sir!'
Pears growled, 'Call the hands. Get the royals on her. Stuns'ls too if she can take them.' He strode aft as the master appeared beneath the poop, and Bolitho heard him say in his harsh tone 'More sail, that is all he can think of, damn it!'
Cairns hurried up as the calls trilled between decks and brought the watch below scampering to their stations.
'Hands aloft! Set the royals! '
Cairns saw Bolitho and shrugged. 'The captain is in a foul mood, Dick. We lay each course a day ahead, but I am as wise as you as to where we are bound.' He looked to see that Pears was not close by. 'It has always been his way to explain, to share his views with us. But now, it seems our admiral has other ideas.'
Bolitho thought of the admiral's youthful enthusiasm. Maybe Pears had become staid, out of touch with things.
But there was nothing wrong with his eyes as he yelled, 'Mr Cairns, sir! Get those topmen aloft, flog them if you must! I'll not be goaded again by the flagship!'
It was noon by the time the royals and then the great, batlike studding sails had been set on either beam. The flagship had also made as much sail as she could carry, and appeared to be buried under the towering pyramids of pale cafivas.
Lieutenant Probyn relieved Bolitho without his usual sarcasm or complaint, but remarked, 'I see no gain in this at all. Day after day, with ne'er a word of explanation. It makes me uneasy, and that's no lie!'
But two more days were to pass before anyone had settled on the truth of the matter.
Rear-Admiral Coutts' little squadron continued on its southerly course and then swung south-east, skirting Cape Fear, so aptly named, to take advantage of the wind's sudden eagerness to help them.
Bolitho was about to go off watch when he was unexpectedly summoned aft to the great cabin.
But it was not a conference, and he found the captain alone at his desk. His coat was hanging across his chairback, and he had loosened his neckdoth and shirt.
Bolitho waited. The captain looked very cam, so it seemed unlikely there was to be a reprimand for something he had done, or not done.
Pears glanced up at him. 'The master, and now the first lieutenant, know the extent of my orders. You may think it strange for me to confide in you before the rest of my officers, but under the circumstances I think it is fair.' He bobbed his head. 'Do sit down.'
Bolitho sat, sensing the sudden irritation which was never far from Pears' manner.
'There was some trouble at New York. You played no small part in it.' Pears smiled wryly. 'Whidi did not surprise me, of course.'
Bolitho pricked up his ears. Somehow he had known that the matter of the dead girl would come up again. Even that it might be connected in some small way with the squadron's unexpected departure from Sandy Hook.
'I will not go into full detail, but the girl you discovered in that brothel was the daughter of a New York government official, a very important one to boot. It could not have come at a worse time. Sir George Helpman is out from England under the direct instructions of both Parliament and Admiralty to discover what is being done to pursue the war, to prevent the whole campaign being bogged down in stalemate. If, or rather when, the French come into the open to fight in strength, we will be hard put to hold what we have, let alone make any gains.'
'I thought we were doing all we could, sir.'
Pears looked at him pityingly. 'When you are more experienced, Bolitho…' He looked away, frowning angrily. 'Helpman will see it for himself. The corrupt officials, the dandies of the military government who dance and drink while our soldiers in the field pay the price. And now this. An important official's daughter is discovered to be working hand-in-glove with the rebels. She has been leaving her home in a carriage and changing into boy's clothes just so that she can meet one of Washington 's agents and pass him any titbit of secret information she could lay her hands on.'
Bolitho could well imagine the fury and consternation it must have caused. He could find pity for the blowzy whore who had tried to spit in his face. With so much at stake, and with important heads on the block, her interrogators would have few scruples in the manner of gaining information.
Pears said, 'Due to her treachery, the Tracy brothers were able to plot our every move, and but for our taking the Faithful, and Mr Bunce's liaison with the Almighty on matters concerning the weather, we might never have known anything. Links in a chain. And now we have one more scrap to play with. That damned whore had her ear to the keyhole more often than not. The Colonials have a new stronghold, constructed with the express purpose of receiving and transporting powder and weapons to their ships and soldiers.'
Bolitho licked his lips. 'And we are heading there now, sir?'
'That's the strength of it, yes. Fort Exeter, in South Carolina, about thirty miles north of Charles Town.'
Bolitho nodded, remembering clearly what happened near there about a year ago, at another rebel fort, only that had been to the south of Charles Town. A large squadron, with troops as well as marines embarked, had sailed to seize the fort which commanded the inshore waters, and would thus interdict all trade and privateer traffic to and from Charles Town, the busiest port south of Philadelphia. Instead of victory, it had ended in humiliating defeat. Some of the ships had gone aground because of wrongly marked charts, while elsewhere the water had been too deep for the soldiers to wade ashore as had been intended. And all the time the Colonials, snug behind their fortress walls, had kept up a steady bombardment on the largest British vessels, until Commodore Parker, whose flagship had taken the worst of it, had ordered a complete withdrawal. Trojan had been on her way to offer support when she had met the returning ships.
In the Navy, unused to either defeat or failure, it had seemed like an overwhelming disaster.
Pears had been watching his face. 'I see you have not forgotten either, Bolitho. I only hope we all live to remember this new venture.'
With a start Bolitho realized the interview was over. As he made to leave, Pears said quietly, 'I told you all this because of your part in it. But for your actions, we might not have found out about that girl. But for her, Sir George Helpman would not he raising hell in New York.' He leaned back and smiled. 'And but for himn, our admiral would not now be trying to prove he can do what others cannot. Links in a chain, Bolitho, as I said earlier. Think about it.'
Bolitho walked out and cannoned into Captain D'Esterre. The marine said, 'Why, Dick, you look as if you have seen a ghost!'
Bolitho forced a smile. 'I have. Mine.'
When the time came for Lieutenant Cairns to share Pears' orders with the lieutenants and warrant officers, even the most unimaginative one present could not fail to marvel at their admiral's impudence.
While out of sight of land, and with the frigate patrolling to ensure they were left undisturbed, the sloop Spite was to embark all of the flagship's and Trojan's marines, and with boats under tow would head inshore under cover of darkness. The twodeckers, in company with Vanquisher, would then continue along the coast towards the same fort which had routed Commodore Parker's squadron the previous year.
To any watchers along the coast, and to the officers of the fort and the Charles Town garrison, it would not seem an unlikely thing for the British to attempt. Hurt pride, and the fact that the fort was still performing a useful protection for privateers and the landing of stores and powder, were two very good reasons for a second attempt.
Fort Exeter, on the other hand, was easier to defend to seaward, and would feel quite safe when the small squadron had sailed past in full view of the Colonial pickets.
Bolitho, when he had listened to Cairns ' level, unemotional voice as he explained the extent of their orders, had imagined he could detect Rear-Admiral Coutts speaking directly to him.
Spite would land the marines, a party of seamen and all the necessary tackle and ladders for scaling walls, and then stand out to sea again before dawn. The rest, an attack from inland towards the rear of the fort, would be left to the discretion of the senior officer. In this case he was Major Samuel Paget, commanding officer of the flagship's marines.
D'Esterre had said of him in confidence, 'A very hard man. Once he has made up his mind nothing will shift him, and no argument is tolerated.'
Bolitho could well believe it. He had seen Paget a few times. Very erect and conscious of the figure he made in his scarlet coat and matching sash, impeccable white lapels and collar, he was nevertheless having difficulty in
