched him searchingly.

'Yes. But I think his fleet will remain outside the harbour. Somewhere where they can present their resistance to best advantage.'

Herrick nodded, understanding. 'The Bay of Aboukir. There could be none better.' He grimaced. 'For them.'

Bolitho walked to the stern windows, his legs braced as the ship swayed dizzily across some deep troughs.

'And Nelson will return to the west.' He was speaking almost to himself. 'He will imagine that de Brueys has tricked him, and has attacked some other place after all.'

He had often heard of Nelson's sudden depressions, his self-criticism when his bold ideas failed to show immediate results.

Something flashed across the windows, and he saw it was a gull, darting down to seize an unsuspecting fish below the counter.

A few hundred miles, and yet it meant the difference between success and nothing at all. He knew where the French would gather their combined strength, which with or without siege guns could soon occupy the walls and batteries of Alexandria. He knew it, but could not tell the rear-admiral in time. If only he were like that gull and his news could be carried as swiftly as a bird's flight. The gull would be sleeping on some Greek or Italian shore tonight, and his ships would have made little progress in any direction.

He said slowly, 'I want all commanding officers aboard at once, Thomas. If we are to be of any use we must use our independence.'

Inch bobbed.
'Not
join Nelson, sir?'

Bolitho smiled at his anxiety.
'Eventually.'

Herrick jerked his head to Inch. 'Come with me while I have the signal made.' He glanced at Bolitho's grave face. He knew from experience when he needed to be alone with his thoughts.

Two hours later they had all assembled in the cabin. Javal, hollow-eyed from sleepless nights, fighting the sea and wind with weakening resources. Probyn, his heavy face wary, and avoiding Bolitho's glance as he found a chair in a patch of shadow. Lieutenant Gilchrist, awkward amongst his superiors, but more sure of himself than Bolitho had ever seen before. Being in charge of a seventy-four could affect a man in several ways. It appeared to have been good for him.

Herrick and Inch completed the gathering, while Moffitt, the clerk, sat at a small table with his pad and pen, and Ozzard stood curiously beside the polished wine cabinet.

Bolitho faced them. 'Gentlemen, I have to tell you that we must go and search for the French again. De Brueys is out, and so far has avoided the fleet which was sent to contain him.' He saw Javal's tiredness slip away, the exchange of glances between them. 'We, in this small force of ours, must do all we can to delay the enemy's plans. You've done far more than any orders dictated,' he smiled, 'or left unsaid!''

Herrick grinned ruefully and Inch nodded in silent agreement.

He continued, 'I will be honest with you. If we are called to fight unaided, the odds will be great. Perhaps too great.' He looked straight at Javal. 'And from you, Captain, I must have complete honesty, too.'

Javal's narrow features were guarded.
'Sir?'

'Your ship. Without a proper refi
t, and within a short space of ti
me, what chance does she have ?'

The others looked at the deck or the chart on the table. Anywhere but at Javal's face.

Javal half rose and then sat down heavily. 'I can fight another storm if it's no worse than those gone before, sir.' He looked into Bolitho's eyes. 'But that is not what you were really asking, is it ?' He shook his head. 'I can't
fight
her, sir. She took a great hammering. A few more balls into her and I fear she'd founder.' He stared at some point above Bolitho's epaulette. 'She's a fine ship, sir, and I'd not ask
-'
His voice trailed away.

Bolitho watched his distress, the agony his words had cost him.

He said quietly, 'I was a frigate captain myself. I know what you are feeling. But I am grateful for your honesty, more so because I know what
Buzz
ard
means to you.'

He continued in the same quiet tone,
'Buzzard's
main armament must be jettisoned at once. If that does not suffice she will have to be abandoned.' He kept his eyes on Javal's lowered head. 'I am giving you the French prize,
Immortalite.
The bulk of your people can be spread amongst the squadron at your discretion. We will need
every
man
jack
before long. I understand that your first lieutenant was wounded in the fight, Captain ?'

He saw him nod, and then turned to Gilchrist.

'You
will take charge of
Buzz
ard
and sail her to Gibraltar with a skeleton company. Avoid trouble, and you should make a safe passage. I will give you your orders, and also the recommendation that you be promoted to commander at the first opportunity.'

Gilchrist, who had been listening to his decisions with obvious dismay, jerked to his feet and exclaimed,
'Thank
you,
sir! I'm only sorry that - ' He sat down again without finishing what he had started.

Bolitho said, 'We have three ships of the line. They must be commanded by men of experience.' He glanced briefly at Probyn, but the man stared through him. 'And courage.'

Herrick asked, 'Shall I order the squadron's badly wounded to be transferred to
Buzz
ard,
sir?'

'If Captain Javal is satisfied she is seaworthy after the guns have been jettisoned, I think it should be done.' He raised his head to listen. "The wind has eased, I think. So let us be about it directly.' He gave Inch a pat on the arm. 'And
you,
Commander Inch, will be able to carry the news of our discovery to your new friend, Sir Horatio Nelson!'

As they prepared to leave the cabin, Herrick said, 'Farquhar would have wished to be with us.'

'Aye, Thomas.' He saw Gilchrist waiting to say something. 'See the others into the boats and then tell Pascoe to signal the squadron on the matter of wounded.'

He turned to Gilchrist. 'What is wrong? I thought you were happy with your appointment, temporary though it will be.'

'I am, sir.' Gilchrist looked wretchedly at the deck.
‘I
am not a rich man, but I have had great hopes in the King's service. Now you have given me the first real chance -'. He sounded near breaking point. 'And I cannot accept it.'

Bolitho watched him impassively. 'Why? Because of Captain Probyn ? The influence he has used on you to unsettle the flagship's affairs?' He saw the astonishment on his face and continued,
‘I
knew that something was wrong. No man who wished to better his position in the Navy, and wanted to marry his captain's sister, would have acted so foolishly, unless he was affeared of something.'

'Yes, sir. It was from a long while back. My father was sent to prison for debt. He was a sick man, and I knew he could not endure it. He was weak in many ways and had no one to sustain him.' He spoke fiercely, reliving his despair.
‘I
borrowed money from the wardroom funds which we had built up to pay for extra wine and fresh food whenever possible. I intended to return it when I could. The first lieutenant found out about it. Made me write a confession which he threatened to use if I ever failed in my duty again.'

'He did wrong, Mr. Gilchrist. As did you.'

Gilchrist did not seem to hear. 'When I came to
Lysander,
and eventually became senior lieutenant, I thought I was going to be safe. I admired Captain Herrick, and I found his sister, crippled though she is, a most gracious person. Then we joined the squadron under your flag, sir. And with it came the
Nicator
and Captain Probyn.'

'Your old first lieutenant from the past.' 'Aye, sir.'

So that was it. All the years since his capture by the enemy, Probyn had nursed his hatred for Bolitho, the one face in his memory which he could reach and hurt. And when he had found Gilchrist again, he had been prepared to use threats to make him force a breach between himself and Herrick.