Before he turned back to the table he saw Quinn lift his chin with pathetic defiance.
Bolitho said, 'His record has been a good one. And I have had him with me on several difficult missions. He has been badly wounded and -'
The thin-lipped captain leaned over to look at his corn. panions. 'I think we have heard enough. This witness has little to add.' He glanced at Bolitho. 'I understand that you declined a new appointment which Rear-Admiral Coutts was prepared to offer? Tell me, was that lack of ambition on your part?'
The president frowned, and then turned as feet moved heavily on the deck.
Without looking, Bolitho knew it was Pears.
The president asked, 'You wished to say something, Captain Pears?'
The familiar harsh voice was remarkably calm. The last question. I feel I should answer. It was not lack of ambition, sir. In my family we call it loyalty, dammit i'
The president held up his hand to still the sudden excitement, 'Quite so.' He looked sadly at Bolitho. 'However, I am afraid that in the case of Lieutenant Quinn loyalty is not enough.' He stood up, and throughout the cabin the spectators and witnesses lurched to their feet. 'The inquiry is adjourned.'
Outside, on the sunlit quarterdeck, Bolitho waited for the visitors to leave.
Dalyell and the new lieutenant, Pointer, were with him when Quinn appeared on deck.
He crossed over to him and murmured, 'Thank you for what you said, Dick.'
Bolitho shrugged. 'It didn't seem to help much.'
Dalyell said quietly, 'You have more courage than I, Dick. That cold-eyed captain scared hell out of me, just looking at him!'
Quinn said, 'Anyway, the president was right. I could not move. It was like being dead, unable to help.'
He saw Cairns approaching and added quickly, 'I shall go to my cabin.'
The first lieutenant leaned over the rail and watched the boats alongside.
Then he said, 'I hope we can get back to sea soon.'
The others moved away and Bolitho asked, 'Did the captain kill Quinn's chances, Neil?'
Cairns eyed him thoughtfully. 'No. I did. I witnessed it, but was less involved than you. Suppose you had been marked down by one of the Frenchman's sharpshooters, or broken by chainshot. Do you think Quinn could have held the fo'c'sle and driven off the boarders?' He smiled gravely and gripped Bolitho's arm. 'I'll not ask you to betray a friendship. But you know, as well as I, that we would have been made to strike to the Argonaute if Quinn had been left in charge forrard.' He looked along the deck, probably remembering it, as Bolitho was. He said, 'There are more lives at stake than the honour of one man.'
Bolitho felt sick. Knowing Cairns was right, but feeling only pity for Quinn.
'What will they decide?'
Cairns replied, 'The admiral who commands here will be aware of this. It has taken long enough to come to light. He will also know of Quinn's father, his power in the City.'
Bolitho could feel the man's bitterness as he added, 'He'll not hang.'
After lunch the court was recalled, and Cairns was proved' correct.
The court of inquiry had decided that Lieutenant James Quinn had been rendered unfit by cause of injury in the King's service to continue with active duty. Upon confirmation from the commander-in-chief, he would be sent ashore to await passage home to England. After that he would be discharged from the Navy.
Nobody outside would know of his disgrace. Except the one man who really cared, and Bolitho doubted very much if Quinn could carry that final burden for long.
Two days later, with Quinn's fate still unconfirmed, Trojan weighed and put to sea.
It would, it appeared, take a little longer.
Two and a half days after leaving English Harbour Trojan was steering due west, under reefed topsails and forecourse in a stiff following wind. It was a good opportunity to exercise the old and new hands together in sail drill, as with spray bursting over the poop and quarterdeck the two-decker pointed her jib at the misty horizon.
Apart from a few tiny islands far away on the starboard bow, the sea was empty. An endless deep blue desert, with long cruising rollers and white crests to display the power of the wind.
Bolitho waited on the larboard gangway, the taste of strong coffee warming his stomach, while he prepared to take over the afternoon watch in fifteen minutes' time. With so many new faces and names to grapple with, the constant efforts to discover the skilled hands from the clumsy ones, all of whom seemed to have five thumbs on each fist, Bolitho had been kept very busy. But he could sense the atmosphere in the ship all the same. Confused acceptance by the lower deck and an air of bitterness from aft.
Trojan was ordered to Jamaica, her lower decks crammed with a contingent of marines which the admiral was sending to enforce law and order at the governor's urgent request. Bad weather had wrecked many of Jamaica 's local trading vessels, and to make matters worse there had been news of another slave uprising on two of the larger plantations. Rebellion seemed to be in the air everywhere. If Britain was to hold on to her Caribbean possessions she must act now and not wait for the French and possibly the Spanish to blockade and occupy some of the many islands there.
But Bolitho guessed that Pears saw his role through different eyes. While the fleet was preparing for the inevitable spread of war, when every ship of the line would be desperately needed, he was being ordered to Jamaica. His Trojan had taken on the task of transport and little more.
Even the admiral's explanation, that Trojan needed no escort, and was therefore releasing other vessels for work elsewhere, had had no effect. Daily Pears walked his quarterdeck, still watchful for his ship and the routine which ran her, but alone and quite removed from everyone else.
It could rot be helping him now, Bolitho thought, to realize that hidden just below the horizon was the south- eastern shore of Puerto Rico, so near to where Coutts had committed all of them to a hopeless battle. In some ways it would have been better if the Argonaute had not broken off the fight. At least there would be a total victory to hold on to. Maybe the French had used their captain as a scapegoat, too?
But, as Cairns had said, it was better to be at sea and be kept busy than to swing at anchor, moping over what might have happened.
He looked down at the gundeck, at the milling scarlet uniforms and piled weapons as D'Esterre and the captain in charge of the marine contingent inspected and checked everything for the hundredth time.
'Deck there!'
Bolitho looked up, the sun searing his face like sand. 'Sail, sir! On the starboard bow!'
Dalyell had the watch, and it was at moments such as this that his inexperience showed through.
'What? Where?' He snatched a telescope from Midshipman Pullen and rushed to the starboard shrouds.
The look-out's voice was drifting with the wind. 'Small sail, sir! Fisherman, mebbee!'
Sambell, who was master's mate of the watch, remarked sourly, 'Lucky Admiral Coutts ain't here. He'd have us chasm' the bugger!'
Dalyell glared at him. 'Get aloft, Mr Sambell. Tell me what
you see.' He saw Bolitho and smiled awkwardly. 'So long with
out sighting anything, I was off guard.'
'So it would appear, sir.' Pears strode on to the quarterdeck, his shoes squeaking on the seams. He glanced at the set of the sails and then moved to the compass. 'Hmm.'
Dalyell peered up at the master's mate, who seemed to be taking an age to make the long climb.
Pears walked to the rail and watched the marines. 'Fisherman. Maybe so. There are plenty of small islets there. Good places for water and firewood. Not too dangerous if you keep one eye open.'
He frowned as Sambell yelled, 'She's sheered off! Makin' for one of the islands!'
Dalyell licked his lips and watched the captain. 'Sighted us, d'you suppose, sir?'
Pears shrugged. 'Unlikely. Our masthead has a far greater vision than some low-lying hull.'
He rubbed his chin, and Bolitho thought he saw a sudden gleam in his eyes.
Then Pears said harshly, 'Hands to the braces, Mr Dalyell. We will alter course three points. Steer nor'-west by north.' He banged his big hands together. 'Well, jump to it, sir! 'Pon my soul, you'll have to do better than this!'
The shrill of calls and the immediate rush of seamen brought Cairns on deck, his eyes everywhere as he looked for a ship.
Pears said, 'Vessel on starboard bow, Mr Cairns. Could be a fisherman, but unlikely. They usually keep in
