clear the rocks.”
Bolitho nodded. “Hoist his recall at once.”
The man knuckled his forehead. “An’ the cutter is in sight too, sir.”
Bolitho tried to keep his face impassive as he examined his actions, seeing his men in their various roles at this moment.
“Mr Starling had best remain where he is. We may need more soundings directly.” He looked at Swift. “Signal the cutter to that effect.”
Prideaux’s marines were on the Eurotas’s upper deck now, their coats like droplets of blood on the gangway. Bolitho trained the glass and tried to keep the scene steady as his ship wallowed heavily in the swell. Then he forgot Herrick and everyone else as he saw some women right aft by the poop. One in particular, with long, autumn hair, holding a broad-brimmed straw hat with her hand as it caught the wind. Viola. He almost spoke her name aloud. She was there, across the strip of restless water, her dress the colour of fresh cream, as she stood watching the captain speaking with Keen, while Midshipman Fitzmaurice, arrogant even at that distance, waited a little behind him.
He heard Herrick remark, “I can feel the difference now.”
Then Lakey said, “Aye. We’re in for a blow before another dawn. Sharp and savage it’ll be.”
Herrick must have turned to Allday as he said, “Like some of the girls you’ve known, eh?”
Allday replied, “They were the days, sir.”
Bolitho saw a marine returning to the launch. They were coming back.
He raised the glass again, climbing on to a quarterdeck sixpounder to get a better view as Tempest swung crablike away from the land. He was in time to see Keen shake hands with the ship’s master, and then saw Viola Raymond move a few paces from the other passengers. It was like a silent play. The youthful lieutenant pausing with one foot on the entry port grating, the figure with the broad-brimmed straw hat and cream gown raising one hand to delay his leaving. Between them, like the jilted lover of any melodrama, Eurotas’s captain was looking from one to the other. Then the contact was broken, and Keen climbed down after the rest of his men and the cutter shoved off for the long pull back to their own ship.
Lakey swore as Ross, one of his mates, called, “Wind’s backed, sir! Almost due south, I’d say. If it keeps a’backing we’ll be-”
Lakey snapped, “I know. We’ll be hard-pressed to avoid a lee shore.”
Bolitho knew that all these remarks were for his benefit if not directly put. He was as worried as Lakey about the wind and the dangerous proximity of reefs. But he was also troubled about the Eurotas. Viola’s husband was supposed to be going to some new appointment. Their paths might never cross again. He felt something like panic. He should have gone in the boat himself and ignored his stupid caution. Everything was exactly as Lakey had suggested it would be, and had there been no search ordered by the governor in Sydney, Eurotas would have arrived safe and sound in the end.
It was common enough for ships to be delayed after the wearisome and often hazardous passage around the Horn, and Bolitho suspected that but for her rich cargo no such efforts would have been called for.
Borlase and his boat were tossing and pitching around the stern as Keen’s launch hooked on to the chains, the oarsmen gasping and sweating from a hard pull.
Keen came inboard and hurried aft.
“Well?”
Bolitho watched him, partly wondering what Keen thought of his captain’s strange whims.
Keen took a breath. “As we thought, sir. She was damaged and holed some while back, and put into this bay to complete repairs. I spoke with Captain Lloyd, and he assured me that all is now satisfactory. He thanks you warmly for your support, especially as he was being attacked by some savage natives.” He answered Bolitho’s unasked question. “He had landed most of his artillery to lighten ship while the hull repairs were carried out.”
Herrick nodded. “Makes good sense.”
Keen frowned, trying to miss out nothing. “He did say that if you are returning to Sydney he would be obliged if you would reassure the governor that cargo and convicts are safely on passage.”
Convicts. Bolitho had almost forgotten about them. Again he was reminded of their plight below decks. Transported perhaps forever from their own country, and then, after weeks at sea, to be under siege in an island they did not even know.
He said slowly, “Thank you. Have the launch hoisted inboard and prepare to get under way, if you please.” He looked at the master without seeing him. “Lay a course to take us clear of the north’rd headland. Then which ever way the wind chooses to turn we will have the sea room to use it.”
He turned back to Keen as his ideas were translated into orders and action by the others.
“Was that all?”
Keen glanced at Herrick, but he was already calling the hands to the tackles to hoist the boat and to the braces in readiness for bringing the drifting ship under command again.
He said quietly, “As I was about to leave, sir, the lady, the wife of-”
“Yes, Mr Keen, I do know, please continue.”
“She called out to me. The passengers had been told who was in command of Tempest. She wished to be remembered to you. I think she might have said more, but I was about to take my leave.” He sounded apologetic.
Bolitho smiled gravely. “Did she look well?”
Keen nodded. “Very, sir.” He frowned. “But she did mention something I did not fully understand. Captain Lloyd interrupted her by asking me for information about the missing Bounty.”
Bolitho saw it once again in his mind’s eye. The little cameo. The three figures on Eurotas’s deck.
“Try and remember exactly.”
“Yes, sir.” Keen looked across at the other ship. “I was at the entry port when she called something like, I hope your captain was able to have his watch repaired.” He shrugged helplessly. “Then Captain Lloyd saw me to the side, sir. I am sorry I can tell you nothing more.”
Bolitho looked at him for several seconds. “You told me a great deal.”
He took the watch from his pocket and turned it over between his fingers. She had thought of the one thing which would make him suspicious. He chilled despite the sun as the reality crowded in on him. When his watch had stopped a musket ball it had saved his thigh from a bad wound, but it had been smashed to fragments in the process. She had known it, and had given him this one as a gift to replace it. It was the one thing she would remember.
He asked sharply, “Was Mr Raymond present?”
“Aye, sir. But he remained aft with some of the others.”
“I see.”
Herrick strode from the gangway and said, “Ready to get under way, sir. I have had word passed to Mr Starling of our intentions, and he will proceed ahead of us right away.” He sensed Bolitho’s mood. “Is something wrong?”
“Everything.” Bolitho thrust the watch into his pocket. He felt angry and sick at the same time. To think of her across the water, suffering God knew what torment, and trying to find a way of warning him through Keen.
She would never mention the watch in the presence of her husband. It was their own secret. And in any case, she would not have forgotten the truth of the story.
He said, “Then get under way, Mr Herrick.” He looked up at the masthead pendant. “It’s backed a point more by the look of it. We will try and stand clear of the islands before it gets worse.” He looked at the lieutenant and said simply, “The Eurotas is taken. We must land our people and attack before they know what we are about.”
They stared at him as if he had just gone raving mad.
“But, but…” Herrick floundered for words. “I heard most of what Mr Keen described, sir. I can find no hint of trouble there, especially as we have chased the attackers away.”
“I believe the real enemy is within that ship.” He dropped all formality and stood between them. “You both know about my watch, even though you are careful never to mention it. You both know, and none better than Mr Keen himself, that he was nursed by Viola Raymond after his cruel injury. She was, I believe, very good to you.” He looked at each in turn. “Do you honestly believe she would falsify one fact and omit to mention the other altogether?”
