The big coxswain grunted.' Seen ' em afore. Us'll see 'em again an' live to tell of it.'
Bolitho gave up. Nothing, it seemed, could break the man's supreme confidence in his ability to produce a miracle, even in the face of a hurricane?
Voices rang out overhead, and then he heard feet dashing down the companion ladder from the quarterdeck?
It was Midshipman Heyward, impeccable as ever in spite of being on his feet for much of the night?
'Captain, sir.' He watched Stockdale's razor poised in midair.' Mr. Graves's respects and Fawn has just signalled. Sail to the nor'-east.'
Bolitho snatched the towel.' Very well. I will come up.'
Stockdale laid down the bowl.' That same one, sir?'
Bolitho shook his head.' Unlikely. She'd never overreach us in one night, even if she was after our blood.' He rubbed his face vigorously.' But in this empty sea a sight of anything is welcome.'
When he reached the quarterdeck he found Tyrell and most of the others already there. Below the mainmast the hands had just been mustered in readiness for the morning assault on the decks with holystones and swabs, while others were waiting by the pumps or just staring up at the barely filled sails? Graves touched his hat?
'Mastheyd lookout has not yet sighted anything, sir.'
Bolitho nodded and strode to the compass. North-west by north. It seemed as if it had been riveted in that direction since time began. It was hardly surprising Fawn had sighted the newcomer first. In her position ahead and slightly to starboard of the transports she was better placed. All the same, he would have wished otherwise. Fawn's signals and execution ob Colquhoun's orders always seemed to be that much quicker than his?
Through the criss-cross of rigging and shrouds and slightly to starboard of the rearmost transport he saw the other sloop tacking awkwardly in the gentle westerly breeze. With every stitch of canvas on her braced yards she was barely making headway?
From aloft came the sudden cry, 'Deck there! Sail on the starboard beam!'
Tyrrell crossed to Bolitho's side?
'What d'you think? One of our own?'
Graves said swiftly, 'Or a damned Yankee, eh?'
Bolitho saw the exchange of glances, the sudden hostility between them like something physical?
He said calmly, 'We will know directly, gentlemen.'
Midshipman Bethune called, 'From Fawn, sir? Remain on station.'
Graves said complacently, 'There goes Fawn. She's going about to take a soldier's wind under her tail.'
Bolitho said, 'Get aloft, Mr. Graves. I want to know everything you can discover about that sail.'
Graves stared at him.' I've a good hand aloft, sir.'
Bolitho met his resentment gravely.' And now] require a good officer there, too, Mr. Graves. An experienced eye and not just a clear one.'
Graves moved stiffly to the weather shrouds and after the merest hesitation began to climb?
Tyrrell said quietly, 'Do him good, that one!'
Bolitho glanced around the crowded quarterdeck?
'Maybe, Mr. Tyrrell. But if you imagine I am using ma authority to foster some petty spite between you then] must assure you otherwise.' He lowered his voice.' It is an enemy we are fighting, not each other!'
Then he took a telescope from the rack and walked to the foot of the mizzen mast. Steadying his legs against the uncomfortable motion he trained the glass on the Fawn and then very slowly beyond her. Minutes passed, and then as the distant ship lifted on some large roller he saw her topgallant sails shining in the first sunlight like matched pink shells. She was clawing her way closehauled on a converging course, her yards braced so tightly they were almost fore-and-aft?
Graves yelled down, 'Frigate, sir!' A pause as every man looked up at his tiny silhouette against the sky? 'English built!'
Bolitho stayed silent. English built perhaps. But who now stood behind her guns? He watched Fawn edging round, her masthead pendant lifting and curling listlessly. More flags shot up her yards and Bethune yelled, 'From Fawn, sir. Recognition signal.' A further pause as he groped through his grubby book.' She's the Miranda, thirty- two, Captain Selby, sir.'
Buckle said to the deck at large, 'From England most likely.'
The light was already stronger, and as he stared across the brightening water Bolitho could feel the firs?
warm rays against his face. From England. Every man aboard was probably thinking of those words. Except for Tyrrell and the colonists in the company. But all the rest would be picturing his own past way of life. Village or farm, some ale house outside a harbour or fishing port. A woman's face, a child's last grip before the harder hands of the pressgang?
He found himself thinking of his own home in Falmouth. The great stone house below Pendennis Castle where his father would be waiting and wondering about him and his brother Hugh, while he remained in Cornwall. Like all the Bolitho ancestorss his father had been a sea-officer, but having lost an arm and his health was now confined to a landbound existence, always within sight of the ships and the sea which had forsaken him?
'From Fawn, sir. General. Heave to.'
Colquhoun, it seemed, was quite satisfied with the other ship's identity. For once the two transports needed no extra goading to obey the signal. Perhaps like the rest they, too, were eager for news from that other world?
Bolitho closed the glass and handed it to Z
boatswain's mate?
'Shorten sail, Mr. Tyrrell, and heave to as ordered.l He waited until the lieutenant had shouted for the topmen to get aloft and then added, 'That frigate has been hard worked so her mission must be important.'
He had watched the newcomer while she had forged towards the uneven cluster of ships, had seen the great scars on her hull where the sea had pared away the paintwork like a giant knife. Her sails, too, looked much repaired, evidence of a rapid voyage?
Bethune shouted, 'Miranda's hoisted another signals sir!' He swayed in the shrouds as he tried to level his big telescope.' To Fawn. Captain repair on board.'
Once again Fawn's response was swift, her big gig being swayed out within minutes of the signal. Bolitho could imagine Colquhoun hurrying to the other ship and the Miranda's consternation when they discovered that he was senior to their own captain?
Whatever it entailed, the matter was obviousla urgent, and not merely an exchange of gossip at this chance encounter in open waters?
Bolitho rubbed his chin and said, 'I'm going below?
Call me if anything happens.'
In the cabin he found Stockdale waiting with his coat and sword, his lopsided grin very broad as he muttered, 'Thought you'd be wantin' these, sir.'
Fitch was gripping the table, his legs spread apart as the sloop rolled and staggered in the uncomfortable troughs, the power gone from her sails. He was staring at the breakfast he had just brought, his narrow features resigned?
Bolitho smiled.' Never fear, I'll find time to eat it later.'
It was strange that the mere sight of another ship, the obscure hint of excitement, had given him an appetite at last. He gulped down some coffee as Stockdale adjusted his swordbelt before handing him the coat?
Perhaps Miranda had discovered an enemy and needed help to attack them. Maybe the war was overs or another had broken out elsewhere. The possibilities seemed endless?
He looked up and saw Tyrrell peering through the open skylight?
'Cap'n, sir! The Fawn's gig is shoving off from the frigate.'
Bolitho replied, 'Thank you.' He forcibly disguised his disappointment.' That was quick.'
Tyrrell vanished and he added quietly, 'There'll be time for breakfast after all.'
He was mistaken. Even as he began to unfasten his swordbelt Tyrrell's face reappeared at the skylight, his words filling the cabin as he shouted, 'From Fawn, sir? Repair on board forthwith.'
Stockdale bounded from the cabin, his hoarse voice bellowing for the gig's crew which the boatswain had already thought prudent to muster?
With frantic haste the boat was swung outboard and dropped alongside, where with little thought for dignita or
