Then the buzz of conversation died away, and every man turned to face a side door as the small procession entered the cabin.
Bolitho was shocked to see the change which had come over Sir George Rodney since he had last seen him some two years earlier. Beneath the resplendent uniform with its bright ribbon and decorations the admiral's once upright figure appeared bent and drooping, and his mouth, now set in a tight line, betrayed the illness which had plagued him for so many months. It was hard to picture him as the same man who had overwhelmed a powerful enemy force only two years ago to break through and relieve the besieged fortress of Gibraltar, or who had attacked and sacked St. Eustatius and taken over three million sterling back to England as a prize.
But the eyes were the same. Hard and steady, as if they drew and contained all the energy of his being.
At his side his second in command, Sir Samuel Hood, made a sharp contrast. He looked calm and composed as he studied the assembled officers, his features dominated by his large, arrogant nose and high forehead.
Behind his two superiors Sir Robert Napier looked almost insignificant, Bolitho thought.
Sir George Rodney lowered himself into a tall chair and folded his hands in his lap. Then he said curtly, `I wanted you all here to tell you that it now seems likely the French and their allies will attempt a final overthrow of English forces in this area.' He coughed shortly and dabbed his mouth with a handkerchief. 'Comte de Grasse has assembled a strong force of ships of the line, the most powerful vessels ever gathered under one flag, and were I in his fortunate position I would have no hesitation in preparing to do battle.'
He coughed again, and Bolitho felt a tremor of uneasiness transmit itself through the watching, officers. The strain of years of planning and fighting were paring Rodney away like a knife blade. When he had sailed for England there was not an officer in his fleet who did not believe it was his last journey and that another would return to take his place. But somewhere within that tired body was a soul of steel. Rodney intended to see no replacement in the West Indies to take either the fruits of his hard and unsparing work or the shame and misery of possible defeat.
Sir Samuel Hood said evenly, Intelligence has reached us that there is more to de Grasse's intentions than a mere sea victory. He has been gathering seasoned French troops, as well as supplying arms and assistance to the American colonials. He is a shrewd and dedicated strategist, and I believe he intends to exploit whatever successes he has already made.' He looked suddenly across the nearest heads and fixed his heavy lidded eyes on Bolitho.
`The captain of the frigate Phalarope has added to this information in no little amount, gentlemen!'
For a few seconds every head in the cabinn turned to stare at him, and caught off guard by this turn of events Bolitho felt a tinge of confusion.
In those few seconds he got a vague impression of faces and the reactions of their owners. Some nodded approvingly, and some merely eyed him with barely masked envy. Others studied his face as if to search out some deeper meaning from the admiral's comment„ A small item of praise from Hood, and therefore condoned by the great Rodney himself, could immediately mark Bolitho as a firm rival in the ladder of promotion and reward.
Hood added dryly. `Now that you all know each other, we will continue! From this day forward our vigilance must be stepped up. Our patrols must make every effort to watch each enemy port and spare no efforts to pass information back to me. When de Grasse breaks out it will be swift and final. If we cannot call his challenge and close him in battle we are done for, and make no mistake about it!'
His deep, booming voice' filled the crowded cabin, so that Bohtho could almost feel the import of his words like a physical force.
The admiral went on tirelessly and methodically outline the known whereabouts of supply ships enemy force showed neither strain nor impatience, and there was nothing at all in his manner to betray the fact that he had only recently returned to Antigua after holding St. Kitts against the whole French military force and their attendant fleet.
Sir George Rodney interrupted, 'I want every one of you to study and familiarise yourselves with my signal requirements.' He looked sharply around the cabin. 'I will not tolerate any officer misunderstanding my signals, any more than I will accept excuses for failing to execute same!'
Several captains exchanged quick glances. It was well known that when Rodney had tried to close the French admiral de Guichen off Martinique, and had not succeeded because some of his captains had failed either to understand or react to his signals, he had been quite ruthless. More than one captain now lived on miserly half-pay in England with nothing but disgrace and bad memories for comfort.
Rodney continued in a calmer tone, `Watch for my signals. Wherever, and on whatever ship my flag flies, watch for my signals!' He leaned back and stared at the deckhead. `This time there will be no second chance. We will win a great victory, or we will lose everything!'
He nodded to Hood, who added briefly, `Orders will be issued immediately to senior officers of squadrons. From the moment you leave here the fleet will be in all respects ready for sea. It is up to our patrolling frigates and sloops to watch the enemy's lairs like hounds.' He pounded the table with his fist. `Give the Commander-in-Chief the scent and the kill is assured!'
There was a murmur of approval, and Bolitho realised that the meeting was over.
Lieutenant Dancer said quietly, `I wonder where our squadron will be sent? I would hate to miss the final scene when it comes!'
Bolitho nodded, mentally smiling at the picture of the tiny Witch of Looe engaging de Grasse's'three-deckers. Aloud he said, `There are never enough frigates. In every war it is the same story. Too little too late!' But he could say it without bitterness. Phalarope would be needed more than ever now. With the vast sea areas, the complex hiding places amongst the lines of scattered islands, every frigatee would have more than enough to do.
He realised with a start that a sharp-faced flag-lieutenant had crossed the cabin to stop him leaving with the others.
`Sir George Rodney wishes to speak to you.'
Bolitho hitched up his 'sword and walked across the thick carpet. By the table he halted, half listening to the retreating scrape of footsteps. He heard the door close and the distant shrill of pipes speeding the exit of the fleet's captains, and for a terrible moment he thought he had misunderstood the flag. lieutenant's words.
Rodney was still sitting in his chair, his eyes half closed as he stared at the deckhead. Hood and Sir Robert Napier were completely engrossed in a chart on a nearby desk, and even the messmen seemed busy and oblivious to the young captainn by the table.
Then Rodney lowered his eyes and said wearily, `I know your father, Bolitho. We sailed together, of course. A very gallant officer, and a good friend.' He let his gaze move slowly across Bolitho's tanned face and down the length of his body. `You have a lot of him in you.' He nodded. `I am glad to have you under my command.'
Bolitho thought of his father alone in the big house, watch-, ing the ships in the bay. He said, `Thank you, sir. My father wished to be remembered to you.'
Rodney did not seem to hear. `There is so much to do. So few ships for the task.' He sighed deeply. `I am sorry you had to meet your only brother in such a fashion.' His eyes were suddenly fixed and unwavering.
Bolitho saw Sir Robert Napier stiffen beside the chart and heard himself reply, `He believes what he is doing is right, sir.'
The eyes were still hard on his face. `And what do you believe?’
'He is my brother, sir. But if we meet again I will not betray my cause.' He hesitated. `Or your trust, sir.'
Rodney nodded. `I never doubted it, my boy.'
Sir Samuel Hood coughed politely, and Rodney said with sudden briskness, `Return to your ship, Bolitho. I hope that both you and your father will be spared further hurt.' His eyes were cold as, he added, `It is easy to do your duty when there is no alternative. Yours was not an easy choice. Nor will it be if your brother is taken!'
He lapsed into silence, and the flag-lieutenant said impa
tiently, `Your hat, sir! And I have just called for your boat!' Bolitho followed the harassed officer into the sunlight, his mind still dwelling on the admiral's words. So the whole fleet would now know about his brother. In the confined, monastic world- of ships permanently at sea he would be discussed and measured against past exploits and future events.
He ran down the gangway to the waiting boat and stared across at the anchored Phalarope. Once she had been on trial. Now it was the turn of her captain.
On the evening of the same day that Bolitho had attended the conference aboard the Formidable, and with a minimum of fuss or ceremony, the Phalarope weighed and headed for the open sea.
The following morning found her a bare fifty miles to the south-west, her full set of sails drawing on the gentle
