Tempers flared out of all proportion if a lieutenant was just minutes late relieving his opposite number.
He saw Benbow swaying steeply as she hove to, shining in the filtered glare like buckled breastplates. It was typical of Herrick was coming to see him. Face him.
Herrick’s barge had to make three attempts before the bowman could hook on to the main chains.
In the cabin the sounds faded, and only the sloping horizon appeared to be blurred by the thick stern windows, swaying as if to tip the weatherbeaten ships into a void.
Herrick got straight to the point ”I wish to know what you intend.” He shook his head as Ozzard hovered nearby with a tray in his hand. ”No, but thank you.”
To Bolitho he added, ”I’d not want to be marooned here, away from g down He glanced at the spray runnin down the glass. ”I don’t like this at all.”
Bolitho said, ”No sign of La Mouette, Thomas ?”
He saw Herrick shake his head. ”I sent Phaedra to hunt for her.”
Herrick leaned forward in his chair. ”Captain Sinclair knows what he is about. He will find the squadron.”
Bolitho said, ”I will use every vessel which can scout for us. It was not a criticism.”
Herrick settled back again.
”I think we should stand towards Toulon. Then we shall know, one way or the other.”
Bolitho, rested his hands on the table. He could feel it, the rudder jerking against helm and ship shivering through wind.
”If the enemy intend to reenter the Mediterranean, Thomas, we could lose them just as easily as Nelson lost contact when they ran to the west.”
He made up his mind. ”I intend to head for Gibraltar. If we still have no news we shall proceed through the Strait and join the fleet. I see no other choice.”
Herrick eyed him stubbornly. ”Or we can stay here and wait. No one can blame us. We shall certainly be damned if we miss the enemy when they break through to Toulon.”
”I would blame myself, Thomas. My head tells me one thing, instinct directs me otherwise.”
Herrick cocked his head to listen to the pumps. ”Is it that bad?”
”She will stand more of it.”
”I sent Absolute into harbour because she was too rotten.”
Bolitho retorted, ”I could use her too, rotten or not.”
Herrick stood up and walked to the stern windows. ”I should leave. I mean no disrespect, but my barge will have a hard pull as it is.”
Bolitho faced him. ”Listen to me, Thomas. I don’t care what you think about my private life, for private it is not apparently. I need your support, for fight we shall.”
He clapped his hand to his heart. ”I know it.”
Herrick watched him as if seeking a trap. ”As your second-incommand I will be ready if we are called to battle. But I still believe you are misguided.”
Bolitho said despairingly, ”You are not listening, man! I am not commanding you, I am asking for your help!” He saw Herrick’s astonishment as he exclaimed, ”In God’s name, Thomas, must I plead? I am going blind, or did that piece of gossip rouse no interest amongst you?”
Herrick gasped, ”I had no idea!”
Bolitho looked away and shrugged. ”I will trouble you to keep it to yourself.”
He swung round, his voice harsh. ”But if I fall, you must lead these men, you will make them perform miracles if need be - are you listening now?”
There was a tap at the door, and Bolitho shouted, ”Yes?” His anguish tore the word from his throat.
Keen entered and glanced between them. ”Signal from Phaedra, sir, repeated by Tybalt.”
Herrick asked quickly, ”What of La Mouette?”
Keen was looking only at Bolitho. He guessed what had happened, and wanted to share it with him.
He answered abruptly, ”She is down.”
He had Bolitho met his gaze, almost broken that time, grateful for the interruption.
”News, Val?”
”There is an enemy squadron on the move, Sir Richard. Heading west.”
Herrick asked, ”How many.
”Phaedra has not yet reported. She is damaged after a stern-chase.”
Still Keen avoided his eyes. He took a step towards him, then ”They are Spanish, Sir Richard. Sail of the line, that we do know.” He let his arms fall to his sides.
Bolitho ran his fingers through his hair and asked, ”How many ships does Nelson have?”
Keen looked at him, and then his eyes cleared with under standing.
”It was last reported as two dozen of the line, Sir Richard. The French and their Spanish ally are said to have over thirty, which will include some of the largest first-rates afloat.”
Divide and conquer.
Bolitho listened to the moan of the wind. How well Villeneuve had planned it. And now with this new formation of ships, discovered only accidentally by Phaedra, Nelson’s fleet would be overwhelmed and hopeles outnumbered.
He said simply, ”If they slip through the Strait we may never catch them in time.” He looked at Keen.
”Signal Phaedra to close on the Flag.”
He caught his arm as he made to leave ”When that brave little ship draws close enough, spell out well done.”
When Keen left Herrick said with sudden determination, ”I am ready. Tell me what to do.”
Bolitho stared through the stained windows, ”Minimum signals, Thomas. As we discussed.”
”But your eyesight?” Herrick sounded wretched.
”Oh no, not any more, Thomas. Little Phaedra has lifted my blindness. But hear me. If my flag comes down, Benbow will be the van.”
Herrick nodded. ”Understood-’
Bolitho said, ”So hold back your conscience, my friend, and together we may yet win the day!”
He turned to look at the breaking wave-crests, and did not move until he heard the door shut.
Bolitho put his signature to his final letter and stared at it for several minutes.
The swell was as steep as before, but the wind had lessened, so that the hull seemed to rise and fall with a kind of ponderous majesty. He glanced at the quarter windows as a pale shaft of sunlight penetrated the sea-mist and showed up the salt stains on com the glass like ice-rime. He hoped the sun would break through pletely before the day ended. The air was heavy with damp; hammocks, clothing, everything.
He reread the last of the letter which Phaedra would carry to the fleet. He tried to picture Nelson eventually reading it, understanding as a sailor, better than any other, what Bolitho’s ships and men were trying to do.
He had finished with, ”And I thank you, My lord, for offering my nephew, who is most dear to me, the same inspiration you have given to the whole fleet.,”
He pushed it aside for Yovell to seal and turned the other letter over in his fingers, while he imagined Catherine’s dark eyes as she read the words, his declaration of love which now can never die.
There would be many letters going in Phaedra. What would Herrick say to his Dulcie, he wondered? Their parting yesterday had left a bad taste. Once, such a thing would have seemed impossible. Maybe people did change, and he was the one who was mistaken.
Keen would have written to his Zenoria. It was a great comfort that she would be with Catherine. Hestood up, suddenly chilledto the marrow despite the damp, humid air. Notbing must happen to Val. Not after what they had shared. The pain and the joy, the fulfilment of a dream which had been snatched from Keen and had, left him like half a man. Until Zenoria. The girl with the moonlit eyes; another whose love had been forged from suffering.
Keen looked in. ”Phaedra’s captain is come aboard, Sir Richard.”
Bolitho faced the door as Dunstan almost bounded into the cabin.
A young Man of tireless energy, and certainly one of the scruffiest captains Bolitho had ever laid eyes on.
Bolitho held out his hand. ”It was good of you to come- I believe it was intended we should pass the despatches over by line and tackle.”
”I place these in your hands.” Bolitho gestured to the letters. ”There is one for Lord Nelson. When you have run him to ground I would wish you to present it to him personally.”
He gave a quick smile. ”It seems I am fated not to meet him in person!’
Dunstan took the letter and stared at it as if he expected it to look different from all the others.
Bolitho said, ”I am told that you had some casualties.”
”Aye, Sir Richard. Two killed, another pair cut down by splinters.” Bolitho saw the young man behind the guise of captain for just a moment . The memory and the risks, the moment of truth when death sings in the air.
Dunstan added, ”I am only sorry I could not linger to estimate the full array of Spanish vessels.” He shrugged. ”But that damn frigate was at my coat-tails, and the mist hid many of the enemy.” Bolitho did not press him. Keen would have laid all of his findings and calculations alongside his own on Hyperion’s charts.
Dunstan said, ”It struck me that war is an odd game, Sir Richard. It was just a small fight by today’s standard, but how strange the contestants.”
Bolitho smiled. ”I know. A captured British frigate fighting under Spanish colours against a French prize beneath our own flag!’
Dunstan looked at him squarely. ”I would ask that you send another to seek out Lord Nelson. My place is here with you.”
Bolitho took his arm. ”I need the fleet to know what is happening, and my intention to prevent these ships of yours from joining with Villeneuve. It is vital. In any case I can spare nobody else.”
He shook his arms gently. ”Phaedra has done enough. For me, and for us all. Remember that well and tell your people.”
Dunstan nodded, his eyes searching Bolitho’s face as if he wanted to remember the moment.
He said, ”Then I shall leave, Sir Richard.” Impetuously he thrust out his hand. ”God be with you.”
For a long while afterwards Bolitho stood alone in the cabin, watching the sloop-of-war as she went about, her gunports awash as she took the wind into her courses and topsails.
He heard distant cheers, from Phaedra or the other ships he could not tell.
He sat down and massaged his eye, hating its deception.
Allday clumped into the cabin and regarded him dubiously.
”She’s gone then, Sir Richard?”
”Aye.” Bolitho knew he must go on deck. The squadron was waiting. They must assume their proper formation long before dusk. He thought of his captains. How would they react? Perhaps they doubted his ability, or shared Herrick’s opposition to his intentions.
Allday asked, ”So, it’s important?”
”It could well be, old friend.” Bolitho looked at him fondly. ”If we head them off, they must fight. If they have already outrun us then we shall give chase.”
Allday nodded, his eyes faraway. ”Nothin’ new then.”
Bolitho grinned, the tension slipping away like soft sand in a glass.
”No, nothing new! My God, Allday, they could do with you in Parliament!’
By the next morning the weather had changed yet again. The wind had veered and stood directly from the east. That at least put paid to any hope of beating back to Toulon.
The squadron, lying comfortably on the starboard tack, headed north-west with the Balearic Islands lying somewhere beyond the starboard bow.
Sixth in the line leading his own ships, Rear-Admiral Herrick had been up since dawn, unable to sleep, and unwilling to share his doubts with Captain Gossage.
He stood in one corner of Benbow’s broad quarterdeck and watched the ships ahead. They made a fine sight beneath an almost clear sky, broken only by fleecy patches of cloud. His face softened as he remembered his mother, in the little house where he had been born in Kent.
Watch the big men sleep, Tommy! She had always said that.
Herrick looked around at the busy seamen, the first lieutenant in a close conversation with several warrant officers about today’s work.
What would that dear, tired old lady think of her Tommy now?
Captain Gossage crossed the deck, his hat tilted at the jaunty angle which he seemed to favour.
Herrick did not wish to pass the time in idle conversation. Each turn of the log was taking his ships further westward. He felt uneasy, as if he had suddenly been stripped of his authority. Their one shaded his eyes to peer across the starboard nettings. Tybalt would be the first to sight any enemy shipping. The remaining frigate was far away from the squadron. He bit his lip until it hurt.
If the enemy had not already slipped past them. Slamming a door after the horse had bolted.
Gossage remarked, ”I suppose that Phaedra’s captain was not mistaken, sir?”
Herrick glared. ”Well, imagine that somebody sunk La Mouette, he did not
”Had we been relieved from the Maltese ships we would have had the honour...,” Gossage grunted. ”Any way, sir. Then our station we would have been at Gibraltar.”
”Honour be damned! Sir Richard Bolitho is not the kind of man to seize glory for himself ” Herrick snapped.
Gossage raised his eyebrows, Herrick turned away, quietly fuming. No, you don’t. Try as he might he could not tear his thoughts from the twenty-odd years that he had known Bolitho. All the battles, some hard-won, others surprisingly kind, old friends lost or maimed, sea-passages and they might wondered if they would walk ashore again.
Gossage tried again. ”My wife wrote to me and says that them is talk of Sir Richard being relieved.”
Herrick stared at him. Dulcie had said nothing of the kind.
”When?” Gossage smiled. He had caught his admiral’s attention at last.
”Next year, sir. The fleet will be reformed, the squadrons allocated differently. In this article she read -we....”
Herrick gave a cold grin. ”Bloody rubbish, man! Sir Richard and I have been hearing the bleats of shorebound experts all our lives. God damn it, the day we...”
The masthead yelled, ”Deck there! Signal from Flag!”
A dozen telescopes rose as one and the signals midshipman called, ”General, sir! Have Tybalt in sight to the northrd.””
Gossage hissed to the officer-of-the_watch, ”Why in hellos name did they sight her first?”
Herrick smiled wryly,”Acknowledge it.” To the first lieutenant he called, ”Send a good master’s mate aloft, Mr O’Shea!”
The lieutenant turned as if to confirm the order with Gossage but Herrick snapped, ”Just do it!”
He moved away, his hands grasped behind his back. He had never got used to flag rank, nor had he expected it, no matter what flattering things Dulcie had said about the matter.
He knew he was being petty but he felt better for it At heart he would always remain a captain and not leave it to others to carry out his plans.
All down the line of eight ships, the air would be buzzing with speculation. Herrick thought of the missing third-rate Absolute.
He had done the right thing. One great gale like the last one, and that poor, rotten ship would surely have foundered.
Bolitho’s refusal to accept his action still rankled deeply. He took his Own telescope, the latest and most expensive one which Dulcie could find, and trained it on the ships astern. In perfect formation, their masthead pendants licking out like serpents, tongues, the sunlight glistening on the checkered patterns of gunports.
The new voice hailed from the masthead. Tybalt in sight, sir!”
Herrick climbed up the starboard poop ladder and levelled his beautiful telescope. He could just make out the frigate’s top gallant sails, like the fleecy clouds, pink-edged and delicate against the hard horizon. The edge of the sea, he thought. Deep, dark blue. Still no sip of rain. Perhaps Bolitho would decide after all to send some of the ships to seek fresh water.
Pyyramid of sails. Herrick blinked his eyes. He saw the tiny ticks o
f colour rise against the frigate’s side.
It was to good as it had been. He thought of Bolitho’s expression, the anguish when he had revealed to him about his damaged eyesight.
It troubled Herrick for several reasons, not the least being that he had failed Bolitho when he had most needed him.
Herrick’s flag lieutenant, a willowy young man called De Broux, called, ”From Tybalt, sir!”
Herrick waited impatiently. He had never really liked his flag lieutenant. He was soft. Even had a Frenchie-sounding name.
Unaware of Herrick’s distaste De Broux said, ”Strange sail bearing north-east!”
Several of the officers nearby chuckled amongst themselves and Herrick felt his face smart with anger, and embarrassment too for Bolitho.
Gossage said cheerfully, ”A strange sail, eh? Damn my eyes if don’t think that our eight liners can’t take care of it, what?”
He turned to his officers. ”We can leave Tybalt outside to act as umpire!” Herrick said harshly, ”Hold your damn noise.” He spoke to the lieutenants, it was meant for Gossage.
”From Flag, sir. General. Make more sail.” Herrick watched the acknowledgement dashing aloft.
Gossage, sulking slightly, called, ”Hands aloft, Mr O’Shea! Shake out all reefs!” His tone suggested it was merely to cover Bolitho’s confusion.
Herrick raised the telescope and climbed up two more steps. She had been so proud when she had bought it for him, from one of the best instrument makers in London’s Strand. She had gone there with Belinda.
De Broux shouted suddenly, ”Tybalt to Flag, sir!” For once he seemed unsure of himself. Then he stammered, ”Estimate twelve sail-of-the-line.” Herrick climbed down to the quarterdeck again. He was uncertain how he felt. Resigned, or stunned by the last sign.
Gossage was staring at him, and made to speak as De Broux called desperately, ”General signal, sir. Prepare for battle!”
Herrick met Gossage’s disbelief with something close to complete calm. To feel that way under such circumstances was almost unnerving.
Herrick asked coolly, ”Well, Captain Gossage, how do the odds appeal to you now?”
Alexander Kent - Bolitho 17 Page 26
