Graves hurried on, 'This is Mr. Buckle, the sailing master, sir. Mr. Dalkeith, surgeon.' His voice followed Bolitho down the small line of senior warrant officers?
Bolitho marked each face but checked himself from further contact. That would come soon enough, but now his own impression on them was far more vital?
He stood by the quarterdeck rail and stared down at the gun deck. The Sparrow was one hundred and ten feet long on that deck, but had a broad beam of thirta feet, almost that of a frigate. No wonder she could contain such powerful armament for her size?
He said, 'Have the hands lay aft, Mr. Graves.'
As the order was passed and the men came pressing down on those already assembled, he drew his commission from his pocket and spread it on the rail. How hot the wood felt beneath his hands?
Again he darted a glance at the faces beneath him? In so small a ship how did they all manage to exist. There were one hundred and fifteen souls crammed aboard Sparrow, and as they jostled together below the quarterdeck there appeared to be twice that number?
Graves touched his hat.' All present, sir.'
Bolitho replied with equal formality, 'Thank you.' Then in a steady voice he began to read himself in?
He had heard other captains do it often enough, but as he read the beautifully penned words he felt once more like a spectator?
It was addressed to Richard Bolitho, Esquire, and required him forthwith to go on board and take upon him the charge and command of captain in His Britannic Majesty's Sloop-of-War Sparrow?
Once or twice as his voice carried along the deck he heard a man cough or move his feet, and aboard another sloop close by he saw an officer watching the proceedings through a telescope?
He put the commission in his coat and said, 'I will go to my quarters, Mr. Graves.'
He replaced his hat and walked slowly towards a covered hatch just forward of the mizzen mast. He noticed that the ship's wheel was completely unsheltered. A bad place in a storm, he thought, or when the balls begin to fly?
At his back he heard the rising murmur of voices as the men were dismissed, and noticed, too, the heavy smell of cooking in the listless air. He was glad he had restrained himself from making a speech. It would have been vanity, and he knew it. All the same, it was so precious a day that he wanted to share it with all ob them in some way?
In his excitement he had forgotten about the time? Now as he made his way down a ladder to the gun deck and aft behind Graves 's crouched figure he was more than glad he had restricted himself to the formal reading of his appointment. Men kept standing in the sun to hear a pompous speech were one thing. Men kept also from their well-earned meal were something else entirely?
He gasped as his head crashed against a deck beam?
Graves spun round.' I beg your pardon, sir!' He seemed terrified Bolitho should blame him for the lack of headroom?
'I will remember next time.'
He reached the stern cabin and stepped inside. For an instant he stood motionless, taking in the graceful sloping stern windows which spread from quarter to quarter, displaying the anchorage and the headland like some glistening panorama. The cabin was beautifully painted in pale green, the panels picked out with gold leaf. The deck was concealed with a black and white checked canvas covering, and arranged on either side was a selection of well-made furniture? Gingerly he raised his head and found he could just stand upright between the beams above?
Graves was watching him worriedly.' I am afraid that after a ship-of-the-line, sir, you'll find this somewhat cramped.'
Bolitho smiled.' Have the ship's books brought to me after you have dined, Mr. Graves. I will also want to meet the other officers informally sometime today.' He paused, seeing again the caution in his eyes? 'Including the first lieutenant.'
Graves bowed himself out and Bolitho turned his back to the closed door?
Cramped, after a ship-of-the-line, Graves had said? He hurled his hat across the cabin on to the bench seat below the windows. His sword he unbuckled and dropped in a green velvet chair. He was laughing aloud, and the effort to restrain it was almost painful?
Cramped. He walked, ducking between the beams? It was a palace after the Trojan's wardroom?
He sat down beside his hat and stared around the neat, cheerful-looking cabin?
And it was his own?
2. Freedom
IT WAS late afternoon when Bolitho finally decided he had read all that there was available about the ship around him. Muster and punishment books, watch-bills and ledgers of stores and victualling returns, the list seemed endless. But at no time was he bored. With his new coat hanging on a chairback, his neckcloth loosened and shirt unbuttoned, he found each item fascinating?
His predecessor, Captain Ransome, had kept a smart and well-run ship on the face of things. The punishment book had all the usual culprits and awards for minor misdemeanours. A few for drunkenness, even less for insolence and insubordination, and the worst recorded crime was that of a seaman who had struck a petty officer during gun drill?
Ransome had been extremely lucky in one thing? With the ship being commissioned on the Thames he had been able to secure the cream of the press. Men off incoming merchant ships, transfers from vessels laid up in ordinary, he had been in a position to complete his company with far less difficulty than most captains?
Against the apparent taut atmosphere in the ship was a rather negative list of reports in the log books? Only once had Sparrow been called to action in the two years since leaving England, and then as secondary reinforcement to a frigate attacking a blockade runner? It was little wonder that Midshipman Heyward had showed some concern at his remarks about the big bow chasers. He had probably imagined his words to be some sort of criticism at their lack of use?
There were the usual lists of men transferred to other ships because of promotion and the like. Their places had been filled by what Ransome had termed 'local colonist volunteers' in his personal log. Bolitho had lingered a good deal on the previous captain's daily records. His comments were extremely brief and it was impossible to get even a feel of the man. As he paused to glance around the cabin from time to time Bolitho found himself wondering about Ransome. An experienced and competent officer, obviously a man ob good breeding and therefore influence, the cabin seemed at odds with his mental portrait. Extremely attractive, comfortable, yet just that too much removed from what you might expect in a ship-of-war?
He sighed and leaned back in the chair as his cabin servant, Fitch, padded into the shafted sunlight to remove the remains of his meal?
Fitch was tiny. A miserable scrap of a man, who had already confessed to having been a petty thief in his unfortunate past. Saved from transportation or worse by the timely arrival of a King's ship as he awaited sentence at the Assizes, he had accepted life at sea more as an extension to his punishment than any love of service. But he seemed a capable servant and was probably well pleased with his work. It kept him from the heavier tasks on deck, and provided his current master was a humane man he had little to fear?
Bolitho watched him as he collected the crockery on to a tray. It had been an excellent meal. Cold tongue and fresh vegetables from ashore, and the claret which Fitch had mournfully observed wa, «the last of Cap'n Ransome's stock' had been a touch of perfection?
'Your late captain.' Bolitho saw the small man stiffen? 'Did he leave any instruction as to his property aboard?'
Fitch dropped his eyes.' Mr. Tyrrell 'as attended to its sir. It's been sent to a transport for passage 'ome.'
'He must have been an officer of some consequence.'
Bolitho hated this form of questioning, but he felt he needed some link, no matter how small, with the man who had controlled this ship from the day she had slid into the water?
