Bolitho strode across the deck and held out both hands. 'Thomas 1' He gripped Herrick's hands in his, oblivious to the watching faces on every side. 'IT don't know what to sayl'
Herrick smiled sadly. 'I am the same, sir.'
'You should remain below until '
'Deck there! Ship to the east'rdt'
Herrick withdrew his hands and replied quietly, 'I am the first lieutenant, sir.' He looked slowly around the quarterdeck, at the protruding splinters and the flapping edges of torn hammocks where musket balls had ripped home. 'My place is here.'
Davy crossed the deck,and touched his hat. 'Beat to quarters again, sir?'
'Yes.'
Davy looked at Herrick and smiled. 'It seems you had no better luck in holding on to the schooner than I.' He added, 'I am relieved you are here, and that's the truth.'
Herrick touched the fresh bandage on his head and winced. 'If it had not been sworn otherwise, I would have said that Don Puigserver struck me down himself. He was that eager to finish what we had begun.'
He fell silent as the drums rattled out their tattoo and the lolling figures by guns and braces stirred themselves into life.
Bolitho was watching the last shoulder of land sliding away, the expanse of blue water and lively wavecrests growing and spreading to reveal an endless, dazzling horizon.
To larboard, her hull and spars black against the glare, lay the Argus. She appeared to be moving very slowly, her yards well braced to hold her on a converging tack.
Herrick muttered, 'Four miles, I'd say.'
'About that.'
Bolitho studied the. other ship, unable to look away. She reminded him of a wild cat, the way she edged across the busy, white-capped waves. Stealthy, purposeful. Lethal.
He imagined he could hear the squeak of trucks as her smooth sides became barbed by gun muzzles. Le Chaumareys was taking his time. Waiting for Bolitho to make the first move.
He looked away at last, feeling the tension returning, but heavier than before. Perhaps Le Chaumareys had planned it this way, distrusting his ally Muljadi, guessing that Bolitho might bring off a stalemate, if not a victory, if he chose his own method of attack.
The Undine's company had fought hard. He looked searchingly at the shot holes and punctured sails, heard the hammers as Pryke, the portly carpenter, and his mates got busy on repairs in the lower hull, and knew it was asking much of them to fight yet again, and to win against this great, black-hulled veteran of the French navy.
Then he glanced at those nearest him. He needed every bit of skill and experience they possessed, not least their courage.
'Well, Mr. Mudge, what of the wind now?'
'It'll get up, sir.' Mudge took out his handkerchief and blew his great nose violently. 'Might back a bit.' He gestured up at the masthead pendant. It was stiff, like a spear. 'I'd suggest, beggin' yer pardon, sir, that you fights under topsails only.'
Bolitho turned to Herrick. 'What do you say?'
Herrick was watching the other ship, his eyes like slits. 'Get to grips, sir. He'll pound us to pieces with those long guns otherwise.'
The deck lifted across the first true roller, and spray drifted high above the nettings.
'Let's be about it then.' Bolitho licked his parched lips. 'Get the forecourse off her.' He dropped his voice. 'And have those corpses buried directly. It does no good to see where some of us will end this morning.'
Herrick watched him calmly. 'I can think of better reasons for dying.' He glanced at the motionless seamen by the guns. 'But no better place for it.'
Bolitho walked to the rail and watched the Argus for several minutes. Le Chaumareys had a good position. He had probably considered it very carefully. He was over there now, watching him, expecting him to act. To try and take the wind-gage, or to alter course and attempt to cross his stern and cripple him with one good broadside as he passed.
The French frigate dipped to the swell, showing her copper for several seconds. The wind was tight across her exposed side, but Le Chaumareys was holding back, keeping on Undine's larboard bow, barely making headway.
Bolitho bit his lip, his eyes running in the sun's fierce stare. His men would find it hard to shoot well into the blinding sunlight.
When he looked at the gun deck again he saw that corpses were gone.
Herrick came aft and said, 'All done.'
He saw Bolitho's intent features and asked quietly, 'Is something wrong, sir?'
'I think I am starting to understand Le Chaumareys.' He could feel his heart beginning to pound again, the familiar chill at his neck and spine. 'I think he wants us to have the windgage.'
'But, sir…' Herrick's blue eyes darted to the Argus and back again. 'Is the sun in our eyes of greater value to him?' Understanding spread across his round face. 'It might well be. He can stand off and use his heavy artillery to better result.'
Bolitho turned, his eyes flashing. 'Well, it's not to be, Mr. Herrick! Get the t'gallants on her directly!' He added, 'I am sorry, Mr. Mudge, but if we lose the sticks out of her to your damned wind it may be better than losing them the other way!'
Herrick was already raising his speaking trumpet. 'Hands aloft! Loose t'ga'n's'ls!'When he looked at Bolitho again there was little to show what he had so recently endured. 'By God, sir, what we miss in weight we can show that bastard in agility today!'
Bolitho grinned at him, his lips painful. 'Alter course two
points to starboard. We'll run for his bows.'
Allday folded his arms and watched Bolitho's shoulders, and then glanced up at the flag as it rippled in the freshening wind.
'And that is all the running you'll be doing, I'm thinking.'
'East nor'-east, sir!' Carwithen had one hand resting on the polished spokes as the helmsmen concentrated on the compass and the set of the sails overhead. 'Steady as she goes!'
Mudge rubbed his hands on his coat. 'She's movin' well, sir.'
Bolitho lowered his telescope and nodded thoughtfully. The extra power of the topgallants was laying Undine firmly in line across the other ship's path. Argus had not set any additional sail. Yet. He winced as the sunlight lanced down from the lens. Le Chaumareys still held the best position. He could alter course to lee'rd and present his broadside as Undine tried to pass him. Equally, he could allow her to cross his bows, and while she lost time in changing tack, he could take the windgage, sun's glare or not, and attack him from the other side.
Herrick said hoarsely, 'He's holding the same course. He may have let her fall off a point, but there's nothing in it.' He breathed out slowly. 'She makes a fair sight, God rot her!'
Bolitho smiled tightly. Argus had barely changed her bearing, but that was because Undine had altered course to starboard. She was much closer now, a bare two miles, so that he could see her red and yellow figurehead, the purposeful movement of figures about her sloping quarterdeck.
There was a sudden bang, and seconds later a thin waterspout rose lazily amongst the tossing wavecrests, slightly ahead of Undine's path, and half a cable short. Ranging shot, or merely to unnerve Undine's own gun crew. Another of Le Chaumareys' little ruses.
Herrick muttered fervently, 'If I know the Frogs, he'll try and dismast us with chain-shot and langridge. Another prize for his bloody ally!P
'You don't know this Frenchman, Mr. Herrick.' Bolitho recalled Le Chaumareys' face when he had spoken of home, his France which he had been denied for so long. 'My guess is he'll want a complete victory.'
The word made him feel uneasy. He could even picture Undine dismasted and wallowing amongst her own dead and dying before her final plunge. Like the one he himself had just destroyed. Like Nervion, and so many he had watched crumble and perish.
The stage was set. Two ships, with not even a seabird to watch their manoeuvres, their dedicated efforts to outwit each other.