Rojart said, 'I arrive to offer my services, Capitan.' He looked at Davy and Allday, his face very proud. 'Don Luis 'as instructed me to do all I can to 'elp you.'
Bolitho sighed. Rojart had already shown himself to be somewhat of a dreamer. Or perhaps his cruel experiences in the shipwreck had made him as he was. But one more officer, Spanish or not, would be useful. He also provided an excuse.
He said to Davy, 'So you see, Mr. Herrick will need your services more than ever now?'
To Rojart he replied, 'I accept your offer, Teniente, thank you.'
The Spaniard gave a flashing smile and bowed. 'Your servant, Capitin!'
Allday grinned and murmured, 'God help us all!'
Another cask was being manhandled on to the beach, and Duff puffed out of the trees, folding his spectacles as he shouted, 'That be the last 'un, sir!' He beamed at the onlookers. 'A full load!'
Soames tightened his swordbelt and said, 'Ready when you are, sir.' He pointed to the assembled seamen. 'All armed, but without any unnecessary gear to drag 'em back.' He ignored Davy.
Keen and his pickets were gathering at the end of the beach, and by the shallows Pryke stood guard over an odd pile of timber which his mates had collected for him.
Davy touched his hat formally. 'I wish you luck, sir.'
Bolitho smiled. 'Thank you. I hope we will not need it just yet.'
He glanced at Fowlar. 'Lead the way and make notes as we go. Who knows, we may come here again some day.'
Then he turned his back on the sea and strode up the beach towards the trees.
'We will rest now.'
Bolitho dragged his watch from his breeches pocket and peered at it. Its face was harder to see than the last occasion. When he looked up at a gap in the trees he thought the sky was already duller, the trees touched with purple instead of gold. Around him the seamen dropped wearily on their knees or leaned against the trees, trying to gain relief after their forced march. The first part had not been too difficult. With axes swinging to carve a trail, they had made good time, but as they drew closer to where Bolitho and Fowlar estimated the inlet lay, they had stopped using axes, and had fought their way through the brush and creeper with bare hands.
He looked at them thoughtfully. Their shirts were ripped and torn, faces and arms bloody from encounters with treacherous branches and thorns. At their backs the intertwined trees
had grown blacker, and seemed to shiver in the vapour of dead vegetation as if in a wind which could not be felt.
Soames was wiping his face and neck with a rag. 'I've sent scouts ahead, sir.' He knocked a water bottle from a man's mouth. 'Easy, damn you! That may have to last awhile yet!'
Bolitho saw him with different eyes. Like the men Soames had selected as scouts, for instance. Not the toughest or the most seasoned seamen as a lieutenant of his background might be expected to choose. Both scouts were from Undine's newest recruits and had never been to sea before. One had worked on a farm, and the other had been a Norfolk wildfowler. Excellent choices both, he thought. They had gone off into the trees with hardly a sound.
Allday muttered, 'What d'you think, Captain?'
His sturdy figure, familiar and reassuring, made Bolitho relax slightly.
He replied, 'I think we are very near now.'
He wondered how Herrick was managing, and whether he had sighted any more native craft. He shivered. Like most of his men, he felt out of place here.
'Cut off.' Fowlar hissed, 'Stand to, lads! Someone's a'comin'!'
Muskets moved blindly in the gloom, and a few men started to draw their cutlasses.
Soames snapped, 'A scout!' He strode towards the shadow. 'By God, Hodges, that was quickly done.'
The man stepped into the small clearing and looked at Bolitho.
'I found the ship, sir. She be about 'alf a mile away.' He stretched out one arm. 'If we veers a piece we should be able to reach 'er within the hour.'
'What else?'
Hodges shrugged. He was a lean man, and Bolitho could well picture him as a wildfowler, creeping about in the Norfolk marshes.
He said, 'I didn't stray too near, you'll understand, sir. But they're anchored close in. There's more on 'em ashore in a clearing. I 'card someone,' he faltered, 'sort of moanin'.' He shuddered. 'It made me flesh tingle, I can tell you, sir.'
Soames said harshly, 'As I thought. Bloody slavers. They'll have a camp ashore. They collect the poor devils and sort 'em into groups. Girls in one party, men in t'other. They weigh 'em, then decide who will last the voyage to wherever the cargo is bound.'
Fowlar spat on the dead leaves and nodded. 'The rest they leave behind. Cut their throats to save powder and shot.'
Bolitho looked at the scout, trying to shut Fowlar's blunt comment from his thoughts. Everyone knew it happened. Nobody seemed to know how to deal with it. Especially when many influential persons reaped a rich profit from the trade.
'Are there guards about?'
'I saw two, sir. But they seem well content. The ship 'as two guns run out.'
Soames grunted. 'No doubt. A bellyful of grape or canister if anyone tries to free those bastards!'
The Spanish lieutenant moved amongst them. Despite the rough passage through the trees he managed to remain very elegant in his ruffled shirt and wide cuffs.
'Per'aps we should continue towards the shore, Capitan.' He shrugged eloquently. 'There is no sense in arousing this ship if she is a mere slaver, yes?'
Soames turned away, saying nothing. But Bolitho guessed that like most sailors he was disgusted that Rojart could accept slavery as a natural state of affairs.
'We go forward, Teniente. In any case, our boats will not come for us until tomorrow.'
He looked at Soames. 'Take charge. I am going to see for myself.' He beckoned to Midshipman Keen. 'You, too.' As he felt his way out of the clearing he added, 'The rest of you, be ready to follow. No talking, and hold on to each other if you fear getting separated. Any man who fires a musket by whatever means or accident will feel my anger!'
Hodges pushed ahead saying, 'My mate, Billy Norris, is keepin' a weather eye on 'em, sir. Follow close. I've marked the way.'
Bolitho took his word, although he could see no marks anywhere.
It was amazing how near they had been. It seemed no time at all before Hodges was tapping his arm and gesturing for him to take cover amidst some sharp-toothed scrub, and here, opening up like a theatre, was the inlet. And how much lighter it seemed, the sunlight still lingering on the trees, and painting the sluggishly moving water with rippling reflections.
He eased himself forward, trying to ignore the painful jabs in his hands and chest. Then he froze, forgetting all the discomfort and uncertainty as he saw the ship for the first time.
Behind him he heard Allday voicing his thoughts.
'By God, Captain, it's the one which lured the Dons on to that reef!'
Bolitho nodded. The brigantine appeared larger in the confined inlet, but there was no mistaking her. He. knew he would not forget her for many a year to come.
He heard the same pitiful moaning Hodges had described, and then the sharp clatter of steel on the,far side of the inlet.
Allday whispered, 'Putting manacles on the wretches.'
'Yes.'
He wriggled forward again, seeing the brigantine's anchor cable, a boat alongside, the glow of light from her poop. As before, no flag. But there was no doubting her watchfulness. Two guns already run out, muzzles depressed to rake any attacker.
A boat glided from the shore, very slowly, and Bolitho tensed as a woman cried out, the sound dragging at his nerves as it echoed around the trees.
