this island is a dismal place. If you come to Bilbao.' He kissed his fingertips. 'Then I will show you how to live, eh?' He laughed at Raymond's grim features. 'And I suspect we will all know ourselves much better after this voyage is done!'
The Spanish aides bowed politely as Puigserver walked to the door, and he called, 'We will meet before we sail.' He turned away. 'But tomorrow we raise our anchors, come what may.'
Raymond walked round the table as the babble of conversation broke out again. He whispered fiercely, 'That damned fellow! One more day with him and I would have told him a thing or two!'
Bolitho asked, 'In which vessel will you be sailing? Mine is a fine ship, but smaller by far than the Spaniard.'
Raymond twisted round to watch the Spanish captain who was discussing something with his companions in a low voice.
'Sail in the Nervion? If your ship were a damned collier brig I'd take her in preference!'
Davy whispered, 'I think they expect us to leave, sir.'
Raymond scowled. 'I will come to your ship and arrange things there. Where no ears listen even to one's breathing!'
Bolitho saw his escort waiting outside the door and smiled to himself. Raymond seemed to have a very vital role in things. Tact, however, was beyond him.
They returned to the jetty with hardly a word, but Bolitho was very conscious of the tension within the man Raymond. On a knife edge. Tortured by something. His work was overreaching him perhaps.
As the scarlet-coated oarsmen propelled the Governor's barge towards Undine Bolitho felt a sense of relief. A ship he could understand. Raymond's life was as alien as the moon.
Raymond clambered up from the barge and stared vaguely at the assembled side-party, at the comings and goings of Undine's seamen as they worked the tackles on the opposite side. Casks and nets of fruit, and straw hats to protect the unwary from sunburn.
Bolitho nodded to Herrick. 'All well?' He touched Raymond's arm. 'Mr. Raymond will be a passenger with us.' He turned sharply as he heard a shrill of laughter from the cabin hatch.
'Who let that woman on board? In God's name, Mr. Herrick, this is not the Nore or Portsmouth Point!'
Then he saw the girl. Small and dark, in a bright red dress, she was talking to Allday, who was obviously enjoying himself.
Raymond said heavily, 'I had hoped to explain _earlier, Captain. That girl is a maid-servant. My wife's maid.' He looked as if he was going to be sick.
Herrick tried to dispel Bolitho's sudden anger. 'She came out with her lady just an hour back, sir. She had authority.' He looked worried. 'I had little choice in the matter.'
'I see.'
Bolitho strode aft. All those thousands of miles in a small crowded ship-of-war. Raymond was bad enough, but his wife and a maid were too much. He saw some seamen nudging each other. They had probably been waiting just to see his reactions.
Very calmly he said, 'Perhaps you would, er, introduce me, Mr. Raymond?'
They went aft together, and Davy whispered, 'God's teeth, Mr. Herrick, what a mixed gathering we are fast becoming!'
Herrick glared at him. 'And I suppose you have been out there damn well enjoying yourself!'
'A little wine. Some fair company.' He chuckled. 'But I thought, too, of you, sir.'
Herrick grinned. 'To hell with you! Get into your working clothes and help with this loading. You need a million eyes today!'
In the meantime Bolitho had reached his cabin, and stared at it in dismay. There were boxes everywhere, and clothing spilled across furniture and guns, as if there bad been a violent robbery aboard.
Mrs. Raymond was tall, unsmiling, and almost beside herself with anger.
Her husband exclaimed, 'You should have waited, Viola. This is our captain.'
Bolitho bowed slightly. 'Richard Bolitho, ma'am. I had just mentioned that a thirty-two-gun frigate has barely the room for luxury. However, since you have chosen to sail with us, I will do all that I can to-' He got no further.
'Chosen?' Her voice was husky with scorn. 'Please do not delude yourself, Captain. He does not wish me to travel in the Nervion.' Her mouth twisted in contempt. 'He fears for ray safety when I am with Spanish gentlemen!'
Bolitho noticed Noddall hovering anxiously by the dinin compartment and snapped, 'Help Mrs. Raymond's maid to stow all this'-he looked round helplessly-'gear.' He save Raymond slump down on the bench seat like a dying mad. No wonder he looked troubled. 'And pass the word for the first lieutenant.' He glanced around the cabin, speaking his thoughts aloud. 'We will have these twelve-pounders removed temporarily and put quakers in their place. That will allow a little more room.'
Raymond looked up dully. 'Quakers?'
'Wooden muzzles. They give an appearance that we are still fully armed.' He forced a smile. 'Quakers having an opposition to war.'
Herrick appeared by the door. 'Sir?'
'We will rig extra screens here, Mr. Herrick. A larger sleeping compartment for our passengers. To larboard, I think.'
Mrs. Raymond said calmly, 'For me and my maid, if you please.' She looked at her husband. 'He will bed elsewhere on this ship.'
Herrick studied her curiously but said, 'Mr. Raymond to starboard then. And what about you, sir?'
Bolitho sighed. 'Chart space.' He looked at the others. 'We will dine together here, if you agree.'
Nobody answered.
Midshipman Keen hovered by the door, his eyes on the woman.
'Mr. Soames's respects, sir, and the captain of Nervion is about to board, us.'
Bolitho swung round and then. gasped as his shin cracked against a heavy chest.
He said between his teeth, 'I will endeavour to be hospitable, Mr. Herrick!'
Herrick kept his face blank. 'I am certain of it, sir.'
It was early morning by the time Bolitho had pulled himself wearily into his cot, his mind still reeling from entertaining Capitan Triarte and some of his officers. He had been made to go across to the Nervion where the captain had again made a point of comparing the spacious comfort with Undine's overcrowded quarters. It had not helped at all. Now the ship lay quiet again, and he tried to picture Mrs. Raymond who was sleeping beyond the newly-rigged screen. He had seen her in the cabin when the Spanish officers had come aboard. Aloof yet tempting, with little to reveal her true feelings for her husband. A dangerous woman to cross, he thought.
How still the ship felt. Perhaps, like himself, everyone was too weary to move. Guns had been trundled away and lowered with difficulty into the holds. More stores and heavy gear had had to be swayed aft to readjust the trim once again. It was surprising how much larger the cabin looked without the guns there.
He groaned as his head found some new ache to offer him. He would not see much of it though. He turned his face to the pillow, the sweat running across his chest with the effort. One thing was certain. He had rarely had better incentive for a fast passage.
He was up and about at first light, eager to get his work done before the heat of the day made thinking more difficult. In the afternoon, to the distant strains of a military band and the cheers of a crowd along the waterfront, Undine weighed anchor, and with Nervion in the lead, her great foresail displaying a resplendent cross of scarlet and gold, worked clear of the roads before setting more canvas to the wind.
Some small craft followed them across the glittering water, but were soon outpaced by the graceful frigates. By dusk they had the sea to themselves, with only the stars for company.
4. Death of a Ship
Ezekiel Mudge, Undine's sailing master, sat comfortably in one of Bolitho's chairs and peered at the chart which
