fortunate.
He thought again of Herrick, and prayed he would get his boat away when the schooner was set upon her final course to destruction. Strange companions he had, too. Puigserver, and the frightened sailmaker from Bristol, finding courage from somewhere to sail back to that place which had broken his mind and body.
'Captain, sir!'
He quickened his pace as Keen's voice came down the next ladder.
'What is it?'
But as he gripped the ladder and turned his face towards the sky's faint rectangle he knew the answer. Slow, heavy drops of rain were falling across the hatchway, like small pebbles dropped from the yards as they tapped on planking or bounced across the gangways.
He dragged himself up the last few steps and hurried aft to the quarterdeck. He was within a few feet of it when the clouds opened and the rain came down in a great roaring, deafening torrent.
He yelled above the deluge, 'How is the wind now?'
Mudge was cringing by the binnacle, his hat awry in the fury of the downpour.
'Veerin', sir! Far as I can tell!'
Water hissed and gurgled down decks and scuppers, and the chilled gun crews pressed beneath the gangways and cowered behind the sealed ports to escape the torrential rain.
Bolitho felt Allday trying to throw the tarpaulin coat over his shoulders, but pushed him away. He was already soaked to the marrow, hair plastered over his forehead, his mind ringing to the din of rain and spray. Yet through it all he managed to keep contact with the ship and her affairs. The deck felt steady enough, despite the angry downpour, and above his head he managed to make out the maintopsail's shape flapping and shining wetly as the wind eased round still further.
He snapped, 'Hands to the braces, Mr. Davy! We will be full and bye directly!' He heard the men groping and cursing as they lurched to obey the orders, the protesting squeak of swollen cordage being hauled through blocks while yards were trimmed to hold the ship on her larboard tack. He called, 'Bring her up a point!'
Men slithered around the big double wheel, and he saw Carwithen punch one of the helmsmen as he bowed under the sheeting rain.
'Nor' by west, sir. Full an' bye she is!'
'Hold her so!'
Bolitho mopped his face with his sleeve:/The probing downpour helped to clear his aching mind, to make him accept what was happening. If the wind continued to veer, even if it stayed where it was, Herrick would be unable to place his schooner in position where he could destroy Muljadi's battery. The disastrous change of wind made the rain feel like tears. Tears for all their hopes, their pathetic determination, which minutes ago had made even the impossible seem undaunting.
He lurched to Mudge's side and shouted, 'How far now, d'you reckon?'
'Four or five mile, no more, sir.' Mudge was staring at the rain with dismay. 'This lot'll pass over quick enough. But then…' He shrugged.
Bolitho looked away. He knew well enough. A rising wind was most likely once the sun appeared. A wind which would do no service to Herrick, and keep Le Chaumareys in the safety of his anchorage. Undine would be helpless. She would be made to stay offshore until the enemy's double strength was prepared and ready to fight on their terms. Or they could turn and run for Pendang Bay with nothing to offer but a final warning.
Davy shouted, 'By God, life is hard!'
Mudge glared at him. 'Life's a bloody rear-guard action, Mr. Davy, from the day you're born!'
Bolitho swung round to silence both of them and then saw that the master's mate's face was clearer than before. He could even see Carwithen scowling at the same luckless helmsman. The dawn was forcing itself to be taken notice of.
He felt the blood racing in his head as he snapped, 'We will attack as before! Pass the word to all hands!'
Davy gaped at him. 'Without destroying the battery, sir?'
'It might not have worked anyway.' He tried to sound calm. 'The enemy will be listening to the rain and thanking God for being at anchor.' He added harshly, 'Are you deaf, man? Tell Mr. Soames to prepare for loading, once the rain is passed!'
Davy nodded jerkily and hurried to the rail.
Captain Bellairs strode to Bolitho's side and remarked coolly, 'Damn risky thing, sir, if you'll pardon my sayin' so.'
Bolitho felt his shoulders beginning to sag under the rain, the sudden spark deserting him.
'What wouldyou have me do?'
Bellairs turned up his collar and pouted,
Bolitho nodded heavily. 'No argument there.'
'Deck there! Land ho!'
Bolitho walked stiffly to the lee side, his shoes squeaking on the puddled deck. A darker blur, reaching out on either bow, deceptively gentle in the feeble light.
A voice said, 'Rain's goin'.' He sounded surprised.
As if to mark its passing, the dripping forecourse lifted and boomed dully to receive a fresher gust of wind. It made Bolitho shiver and grit his teeth.
'Tell Mr. Soames. Load, and prepare to run out when I pass the word.'
He looked around for Keen. 'Run up the Colours, if you please.'
Another voice muttered, 'No chance, mates. They'll do for the lot of us.'
Bolitho heard the halliards squeaking as the ensign dashed up to the peak and broke out to the wind, unseen as yet in the clinging darkness.
'As soon as it is light enough, Mr. Keen, have your party make a signal to the schooner. Discontinue the action. Mr. Herrick can stand off and retrieve our boats.'
Keen said, 'Aye, aye, sir, I'll see to it when-'
He turned angrily as a voice murmured from the shadows, 'Pick up our bloody corpses, more's the like!'
Keen shouted, 'Keep silence there! Master-at-arms, take that man's name!'
Bolitho said quietly, 'Easy. If it helps them to curse, then let it be so.'
Keen faced him, his fists doubled at his sides. 'But it's not fair, sir. It's not your doing.'
Bolitho smiled gravely. 'Thank you, Mr. Keen.'
He recalled with sudden clarity his lieutenant in his first command, the little sloop Sparrow. An American colonist, he had endured the worst of the war, serving his King, but fighting his own kind at the same time. What would he have replied? I ain't so sure. Bolitho could almost hear him, as if he was present at this very moment.
He turned quickly to starboard, seeing the glowing rim of sunlight as it probed above the bare horizon. Very soon now.
He discovered he was dreading the daylight, that which would lay them naked under the guns as they drove into the narrow channel where he had met Le Chaumareys.
Bolitho heard a step behind him and Aliday's voice. Firm, unruffled. 'Better go below and get out of those wet things, Captain.'
He swung towards him, his voice cracking with strain. 'Do you think I have nothing else to do?'
The coxswain regarded him stubbornly. 'Not just yet, you haven't.' He added in the same flat tone, 'You remember the Saintes, Captain?' He did not wait for an answer. 'It was a bad time. All those Frogs, the sea abounding with their damned ships until it was nigh on bursting. I recalls it well. I was right forrard on one of the carronades. The lads were all quaking with fright at what was to come. Then I looked aft and saw you pacing the quarterdeck, like you were going to church instead of to hell.'
Bolitho stared at him, his mind suddenly steady. 'I remember.'
Allday nodded slowly. 'Aye. You wore your best uniform.' Bolitho looked past him, recalling another voice. His coxswain who had died that day. They'll want to seeyou.
He replied quietly, 'Very well. But if I'm called…' Allday gave a slow smile. 'Immediately, Captain.'
Mudge said hoarsely, 'That was fool advice, man! The cap'n'll make a fine target for sharpshooters in 'is gold
