“Why not, Richard?” He slopped the wine carelessly over the rim. “Why not indeed?”
While the sun moved towards the opposite horizon, the two lieutenants sat in silence, occasionally taking a sip of the wine which by now was as warm as milk.
Then Bolitho dragged out his watch and said, “One more hour with the boats and then we shall secure for the night, sir?”
Palliser had been in deep thought and took several seconds to reply.
He said, “Yes. There’s nothing else we can do.”
Bolitho was stunned by the change in him, but knew if he tried to cheer him up the truce would be shattered.
Feet shuffled through the main-deck and Little’s great face squinted in at them.
“Beg pardon, sir, but Mr Slade sends ’is respects and says ’e can ’ear gunfire to the north’rd!”
An empty bottle rolled across the deck at the lieutenants’ feet and clinked against the side as the cabin suddenly tilted.
Palliser stared at the bottle. He was still seated, but his head was touching a beam without difficulty.
He exclaimed, “The wind! The damned, wonderful wind!” He clawed his way to the door. “Not a moment too soon!”
Bolitho felt the hull give a shiver, as if it was awakening from a deep sleep. Then with a bound he hurried after the lanky Palliser, sobbing with pain as his skull came in contact with a ring-bolt.
On deck the men were staring around with disbelief as the big forecourse filled and boomed noisily from its yard.
Palliser yelled, “Recall the boats! Stand by to come about!” He was peering at the compass and then up at the masthead pendant, just visible against the early stars.
Slade said, “Wind’s shifted, sir, veered a little, sou’-west.”
Palliser rubbed his chin. “Gunfire, you say?”
Slade nodded. “No doubt. Small pieces is my guess.”
“Good. As soon as the boats are secured, get under way again and lay her on the larboard tack. Steer nor’-west by north.”
He stood aside as the men ran through the deepening shadows to their stations.
Bolitho tested their new relationship. “Will you not wait for Destiny, sir?”
Palliser held up his hand and they both heard the muted sounds of gunfire.
Then he said tersely, “No, Mr Bolitho, I will not. Even if my captain succeeds in leaving harbour, and is able to discover more favourable winds than ourselves, he’ll not thank me for allowing the evidence he so sorely needs to be destroyed.”
Pearse yelled, “Boats secured aft, sir!”
“Man the braces! Stand by to come about!”
The wind hissed over the water and thrust against the canvas with new strength, pushing the brigantine over as a white troth gathered around her stem.
Palliser said sharply, “Darken ship, Pearse! I want nothing to betray our presence!”
Slade said, “It might be over an’ done with before dawn, sir.”
But the new Palliser snapped, “Nonsense! That vessel is being attacked, probably by pirates. They’ll not risk a collision in darkness.” He turned to seek out Bolitho and added, “Not like us, eh?”
Little shook his head and breathed out noisily. Bolitho could smell the drink on his breath, as strong as an open cellar door.
“Gawd, Mr Bolitho, ’e’s really ’appy at last.”
Bolitho thought suddenly of the face he had seen aboard the ship now under attack.
“Please God we shall be in time.”
Little, not understanding, walked away to join his friend Pearse for another “wet.”
So the new third lieutenant was as eager as the captain for prize money, he thought, and that could not be such a bad thing for the rest of them.
Palliser prowled across the poop like a restless animal.
“Shorten sail, Mr Bolitho. Take in the t’gan’sls and stays’l. Roundly now!”
Men groped their way to halliards and belaying-pins while others ran swiftly up the ratlines and out along the topgallant yard.
Bolitho always marvelled at the little time it took trained seamen to get used to a strange vessel, even in the dark.
It would soon be dawn, and he could feel the previous day’s weariness and hours without sleep clawing at his resistance. Palliser had kept his small company on the move throughout the night. Changing tack, altering course, retrimming sails, as he plotted and estimated the whereabouts of the other vessels. Several times there had been short exchanges of gunfire, but Palliser had said it was more to deter a possible chase than with any hope of close action. One thing had been proved by the occasional cannon fire. There were at least three vessels out there beyond the Heloise’s taut jib. Like wolves around a wounded beast, waiting for it to falter or make one fatal mistake.
Little called hoarsely, “All guns loaded, sir!”
Palliser replied, “Very well.” In a lower tone to Bolitho he added, “All guns. A few swivels and about enough canister to disturb a field of crows!”
Midshipman Ingrave said, “Permission to run up the colours, sir?”
Palliser nodded. “Yes. This is a King’s ship for the present, and we’re not likely to meet another.”
Bolitho recalled some of the muttering he had heard during the night. A few of the hands were troubled at the prospect of engaging pirates or anyone else with so puny an armament.
Bolitho darted a quick glance to starboard. Was there a faint lightening on the horizon? There was a good lookout aloft, and he was their best hope of taking the other vessel by surprise. It was unlikely that pirates intent on capturing and plundering a trader would be bothered about keeping a watch elsewhere.
He heard Slade whispering with Palliser. He was another one who was unhappy about the coming confrontation.
Palliser said fiercely, “Keep an eye on your course and be ready to change tack if we outrun the enemy. Leave the rest to me, see?”
Bolitho felt his limbs shiver. The enemy. Palliser had no doubts anyway.
Stockdale came from the shadows, his great frame angled against the deck as the wind held them over.
“Them buggers are usin’ chain-shot, sir. Once or twice I ’eard it when I was aloft.”
Bolitho bit his lip. So they intended to cripple the Rosario ’s rigging and then pound her into submission with less risk to themselves. They would get a shock when they saw Heloise bearing down on them. For a short while anyway.
He said, “Maybe Destiny’s already chasing after us.”
“Mebbee.”
Bolitho turned away as Jury came to join him. Stockdale did not believe that, any more than he did.
Jury asked, “Will it take much longer, sir?”
“Dawn comes up swiftly. You’ll see their topsails or upper yards at any minute now. If one of them fires again, we should be able to plot his bearing.”
Jury watched him in the gloom. “It does not trouble you, sir?”
Bolitho shrugged. “Not now. Later perhaps. We are committed, or soon will be.” He turned and put his hand on the midshipman’s shoulder. “Just remember something. Mr Palliser has picked some very experienced hands for this work. But his officers are somewhat youthful.” He saw Jury nod. “So keep your head and be where you can be seen. Leave the miracles to Mr Palliser.”
Jury smiled and then winced as his cracked lips reminded him of the previous day’s boatwork.
He said, “I’ll stay with you.”
Stockdale chuckled. “Beggin’ yer pardon, young gentleman, but don’t you be gettin’ in my way.” He swung a cutlass across the bulwark like a scythe. “Wouldn’t want you to lose yer ’ead, so to speak!”
Palliser called, “Stand by to take in the forecourse! Keep it quiet!”
The boatswain’s mate pointed abeam. “Dawn, sir!”
