of fried pork, Bolitho was able to relax, to weigh the value and cost of the night's work. He had faced his first storm in command. A man had died, but many others had stayed alive. And the Sparrow was once again dipping and creaking around him as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all?
Stockdale put a plate with half a loaf of stale bread on it beside a crock of yellow butter. The bread was the last of that brought aboard at New York, the butter probably rancid from the cask. But as Bolitho leaned back in his chair he felt like a king, and the meagre breakfast seemed no less than a banquet?
He stared idly around the cabin. He had survived much in so short a time. It was luck, more than he deserved?
He asked, 'Where is Fitch?'
Stockdale showed his teeth.' Dryin' your sleeping gear, sir.' He rarely spoke when Bolitho was eating and thinking. He had learned all about Bolitho's odd habits long back. He added, 'Woman's work.'
Bolitho laughed, the sound carrying up through the open skylight where Tyrrell had the watch and Buckle was scribbling on his slate beside the binnacle?
Buckle shook his head.' What did I tell you? No worries, that one!'
'Deck there!' Tyrrell stared up at the masthead as the cry came.' Sail! Fine on th' starboard quarter!'
Feet clattered on the ladder and Bolitho appeared beside him, his jaw still working on some buttered bread?
He said, 'I have a feeling about this morning.' He saw a master's mate by the mainmast trunk and called, «Mr. Raven! Aloft with you!' He held up his hand, halting the man as he ran to the shrouds.' Remember your lesson, as I will.'
Graves had also come on deck, partly shaved and naked to the waist. Bolitho looked around the waiting men, studying each in turn if only to contain his impatience while Raven clawed his way to the masthead. Changed. They were all different in some way. Toughened, more confident perhaps. Like bronzed pirates, held together by their trade-he hesitated-their loyalty?
'Deck there!' Another maddening wait and then Raven yelled down, 'It's her right enough! The Bonaventure!'
Something like a growl came from the watching seamen?
One man shouted, 'The bloody Bonaventure, is it. Us'll give that bugger a quiltin' today an' that's for sure!'
Severyl others cheered, and even Bethune called excitedly, 'Huzza, lads!'
Bolitho turned to look at them again, his heart suddenly heavy, the promise of the morning sour and spoiled?
'Get the t'gallants on her, Mr. Tyrrell. The royals, too, if the wind stays friendly.'
He saw Tyrrell's eyes, worried, even sad, and snapped, 'We have orders. To carry despatches to our admiral.' He gestured angrily towards the taffrail.' Do you want to match guns with her?' He turned away, adding vehemently, 'By God, I'd like nothing better than to see her strike!'
Tyrrell took his trumpet and shouted, 'Call th' hands0 All hands make sail!'
He glanced quickly at Bolitho who was staring astern. The privateer was not visible from anywhere but the masthead. Nor would she be now. But Bolitho was staring fixedly, as if he could see every gun, each gaping muzzle, like the day she had swept Miranda's defences aside like so much rubbish?
Graves moved to his side, his eyes on the seamen as they hurried to their various stations, some still puzzled by their orders?
Tyrrell said quietly, 'It ain't easy to run before an enemy.'
Graves shrugged.' How about you? I'd have thought you should be somewhat comforted by the fact.' He fell back before Tyrrell's cold stare but added smoothly, 'It would have been less easy for you to fight a Yankees eh?' Then he hurried down the ladder towards his men at the foremast?
Tyrrell followed him with his eyes.' Bastard.' He spoke only to himself and was surprised to find he was so calm.' Bastard.'
When he turned his head he saw Bolitho had left the deck?
Buckle dipped his thumb to the skylight.' He's not laughing now, Mr. Tyrrell.' He sounded grim.' I'd not have his rank for all the whores in Plymouth!'
Tyrrell tapped the half-hour glass and said nothing?
How different from Captain Ransome, he thought?
He would have shared neither hopes nor fears with any of them. And these same seamen who were already swarming up the ratlines on either beam would have shown no surprise if he made a similar decision as Bolitho. It was because they seemed to think Bolitho could lead them anywhere, and with all odds against them, that they were puzzled by his action. The sudden realisation troubled him. Partly because Bolitho did not understand, but mainly because he should have been the one to make Bolitho realise how they all felt for him?
Ransome had always used and never led them? Instead of example he had laid down rules. Whereas he… Tyrrell glanced at the cabin skylight now shuts and imagined he could hear a girl's voice again?
Graves strode aft and touched his hat, his tone formal in front of the watching eyes?
'Permission to dismiss the watch below, sir?'
'Aye. Carry on, Mr. Graves.' They held each other's gaze then Tyrrell turned his back?
He walked to the rail and stared up at the freshly trimmed sails, the seamen on the upper yards, their skins brown in the sunlight?
The privateer would never catch them now, even if she so intended. It would be another ship, a fat merchantman, or some unsuspecting trader from the Bahamas?
He saw the captain's coxswain beside the nettings and asked, 'How is he, Stockdale?'
Stockdale regarded him warily, like a watchdog examining a possible intruder?
Then he relaxed slightly, his big hands loose at his sides.' 'E's in irons at th' moment, sir.' He stared angrily at the blue water.' But we've come through worse afore. A whole lot worse.'
Tyrrell nodded, seeing the certainty in Stockdale's eyes like something written?
'He has a good friend in you, Stockdale.'
The coxswain turned his broken face away.' Aye. I could tell you things I seen 'im do that'd make some ob these Jacks run to their mothers and pray.'
Tyrrell kept quiet and very still, watching the man's profile as he relived some memory, an incident so vivid it was like yesterday?
Stockdale said in his wheezing voice, 'I've carried 'im like a child, seen 'im so beside hisself with anger there's not a man-jack'd draw near. Other times I've seen 'im 'old a man in 'is arms until 'e died, even though there was nought anyone could do for th' poor bugger.' He swung round, his eyes fierce.' I ain't got the words for it, else I'd make 'em all listen.'
Tyrrell reached out and touched his massive arm?
'You're wrong. You've got th' words right enough. And thanks for telling me.'
Stockdale grunted and walked heavily towards the hatch. He had never spoken like that before, but somehow he trusted Tyrrell. Like Bolitho, he was a man, not just an officer, and for him that was more than enough?
All that day the Sparrow ran freely towards an empty horizon. The watches changed, drills were carried outs and one man was flogged for drawing his knife against a messmate after an argument. But there were no contests on deck, and when Heyward appeared with his swords to begin another period of instruction he found no takers, nor did Dalkeith leave his sickbay for a pistol shoot?
In his cabin Bolitho remained with his thoughts, wondering why a simple action was so hard to bears merely because he had been the one to dictate it? Command, leadership, authority, they were mere words. At no time could they explain his true feelings, or wipe away inner misgivings?
As Rear-Admiral Christie had said, the right way was not always the most popular, or the easiest to accept?
When the bell chimed out for the first dog watch he heard another cry from the masthead?
'Deck there! Sail on the lee bow!'
He made himself remain seated at the table until Midshipman Bethune came down to report that the sail was barely moving and was perhaps hove-to?
Even then he delayed before going on deck. Another disappointment, a fresh need to take avoiding action from
