ease.
Dumaresq said, “Be that as it may, within three years Anson had lost all of his squadron but his own Centurion, and had left thirteen hundred of his people buried at sea with his various escapades. Most of them died from disease, scurvy and bad food. It is likely that if Anson had returned home without further incident he would have faced a court martial and worse.”
Rhodes shifted in his chair, his eyes shining as he whispered, “I thought as much, Dick.”
Dumaresq’s glance silenced whatever it was Rhodes had been about to impart.
The captain brushed some invisible dust from his red waistcoat and said, “Anson fell in with a Spanish treasure ship homeward bound with bullion in her holds valued at more than a million guineas.”
Bolitho vaguely remembered reading of the incident. Anson had seized the ship after a swift fight, had even broken off the action in order that the Spaniards could douse a fire which had broken out in their rigging. He had been that eager and desperate to take the treasure ship, Nuestra Senora de Covadonga, intact. Prize courts and the powers of Admiralty had long looked on such captures as of greater value than the lives lost to obtain them.
Dumaresq cocked his head, his calm attitude momentarily lost. Bolitho heard the hail from the masthead to report a sail far off to the north. They had already sighted it twice during the day, for it seemed unlikely there would be more than one vessel using this same lonely route.
The captain shrugged. “We shall see.” He did not elaborate but continued, “It was not known until recently that there was another treasure ship on passage to Spain. She was the Asturias, a larger vessel than Anson’s prize, and therefore more heavily laden.” He darted a glance at the surgeon. “I can see you have heard of her?”
Bulkley sat back and interlaced his fingers across his ample stomach. “Indeed I have, sir. She was attacked by an English privateer under the command of a young Dorset man, Captain Piers Garrick. His letter of marque saved him many times from the gallows as a common pirate, but today he is Sir Piers Garrick, well respected, and the past holder of several government posts in the Caribbean.”
Dumaresq smiled grimly. “True, but I suggest you confine your other suspicions to the limits of the wardroom! The Asturias was never found, and the privateer was so damaged by the engagement that she too had to be abandoned.”
He looked round, irritated as the sentry called through the door, “Midshipman of the watch, sir! ”
Bolitho could picture the anxiety on the quarterdeck. Should they disturb the meeting below their feet and risk Dumaresq’s displeasure? Or should they just note the strange sail in the log and hope for the best?
Dumaresq said, “Enter.” He did not seem to raise his voice and yet it carried to the outer cabin without effort.
It was Midshipman Cowdroy, a sixteen-year-old youth who Dumaresq had already punished for using unnecessary severity on members of his watch.
He said, “Mr Slade’s respects, sir, and that sail has been reported to the north’rd again.” He swallowed hard and seemed to shrink under the captain’s stare.
Dumaresq said eventually, “I see. We shall take no action.” As the door closed he added, “Although I fear that stranger is not astern of us by coincidence.”
A bell chimed from the forecastle and Dumaresq said, “Recent information has been found and sworn to that most of the treasure is intact. A million and a half in bullion.”
They stared at him as if he had uttered some terrible obscenity.
Then Rhodes exclaimed, “And we are to discover it, sir?”
Dumaresq smiled at him. “You make it sound very simple, Mr Rhodes, perhaps we shall find it so. But such a vast amount of treasure will, and has already, aroused interest. The Dons will want it back as their rightful property. A prize court will argue that as the ship had already been seized by Garrick’s privateer before she managed to escape and hide, the bullion is the property of His Brittanic Majesty.” He lowered his voice, “And there are some who would seize it to further a cause which would do us nothing but harm. So, gentlemen, now you know. Our outward purpose is to complete the King’s business. But if the news of this treasure is allowed to run riot elsewhere, I will want to know who is responsible.”
Palliser rose to his feet, his head bowed uncomfortably between the deckhead beams. The rest followed suit.
Dumaresq turned his back and stared at the glittering water which stretched to the horizon astern.
“First we go to Rio de Janeiro. Then I shall know more.”
Bolitho caught his breath. The South Americas, and Rio was all of 5000 miles from his home at Falmouth. It would be the furthest he had yet sailed.
As they made to leave Dumaresq said, “Mr Palliser and Mr Gulliver, remain, if you please.”
Palliser called, “Mr Bolitho, take over my watch until I relieve you.”
They left the cabin, each immersed in his own thoughts. The far-off destination would mean little to the ordinary sailor. The sea was always there, wherever he was, and the ship went with him. Sails had to be trimmed and reset at all hours, no matter what, and a seaman’s life was hard whether the final landfall was in England or the Arctic. But let the rumour of treasure run through the ship and things might be very different.
As he climbed to the quarterdeck Bolitho saw the men assembling for the first-watch looking at him curiously, then turning away as he met their eyes, as if they already knew.
Mr Slade touched his hat. “The watch is aft, sir.”
He was a hard master’s mate and unpopular with many of the people, especially those who did not rise to his impressive standards of seamanship.
Bolitho waited for the helmsmen to be relieved, the usual handing over from one watch to the next. A glance aloft at the set of the yards and sails, examine the compass and the chalked notes on the slate made by the midshipman on duty.
Gulliver came on deck, banging his palms together as he did when he was worried.
Slade asked, “Trouble, sir?”
Gulliver eyed him warily. He had been in Slade’s position too recently to take any comment as casual. Seeking favours perhaps? Or a way of suggesting that he was out of his depth with the wardroom officers aft?
He snapped, “At the next turn of the glass we will alter course.” He peered at the tilting compass, “Sou’-west by west. The captain intends to see the t’gan’sls, though with these light winds under our coat-tails I doubt if we can coax another knot out of her.”
Slade squinted up at the masthead lookout. “So the strange sail means something.”
Palliser’s voice preceded him up the companion ladder. “It means, Mr Slade, that if that sail is still there tomorrow morning she is indeed following us.”
Bolitho saw the worry in Gulliver’s eyes and guessed what Dumaresq must have said to him and Palliser.
“Surely there is nothing we can do about that, sir? We are not at war.”
Palliser regarded him calmly. “There is quite a lot we can do about it.” He nodded to emphasize the point. “So be ready.”
As Bolitho made to leave the quarterdeck in his care Palliser called after him, “And I shall be timing those laggards of yours when all hands are piped to make more sail.”
Bolitho touched his hat. “I am honoured, sir.”
Rhodes was waiting for him on the gun-deck. “Well done, Dick. He’ll respect you if you stand up to him.”
They walked aft to the wardroom and Rhodes said, “The lord and master is going to take that other vessel, you know that, don’t you, Dick?”
Bolitho threw his hat on to one of the guns and sat down at the wardroom table.
“I suppose so.” His mind drifted back again, to the coves and cliffs of Cornwall. “Last year, Stephen, I was doing temporary duty aboard a revenue cutter.”
Rhodes was about to make a joke of it but saw the sudden pain in Bolitho’s eyes.
Bolitho said, “There was a man then, a big and respected landowner. He died trying to flee the country. It was proved he had been smuggling arms for an uprising in America. Maybe the captain thinks this is similar, and all this time that gold has been waiting for the right use.” He grimaced, surprised at his own gravity. “But let’s talk about Rio. I am looking forward to that.”
Colpoys strolled into the wardroom and arranged himself carefully in a chair.
To Rhodes he said, “The first lieutenant says you are to select a midshipman to assist with the clerical duties in the cabin.” He crossed his legs and remarked, “Didn’t know the young fellas could write!”
