Bolitho held out his hand. 'May God protect you, Thomas. If I have misjudged this affair, or the enemy outwits us, then pull back at once. If I signal a recall, then abandon your attempt. If die we must, then I want you with me.'
Herrick gripped his hand tightly, his blue eyes suddenly concerned.
'Enough of this talk, sir! It is not like you. Win we must, and here's my hand on it!'
Bolitho followed him towards the door. Hating the moment. Conscious of the weight which he had caused to fall on his own shoulders. She had seen his danger, as had Le Chaumareys. Perhaps Herrick also.
On deck, in the noise and bustle of preparing for sea, the contact was at last broken.
Herrick said, 'I'll go and pick my hands, sir.'
Bolitho nodded, his heart aching. 'Carry on, Mr. Herrick. The second lieutenant will relieve you forthwith.'
As Herrick melted into the shadows Davy crossed the quarterdeck and touched his hat.
Bolitho said, 'I am sorry about your schooner. I seem to have little choice in anything at the moment.'
Davy shrugged. 'It does not seem to matter any more, sir. For once, I cannot see further than the next few days, nor care either.'
Bolitho seized his arm savagely and swung him round. 'Has nothing I said to you made any sense?'
Davy struggled in his fierce grip and blurted out, 'I-I am sorry, sir!'
'You will be if I hear you talking like that again! Your responsibility is to me, the ship and the people you command. Not to your own personal considerations. When a man starts to believe there are no more tomorrows, he is as good as sewn up in a hammock between two round-shot. Think of the tomorrows, believe in them, and the men who depend on your skill, or lack of it, will see their own survival on your face!' He relaxed his hold and added in a steadier tone, 'Now be off with you.'
He began to pace along the larboard side, his feet stepping automatically over ringbolts and gun tackles, although his eyes saw none of them. He had not been reprimanding Davy, but himself. It was no time for doubt or recrimination, but only for living the role he had adopted, had earned in a dozen battles or more.
'Boat ahoyl' The challenge rang out from the gangway where lanterns glinted_on-levelled-muskets-and bayonets.
From the bay itself came the reply, 'Don Luis Puigserver wishes to come aboard!'
Davy came hurrying aft. 'Is that in order, sir?'
Bolitho smiled, calm again. 'I was expecting him, I believe.' The stocky figure rose through the port and hurried across
the deck to greet him.
Puigserver said, 'I had to come, Capitan. Nervion's loss made me a part of this. I cannot withdraw until the matter is settled.' He patted the ornate pistols beneath his coat. 'And I am an excellent shot, no?'
'I could order you to leave, senor.'
'But?' Puigserver tilted his head to one side. 'But you will not. In any case, I have left written word to explain my deeds and my reasons. If we survive the battle, I will tear it to pieces. If not…' He left the rest unsaid.
'Then I accept your offer, senor. With gratitude.'
Puigserver walked to the nettings and stared across at a glittering riding-light. 'When will the schooner set sail?'
'Before dawn. She will need all the time available to work into her position to best advantage.'
Again the ache. The thought of Herrick sailing his floating magazine into the muzzles of Muljadi's battery.
'I see.' Puigserver yawned. 'Then I think I will join your offwatch officers for a glass in the wardroom. You will need your solitude tonight, I am thinking.'
Some hours later Bolitho was awakened by Allday's hand on his shoulder. He had fallen asleep in the cabin, his head on his forearm across the chart where he had been working.
Allday watched him anxiously. 'Schooner's weighed, Captain.'
Bolitho rubbed his eyes. Was it almost dawn? He felt suddenly chilled. Desperate for sleep.
Aliday added quietly, 'Mister Pigsliver's gone, too.'
Bolitho stared at him, wondering if he had expected this. Had known it was what Puigserver had wanted from the moment he had outlined his plan.
'Is she well clear?'
'Aye, Captain.' Allday stretched and yawned. 'Stood round the headland half an hour back.' He added slowly, 'He'll be good company for Mr. Herrick, and that's no error.'
Bolitho looked at him. 'You knew, didn't you?'
'Aye, Captain.' Allday watched him sadly. 'I thought it for the best.'
Bolitho nodded. 'I expect it is.' He walked to the windows as if to see the riding-light still twinkling above the water. 'It is a bad thing to be alone.'
Aliday glanced at the tarnished sword which hung from the bulkhead. For a moment he thought about Bolitho's other coxswain, who had died protecting his back from French marksmen at the Saintes. They had come a long way together since those times, he thought. Soon now, it might all end. He looked at Bolitho's shoulders as he peered through the stern windows.
But you will never be alone, Captain. Not while I've a breath left.
17. Close Action
Bolitho rested his hands on the quarterdeck rail and peered searchingly along his command. In the darkness the decks and gangways made a pale outline against the sea beyond the bows, and only the irregular drift of spray, the swirling white arrowhead from the stem gave any true hint of their progress.
He restrained himself from going aft again to examine his watch by the shaded compass light. Nothing had changed since his last inspection, and he was well aware of the danger of adding to the tension around him.
Three days since they had left the anchorage in Pendang Bay, making good speed with favourable winds for most of the time. They had stood well clear of the land, even the approaches to the little whale-shaped islet, in case Muljadi or Le Chaumareys had thought fit to place another craft there to warn of any unwelcome sail.
The previous evening, just before sunset, they had sighted Herrick's schooner, a tiny dark sliver on the copper- edged horizon, seemingly motionless as she idled to await Undine's arrival at the arranged point of rendezvous. A brief dipping signal from a lantern before both vessels had lost each other again in darkness.
Bolitho shivered, feeling the cool, clammy air exploring his face and throat. The middle watch had only just run its course, and there was still an hour or so before any lightening of the sky could be expected. But overnight, while all hands had worked to prepare the ship for action, the clouds had gathered and thickened, brushing out the stars so that Undine seemed to be sailing remorselessly into a void.
He heard Mudge moving restlessly below the hammock nettings, rubbing his palms together to keep warm. The sailing master seemed unusually preoccupied. Perhaps his rheumatism was troubling him, or like Bolitho, he was thinking of Herrick, somewhere out there on Undine's larboard bow.
Bolitho straightened his back and looked up at the blacker outlines of yards and rigging. The ship was sailing under topsails and jibs, and with only the great forecourse hiding the sea ahead of the bowsprit. It was strange to feel so chilled, when within hours the sun would be back to torment them, to add to whatever else, lay in store.
He asked, 'How is the wind, Mr. Mudge?'
Mudge was glad to break the silence. 'Still sou'-west, sir. By an' large.' He coughed noisily. 'Under most occasions I'd be grateful for that.'
'What are you thinking?'
'Not sure, sir.' Mudge moved away from the seamen waiting by the quarterdeck six-pounders. 'It's too uneven for. my tastes.'
Bolitho turned to peer forward again. The big forecourse seemed to echo Mudge's doubts. Undine was steering almost due north, and with the wind coming across her quarter she should have been making easy-going of it. But she was not. The forecourse would billow and harden, making the stars and shrouds hum and vibrate, holding the ship firm for several minutes. Then it would flap and bang in disorder before falling almost limp against the foremast
