thought. For a while longer he held on to the picture of the battered, listing boat, with Bolitho upright in the sternsheets, that old tarnished sword in his hand. If he had not disobeyed Bolitho's order to put the ship's safety before all else, he would indeed be in command now, and Bolitho back there, dying in agony.
'Get the hands to the braces!' He walked to the rail with his speaking trumpet. 'And God bless lady luck!'
Below the cabin hatch Bolitho heard Herrick laugh, and then the clatter of blocks as the seamen went to their stations for getting under way again.
Allday asked quietly, 'Can I fetch you some wine, Captain? Or something a mite more powerful?'
Bolitho leaned against the mizzen mast trunk and felt it vibrating urgently to the pressure of wind and canvas high overhead.
'D'you know, Allday, I think that after all the trouble we went through to get it, I would like a glass of fresh water.'
8. Madras
Bolitho stood very still by the quarterdeck rail and watched the vast spread of land which reached away on either bow. In the morning sunlight the countless white buildings seemed to rise tier upon tier, the uneven skyline decorated at irregular intervals by tall minarets and plump golden domes. It was breathtaking, and he could tell from the quiet way the seamen were moving around the decks that they were equally impressed.
He turned and looked at Herrick. Very tanned, and strangely unreachable in his best uniform.
'We did it.'
Bolitho raised his telescope and watched some high-prowed dhows scudding abeam, their gaunt sails like wings. Even they were part of the magic.
Mudge said, 'Ease off a point'. Then he, too, fell silent as the wheel squeaked over.
Perhaps he was satisfied, and so he should be, Bolitho thought. Madras, the name itself was like one great milestone for what they had achieved together. Three months and two days after weighing anchor at Spithead. Back there, Bolitho had seen disbelief on Mudge's heavy face when he had suggested they might make the voyage in one hundred days.
Herrick said quietly, 'Aye, sir. Since we quit the African coast lady luck came with us for certain.' He grinned broadly.
'You and your lady luck.' But he smiled all the same.
It had seemed much as Herrick had described. Within a few days of leaving the land, the dead and dying far astern, the wind had risen from the south-west, the fringe of the monsoon which on this occasion had acted as a friend. Day after day, with all sail set, Undine had bounded along, freely, recklessly, her forecastle never clear of bursting spray, while dolphins and other strange fish had stayed close in company. It was just as if that terrible confrontation with the war canoes, seeing the seaman being flayed alive, and all else had been one last great challenge.
He glanced up at the gently flapping topsails and forward to the solitary jib, the power barely enough now to carry them into the wide anchorage and between that impressive spread of shipping.
Madras, the most important British station on the south-east coast of another continent. A stepping-stone to advancement elsewhere, to trade and further discovery. Even the names were like fresh challenges. Siam and Malacca, south-east to Java, and beyond to a million unknown islands.
He saw a towering merchantman spreading more sail as she tacked heavily into a pale bank of sea-haze. With her chequered gunports and impeccable sail drill she could have been a manof-war. But she was one of the East India Company's ships, and three months back Bolitho would have given his right arm for just a few of her seamen. Well trained and disciplined, they were far superior to the Navy's companies in many respects. The Company could and did afford better pay and conditions for its people, while the Navy still had to depend on what it could get by other means, and in time of war that usually meant relying on the pressgangs.
Bolitho had often considered the unfairness of the system. One day, perhaps in his own life, he hoped to see the change come. When the Navy could offer the same fair inducements.
The big Indiaman's flag dipped from her peak, and Bolitho heard Keen calling to his signalling party to return the salute.
Then he looked again at his own company, knowing he would not willingly change them now, merely because it would make life easier. Browned by the sun, toughened by hard work and regular drills with sails and weapons, they were a far cry from that motley assortment at Spithead.
He glanced towards the Indiaman and smiled. Perfect or not, she had had to dip her flag to a King's ship. His Undine.
Mudge blewhis nose and called, 'Bout five minutes now, sir.'
Bolitho raised his hand and saw the master's mate with the anchor party acknowledge. It was Fowlar. A man who had proved his worth, and his loyalty. Who had already earned promotion whenever an opportunity came.
Captain Bellairs was inspecting his marine drummers, and looking even more like a toy soldier in the blazing sunlight.
Davy and Soames were on the gun deck with their separate divisions, and the ship had never looked better.
He heard voices behind him and turned to see Don Puigserver and Raymond speaking together by the taffrail. Like him, they were probably eager to discover what awaited them here in Madras. Puigserver was surprisingly elegant. His clothing consisted of a lieutenant's dress-coat which had been taken apart and re-fashioned by Mrs. Raymond's maid, aided willingly by Jonas Tait, Undine's sailmaker. Tait had one eye, but was very skilful, even if he was the most villainous looking man aboard. The maid seemed to find him fascinating.
'Well, Captain, you must be pleased with yourself today?'
Mrs. Raymond stepped from the cabin hatch and crossed to his side. She walked easily, so used had she become to Undine's motions and behaviour in every sort of sea. She, too, had altered. Still aloof for much of the time, yet lacking the old veil of disinterest in shipboard life which had first irritated Bolitho. Her large stock of personal delicacies which had come aboard at Santa Cruz had long been consumed, and yet she had taken to the cabin's simple fare with little complaint.
'I am, ma'am.' He pointed towards the bows. 'You will soon be able to shed the smells and sounds of a small frigate. I have no doubt that an English lady reigns like a queen out here.'
'Perhaps.' She turned her head as if to watch her husband. 'I hope to see you when you come ashore. Here, after all, you are king?' She laughed lightly. 'In many ways I am sorry to leave the ship.'
Bolitho watched her thoughtfully. He remembered when he had arrived aboard after the running battle with the canoes. Spent, almost asleep on his feet as weariness replaced the will to fight, and memory pushed aside his immediate relief at his own survival. She had guided him to a chair, rapping out orders to her maid, to a startled Noddall, and even to Allday as she had taken charge. She had told someone to fetch the surgeon, but when Bolitho had said harsly, 'I'm not hurt! The ball hit my damned watch!', she had thrown back her head and laughed. The unexpected reaction had angered him, then as she had gripped his hand, quite unable to stop her laughter, he had found himself joining in. Perhaps that, more than anything else, had steadied him, had released all the anxiety he had been forced to conceal until that moment.
Some of it must have shown on his face as he remembered, for she said softly, 'Can I share them?'
'My thoughts?' He smiled awkwardly. 'I was thinking of something. My watch.'
He saw her lip begin to tremble again, and wondered why he had not noticed the fine shape of her chin and throat. Until now. When it was too late. He felt himself flushing. For what?
She nodded. 'It was cruel to laugh so. But you looked-so angry, when anyone but you would have been grateful.'
She turned her face away as Herrick called, 'Ready, sir!V
'Carry on, Mr. Herrick.'
'Aye, sir.' But his eyes were on the woman. Then he. hurried to the rail yelling, 'Man the lee braces! Hands wear ship!'
Undine swung easily into the wind, her anchor splashing down into water so blue it looked like satin.
