Lord Hood gave what passed for a smile. 'You are right there, by God! There are reports that the French General Carteau is already marching south. I am hoping that such information is also available to Trogoff, for either way I am afraid his days will be numbered unless he obtains our assistance.' He drew one hand across his throat. 'He would not be the first French admiral to die on the scaffold. Not even one of the first dozen!'
Bolitho tried to imagine himself in the position of the wretched Admiral Trogoff. His was a difficult decision indeed. Beyond the sealed door the giant hundred-gun flagship murmured with life, the creak of spars and rigging, the muffled shout of orders. Across in his own ship Quarme and the others would be watching and wondering. Like himself.
Pipes shrilled from the upper',deck and there was more stamping and shouting. Another captain from one of the ships astern no doubt.
The admiral said calmly, 'What this campaign needs is a show of confidence. We cannot afford a failure at this early stage.' He looked hard at Bolitho. 'Have you heard of Cozar Island?'
Bolitho tore his mind back from the crowded possibilities of a full-scale invasion with the Hyperion in the van of the attack.
'Er yes, sir.' He saw the glint of impatience in Hood's eyes and added, 'We passed it to seaward on the night of the sixth.'
'And I take it that is all you know of it?' Hood's question was sharp.
'It lies off the French coast, sir, but is actually Spanish.'
'Well, that is slightly better,' said Hood dryly. 'In fact, Cozar was given by the late King Louis to Spain in exchange for some concession in the Caribbean. It lies about one hundred and twenty-five miles west-south-west from the chair you're sitting on. It is 'a miserable, sun-scorched place, and until recently was used by the Spaniards as a penal settlement. With their usual contempt for human life they realised that only convicts and scorpions could live there.'
He stood quite still, looking down at Bolito as he continued, 'But Cozar has one important asset. It has a magnificent harbour, and no other landing places at all. There is a fort of some kind at either end, and a well-sited battery could keep a whole fleet at bay for as long as necessary.'
Bolitho nodded. 'So close to the French coast it could be used like a stone frigate. Our ships would be safe for replenishing stores and sheltering from bad weather, and could dash out and attack any coastal shipping without warning.'
Hood said nothing and Bolitho realised with sudden clarity what the admiral had implied about his 'show of confidence'. He said quietly, 'Also we could launch a second in vasion from there should the Toulon venture prove successful.'
Hood eyed him grimly. `You get there in the end, Bolitho. Well done!' He walked back to the windows. `Unfortunately the French may have realised Cozar's importance already. I sent the sloop Fairfax to investigate a week ago. Nothing has been seen of her since.' He slapped his. hands together violently. ' Spain is our new ally, but under real pressure who can say how long such allegiance will last?'
There was a nervous tap at the door and a flag-lieutenant peered in at them.
Hood glared at him. 'Get out, damn you!' In a calmer voice he continued, 'I have a Spanish squadron with me now. If we are to seize and occupy Cozar then the Spanish must outwardly be the main cause of the victory.' His eyebrows lifted slightly. 'It will clinch our relationship and will show the French that we are united not merely from fear but out of mutual respect.' He smiled grimly. 'Well, that is how it should look, eh?'
Bolitho rubbed his chin thoughtfully. 'And you want the Hyperion to take part, sir?'
`I do. Of all the captains under my command I think you arepossibly the best suited. I seem to recall that you carried out some very successful raids in the Caribbean. That sort of initiative and imagination is what we need at the moment.' He looked away. 'You will accompany two Spanish ships of the line, of course, but the operation will be under the overall command of Vice-Admiral Sir William Moresby, d'you know him?'
Bolitho shook his head, his mind still mulling over Hood's words. After coming so far with the hope of taking part in the real campaign, and now this. Hyperion would go about and sail back again, with nothing but some local skirmish at the end of it. Once ensconced on their own territory the Spanish would be quick to rid themselves of Hyperion, Vice-Admiral Moresby or not.
Hood eyed him gravely. 'He's a good flag officer. He knows what to do.'
Bolitho stood up, knowing the interview was over. He turned as Hood said suddenly, 'I sent for you personally because I want you to realise the importance of this mission. Whatever happens, and I mean just that, I want that island taken without delay. If the French have time to garrison it properly they will be in a position to harry my supply ships and spy on everything I do. My fleet is stretched to the limit already. I cannot afford to send more ships to watch Cozar for the rest of time. Do I make myself clear?'
The door opened a few inches and the flag-lieutenant said desperately. 'I beg your pardon, my lord, but the captain of gamemnon has come aboard and wishes to have an audience with you.'
Instead of flying into a rage Hood gave a rare smile. 'That's young Captain Nelson, a contemporary of yours, Bolitho. Well, he's going to be disappointed this time.' His hooded eyes glinted with amusement. 'He'll have heard about the Cozar business, and like you he is a man who prefers to act on his own sometimes!'
Bolitho toyed with the idea of suggesting a change of orders when Hood added briefly, 'But his Agamemnon is a fast ship. I'll need her here if things go against us.'
'Yes, sir.' He thought of Rooke's contemptuous words, 'She's as slow as an old cow!' and added, 'Hyperion will show her ability when the time comes.'
The admiral stared at him. 'I never doubted it, my boy.' He chuckled as Bolitho walked towards the door. 'I doubt that the war will end tomorrow. There will be plenty of opportunities yet!'
Bolitho walked out of the door and almost cannoned into a harassed flag-lieutenant who immediately thrust a large sealed envelope into his hand and muttered, 'Your orders, sir. Vice-Admiral Sir William Moresby will be shifting his flag to Hyperion from the Cadmus within the hour. May I suggest you make haste back to your ship, sir? Sir William is, er, rather rigid in his requirements about being properly greeted.'
Bolitho grunted and hurried towards the entry port, his mind buzzing with the swift turn of events. Cadmus was a big three-decker. No doubt Lord Hood needed her too, he decided bitterly.
The flagship's captain was waiting with the side party and gave Bolitho a worried smile. It could not be easy to serve in the same ship as Lord Hood.
' But as Bolitho clambered down into his waiting barge he forgot him and turned his mind to the problems of turning Hyperion into a flagship. She was no three-decker, and Sir William might find it somewhat crowded.
The barge pulled clear, and Bolitho saw Allday watching him anxiously from the tiller. Then he looked back at the towering side of the Victory and guessed that already his short visit had also been forgotten.
Then as he glanced up at the flagship's great quarterdeck he saw a slight, even frail, figure leaning on the nettings and watching him. His uniform was more faded than Bolitho's, and his hair tied back in a stiff, unfashionable queue. As the barge crew pulled lustily around the Victory's quarter Bolitho saw the other man raise his hand in what might be a salute or a gesture of resignation.
Bolitho lifted his hand to his hat in reply. It must be Nelson of the Agamemnon, he thought. Such a fragile figure for a captain of a ship of the line, and on the Victory's quarterdeck he.looked dejected and lost.
Bolitho settled himself grimly in the sternsheets and stared across at his own command. Well, this Nelson had nothing to be jealous about, he thought angrily. He could have the Cozar operation and welcome!
Allday lowered his head and asked softly, 'Good news, Captain? Are we staying with the fleet?'
Bolitho glared at him. 'Attend to your steering! This barge is swaying like a Portsmouth whore!'
Allday watched the back of Bolitho's shoulders and smiled to himself. For months he had worried about Bolitho's health. Opposition from above was better than any medicine, he thought cheerfully. But heaven help the French!
3. DECISION FOR SIR WILLIAM
Bolitho waited beneath the poop just long enough to accustom his eyes to the gloom and then strode out on to the quarterdeck. At first glance there was little to show that the dawn hovered just below the invisible horizon, but
