understanding.
By the end of the month Herrick took him on a tour of inspection of the ship, and Bolitho shared some of his well-justified satisfaction. Under the hands of his craftsmen, the cunning uses of wood and tar, paint and hemp, Tempest showed little sign of the terrible moment when she had been snared and mauled in Tuke’s well-laid trap.
Later he reported as much to Raymond, who for once had little complaint to make, nor did he offer his usual comparison with the efficient de Barras.
Instead he said, “I am uneasy about the brig from England.”
“It is common enough to be delayed, sir. It is a demanding passage around the Horn.”
Raymond did not seem to bear him. “I feel deaf and blind here. I get no messages from Sydney, and nobody brings me the support I need if I am to make anything of this place.”
Bolitho watched him guardedly. So that was it. Raymond was feeling left out, abandoned, as he himself had done more than once over the past years.
He was saying, “I do not want another Eurotas incident. Nor do I want another anything until I am ready here. It is as I suspected. I am always learning how misguided I have been to trust others. That damned chief, Hardacre’s friend, for instance. Where is the intelligence he promised, eh? Tuke’s head in exchange for my leniency? My weakness, he thinks, no doubt! And Hardacre, mooning about his affairs like the mad monk himself!” He sank into a chair and stared at a half-empty wine bottle.
Bolitho said, “I understand that the expected brig is the Pigeon, sir?”
“Yes.” He looked at him suspiciously. “What of it?”
“I know her master, or did the last time I heard of her whereabouts. William Tremayne. He comes from my home town. Used to be in one of the Falmouth packets. He’d never allow himself to be hoodwinked by Tuke. When you’ve been master of a packet, had to sail alone through every sort of sea to the ends of the globe, you must learn to fight off everything to stay alive.”
Raymond shifted uneasily. “I hope you are correct about him.”
“I would like to take my ship and patrol to the sou’-east of the group, sir.”
“No.” Raymond glared at him. “I need your presence here. When I have heard from de Barras, or the brig, I will know what to do. Until then, I will trouble you to continue with your work.”
He said it so vehemently that Bolitho wondered what else was worrying him.
“Suppose, for instance, the King of Spain has not withdrawn his claims to possessions and trading facilities, eh? For all we know there might be six Spanish sail-of-the-line sweeping right through these waters!” He shook his head. “No. You’ll remain at anchor.”
Bolitho left the room. If only there was some way of getting word to Commodore Sayer in Sydney, not that he could do much. It was strange when you thought about it. Three ships, the Hebrus, Sayer’s elderly sixty-four, Tempest, and now the overdue brig Pigeon. As unmatched as any vessels could be, and yet each of their senior officers was a Cornishman, and each was known to the other.
As he reached the pier he saw Hardacre striding from his schooner.
“Good. You’d better come, too.” He sounded troubled. Angry. “Tinah has news. Of the pirates and that other bloody madman, de Barras.”
Once more in Raymond’s room Hardacre exploded. “Did you know that de Barras has been amongst the islands in the north, acting like Caesar! Canoes have been fired on, and the whole area is smouldering like a tinder-barrel! In God’s name, what were you thinking of to leave him the field, to do as he pleases?”
“Control yourself!” Raymond sounded startled nevertheless. “How did you hear of all this?”
“At least I am still trusted by some of them!” His massive chest heaved painfully. “The chief sent word. Tuke’s anchorage is at Rutara.” He jerked his head towards the ceiling. “The sacred island.” He looked at Bolitho. “Do you know it?”
“Only from sparse detail.”
“Aye.” Hardacre strode this way and that, his hands clasped as if in prayer. “It is a harsh place, without much water apart from rain pools. Just the sort of hole that a man like Tuke would use for a short while.” He sounded worried. “No native would dare land there.”
Raymond licked his lips. “Well, that is good news, surely, if we can trust on it.”
“Trust?” Hardacre looked at him with unmasked contempt. “It has cost Tinah several of his men to get it, and will probably turn some of the other islands against him for helping you. ”
Raymond looked down at the table, his fingers drumming on it, loud in the sudden silence.
“De Barras will anchor off North Island after he has carried out his search. You can send your schooner to him forthwith. I will write a despatch for his immediate attention.”
“She is the only vessel I have here at my disposal!”
“That is not my affair. This is.” Raymond eyed him coldly. “I can commandeer the schooner, you know?”
Hardacre turned to the door. Beaten. “I will see the master. Now.” He slammed the door.
Raymond breathed out very slowly. “Well, Captain. Moments ago we were in the dark. Now, if it is to be believed, the news sounds promising. Very.” He gave a thin smile. “Perhaps it is as well that the role of Tuke’s executioner falls to the French. If there are repercussions in high places, we are in a stronger position.”
“I would like to go too, sir. If not instead of, then with de Barras.”
“You think he will be unable to deal with Tuke? Because of your own rough handling, is that it?” His smile broadened. “Really, you disappoint me to show your pique so openly!”
“It is none of those things, sir.” He looked away, seeing the man dangling from Narval’s stern, dying as he had watched. “Two ships would be better than one. I respect Tuke’s cunning, just as I mistrust de Barras’s ability to contain his own brutality. These islands could become a battleground because of him!”
“You had your chance, Captain Bolitho. The objectives are clearer cut now, and I think de Barras will be eager to fulfil my requirements when he reads the despatch I will send to him.”
“More promises?”
Raymond ignored it. “See that you are in readiness to weigh anchor when I need you. The trap is closing around the pirate, but we still have our work to do here. If only that damned brig would come!”
As Bolitho turned to leave Raymond added casually, “The Eurotas. What is your, er, report on her?”
Bolitho paused. “She is guarded by her own people, and my boats pull round her after dark.”
“I would have been displeased to hear the contrary.” Raymond tapped the table again. “No, I was referring to her readiness for sea.”
“As ordered.” Bolitho watched him, trying to see through his prim severity. “As ready as my own command.”
“Good. That helps me to plan.”
Bolitho returned to the pier and watched his gig pulling towards him. Raymond’s attitude over the transport was a mystery. Eurotas had no master, and a depleted company. If Raymond imagined she could be used beyond an extreme emergency he was going to be disappointed. Unless… He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Unless he intended to transfer his papers and plans on board her and leave the settlement to Hardacre. Could it be he was inwardly afraid of the unseen events? I feel deaf and blind here. Sailors were used to relying on their own meagre resources, but perhaps men like Raymond, trained and educated to ways of Parliament and government, could not survive without news and guidance.
Bolitho awoke violently from a heavy sleep, fighting aside his sheet as he tried to discover what had disturbed him. Then he saw a pair of eyes glowing in the gloom like pale lamps, and he remembered that Orlando, the giant Negro, had been given the chance of acting as his servant. It had apparently been Allday’s idea soon after Noddall’s death, and as he was still going about his new duties, Bolitho assumed his coxswain was satisfied. Although with the amount of cursing and blaspheming he had heard, he might have expected otherwise.
“What is it, man?”
He struggled to sit up, his practised mind taking in that the cot was steady and unmoving, and only the normal sounds of a vessel at anchor penetrated the cabin. It was stuffy, almost airless, and the effort of moving made the sweat trickle across his bare skin.
Orlando bobbed his head and dragged Bolitho’s sheet from the cot, bowing to feel for his shoes.
Allday loomed through the darkness. “Boat alongside, Captain.” He peered at the Negro. “Mr Raymond wants you ashore. The master of the Pigeon is with him, it seems.”
