party lounged in various stages of abandon, while above their heads the air was tinged with a slow-moving vapour of smoke from their long pipes.
Old Ben Strachan picked up a new rope and examined the eye-splice which one of the ship's boys had just completed.
`Not bad, youngster. Not bad at all.' He sucked noisily at his pipe and peered aft the length of the Phalarope's deck. `Is that the cap'n pacin' up an' down?'
Pochin, who was lying with his head cradled on his thick arms, muttered, `Course it is! Must be mad to be in this 'eat when 'e could be down in 'is cabin!'
Allday swung one leg and stared thoughtfully at the clear water below him. Pochin was still worried about Onslow's words in the cutter. He was edgy, as if he realised his own guilt. Just listening to such talk made a man liable to be labelled a conspirator.
He turned slightly to look aft, and across the length of the ship he saw Herrick, watching him from the quarterdeck. The lieutenant gave him a brief nod of recognition before returning to his own contemplation, and Allday suddenly remembered that moment on the crumbling cliff when he had stopped Herrick from falling to the rocks below. In spite of his original intention to stay apart from internal affairs in the Phalarope, and to keep clear of loyalty to either faction, Allday was beginning to realise that such neutrality was impossible, even dangerous.
Allday liked Herrick, and recognised what he was trying to do. He was always ready to listen to complaints from his division, and was never quick to award punishment. But he was no fool, and few took advantage of his humane manner a second time.
Allday could see the captain still pacing the quarterdeck at the weather rail, coatless with his shirt open to his chest and his dark hair pulled back to the nape of his neck. He was a harder man to know, Allday thought, but it was strangely reassuring to see him back at his familiar place on the poop. Allday, perhaps better than most, knew the reputation of the Bolitho family. On his visits to Falmouth he had often heard them discussed in the taverns, and had even seen the house which was the captain's home. It was strange to realise that he had a brother fighting on the other side. Allday wondered how he would have felt. Not only that,- but Bolitho's brother was said to have deserted from the Navy, a crime which could only be wiped out at the end of a rope.
He came back from his thoughts as Ferguson climbed up from the maindeck and walked across to the rail. He looked strained and self-conscious in his clean clothes, a marked contrast to the tired and sweating seamen who had once been his companions.
Ferguson fidgeted for a few moments and then said, 'Do you think we will see any more fighting?'
Pochin turned his head and growled, `You should know! Aren't you in the captain's pocket?'
Allday grinned. `Don't pay any attention to Nick.' He dropped his voice. `Has Onslow been after you again?' He saw Ferguson 's pale eyes flicker.
'Not much. He just passes the time with me sometimes.'
'Well, remember my warning, Bryan!' Allday studied him 'closely. 'I've not told a living soul aboard, but I believe he had a lot to do with Mathias's death.' He saw the disbelief on Ferguson 's face and added sharply, 'In fact, I'm sure he had!'
'Why should he do a thing like that?' Ferguson tried to smile, but his mouth remained slack.
'He's a bad one. He knows no other life but this. He came to the Beet as a child. His world is bounded by the sides of a wooden hull.' He ran his hands along the carved cathead. 'I've met a few of his kind before, Bryan. They're as dangerous as wolves!'
Ferguson said, 'He'll not make trouble. He wouldn't dare!'
'No? And why do you think he keeps asking about the cabin? He's biding his time. His sort have a lot of patience.'
'The captain'd not stand for any more trouble!' Ferguson showed his agitation in the quick movements of his hands. 'I've heard him telling Mr. Vibart about taking care of the men. About how he wants them treated.'
Allday sighed. 'You see? You're even telling me what you've heard. If you want to stay safe you'd better keep what you know to yourself.'
Ferguson stared at him. 'You don't have to tell me!' He tightened his mouth with sudden anger. 'You're just like the others. You're jealous because of my job!'
A1lday turned away. 'Suit yourself.'
He waited until he heard Ferguson moving aft again. Then he turned to watch as Onslow stepped from beside the mainmast to stop his passing. He saw Onslow grinning and patting Ferguson on the shoulder.
Pochin's hard voice interrupted his thoughts. 'What d'you reckon? D'you think Onslow is right?' He sounded worried.
'If there is more trouble aboard this ship we'll all be in it. We'll have to take sides!'
Allday replied flatly, `You'd be a fool to pay heed to that one!' He tried to put some value to his words. `Anyway, the captain'll make short work of him if he tries anything!'
Pochin nodded doubtfully. `Maybe. Dyin' under a French broadside is one thing, but I'll not cough out blood for 'im or the buggers like Onslow!'
The pipes shrilled again, and the men stirred themselves back to work.
Allday kept his eyes down to his task as Quintal, the boatswain, and Josling, one of his mates, walked forward to inspect the forecastle. He heard Josling say, 'I see that the old Cassius was signalling just now, Mr. Quintal?
.Quintal replied in his deep voice, `Aye, lad. We'll be hauling off shortly to our own little patrol area. It'll be a long job, I wouldn't wonder, so see that you keep the hands busy. There's nothing worse for discipline than too much free time.' The rest of his comments were lost to Allday as the two men moved up towards the bowsprit, but he had heard enough.
Phalarope was to be alone again, and out of sight of the flagship. The boatswain was right. With the heat and the dull monotony of an empty patrol, Onslow would find a good breeding ground for more trouble if he could.
He looked sideways at his silent companions, each man apparently engrossed in his own task, yet each no doubt thinking of that green patch of land which they had just left behind.
No ordinary seaman had set foot ashore. Some of the crew had not left a deck for years. It was hardly surprising that men like Onslow could find a ready audience.
He shaded his eyes and stared towards the horizon. Already the distant two-decker seemed smaller, her hull lost in the heat haze below the clear sky. Her sails had merged into one shining pyramid, and as he watched she appeared to sink lower in the glittering sea. Another hour and she would have vanished altogether.
After that, he thought coldly, you could trust no man.
Deep below the forecastle deck where Allday sat immersed in his own thoughts was the Phalarope's cable tier. In harbour it was a spacious, empty place, but now, as the frigate moved listlessly on the calm water, it was packed to the deckhead with the massive anchor cables. Coil upon coil, the great, salthardened ropes added to the sour stench of the bilges and the richer smells of tar and hemp. Stout upright pillars on either side of the shelving hull held the cables clear of the timbers to alloww easy access to the ship's fabric at all times. These 'car. penter's walks' as. they were named ran the full length of the hull below the water-line to afford inspection and, if necessary, repairs in time of battle. Little wider than a man's body, they were usually in total darkness.
But now, as the bow wave swished dully against the timbers and furtive rats continued their endless search for food, a small, shaded lantern cast an eerie light against the piled cable and threw a distorted reflection back to the faces of the men squeezed in the narrow passageway.
Onslow held the lantern higher and peered at the waiting men. He only had to count them to be sure. He knew each man's face and name without need for further examination.
'We must be quick, lads! We'll be missed if we stay too long!'
Like an echo he heard Pook's voice. 'Just pay heed to wot 'e says!'
Onslow's teeth gleamed in the darkness. He could feel his legs shaking with wild excitement, like the effect of rum on an empty stomach. 'We're pulling away from the other ships. I think the time has almost come to carry out our plan.'
He heard a dull murmur of agreement and grinned even broader. Just by saying our instead of my acted on these men like the crack of a whip.
'From what Ferguson has told me Bolitho intends to run to the south'rd. The Phalarope'll be on the end of the patrol line. No chance of meeting any of the others, y'see?'
