had been sent to lend authority to yet another governor. Often he had sweated at the thought of those possibilities. A door being flung open, her face and shoulders pale as he tried to hide her from her husband. But nobody had come to break their passions, and the ache of losing her was even harder to accept.
He felt anger, too. What could James Raymond be thinking of to drag her out here again? European women found the climate cruel and demanding, and for Raymond there was no such need. His fine house, his authority, all he had gained at others’ expense would have made it easy to leave her in security and comfort amongst people and customs she understood.
There was a rap at the door and Borlase peered through the screen, his face less mild than usual.
“I was wondering if I might speak with you, sir.” He looked quickly at Allday. “But if it is inconvenient…”
Bolitho gestured to Allday, and as he left the cabin said, “Be brief, Mr Borlase. I intend to exercise the twelve- pounders before noon.”
He knew why the lieutenant was here; that too depressed him.
Borlase licked his lips. “I had occasion to log a seaman, sir.”
“Peterson. I know.”
He saw the merest flicker of surprise before Borlase hurried on, “I see, sir. But I intended that Mr Herrick should award punishment. Peterson was defiant and insolent to his superior, and twelve lashes, at the very least, should be his just deserts!”
The speech had brought a flush to his cheeks. Like a petulant but triumphant child who has found a weakness in authority, Bolitho thought.
He answered quietly, “The bosun’s mate who was defied was Schultz, is that so?” He did not wait for an answer but continued in the same level voice, “He is an excellent seaman, and we are lucky to have him. But,” the word hung in the air, “less than two years back he could speak no tongue but his native German. What language he has mastered is made up of sailors’ talk and slang, the commands needed to obey and instruct others.”
Borlase stared at him blankly. “I don’t see…”
“Had you bothered to investigate this matter”-Bolitho could feel his anger mounting, despite his care to control it. Why were men like Borlase never able to learn from mistakes and to accept the lessons?-“you would have treated the incident with a minimum of fuss. I believe that Peterson was slow to respond to an order, and Schultz shouted that he were better on a gallows than on the main yard?” He waited, seeing Borlase’s fingers opening and closing like claws. “Well?”
“Yes, sir. Something like that. Then Peterson called Schultz a pig and a heartless devil.” Borlase nodded firmly. “It was then that I ordered him to be taken below.”
Bolitho locked his fingers behind his head. He felt the sweat trickling down his chest and armpits, the shirt, newly washed and fresh on today, clinging like a wet shroud.
Maybe this was what had occurred in the missing Bounty, or aboard the Eurotas. Men tormented by climate and unceasing work taken off guard by some stupid remark made without real thought. The rest could explode like a powder cask.
He said, “Peterson’s father was hanged at Exeter for murder and theft. But he was wrongly identified, and the real murderer was caught and executed a year later.” His tone hardened. “But not before Peterson’s mother and family had been driven from their home by the dead man’s friends. They received a pardon, but it was somewhat late.” He saw Borlase pale and added, “I do not blame Schultz, because his language is limited. I cannot blame Peterson either. The very mention of a gibbet, the suggestion, no matter how casually made, that he were better use hanging from one, would drive me to rage!”
Borlase muttered haltingly, “I am sorry, sir. I did not know.”
“Which is why I blame you. That man is in your division and was of your watch. I knew, so did the first lieutenant. I trust that you will do something, and soon, to restore his respect. Something you have to earn, Mr Borlase, it does not come with the King’s coat!”
Borlase turned about and left the cabin, and for several moments Bolitho remained quite still in his chair, letting the sea noises intrude again to cover the fierce beats of his heart.
Allday said, “That was a rare quilting, Captain!”
“I told you to leave the cabin!” He stood up, furious with himself for losing his temper, and with Allday for his calm acceptance of it.
“But I did, Captain!” Allday kept his face stiff. “I thought you were calling me aft again.”
Bolitho gave in. “Was it that loud?”
Allday grinned. “I’ve heard worse, but I guessed you had pressing matters on your mind, and might wish to be reminded of them.”
“Thank you.” He felt his mouth giving way to a smile. “And damn you for your insolence.”
The coxswain took down Bolitho’s old sword from the bulkhead and rubbed it against his shirt.
“I think I’ll give it a polish, Captain. Might bring us fortune.”
Bolitho looked up at the open skylight as bare feet pounded over the deck and he heard the sudden squeal of blocks, the boom of canvas. The watch on deck was trimming the sails and resetting the yards again. The wind getting up? A change of direction?
He left the chair and walked swiftly through the day cabin to the outer door.
Keen was still in charge of the watch, and was as competent and reliable as any young officer could be. But Bolitho knew his one weakness. That Keen would rather die than call his captain to aid him if the wind began to change. He also understood why Keen was so unwilling, and the knowledge had so far prevented him from warning the lieutenant of the danger which delayed action could bring.
He reached the quarterdeck and saw the hands at the braces and the yards trimmed to take a slight alteration in the wind’s direction.
Starling, master’s mate-of-the-watch, touched his forehead and reported, “Wind’s backed a mite, sir. An’ ’tis risen, too.”
His voice was extra loud, and Bolitho guessed he was warning his lieutenant that the captain was about.
Bolitho consulted the compass and the set of the sails. They were hard and filling well. They might gain another knot for a few hours, with any luck.
Keen hurried in from the quarterdeck rail, his face anxious.
Bolitho nodded impassively. “We will call the hands to exercise the main armament in an hour’s time, Mr Keen.” He saw the surprise and the relief on Keen’s face. “Something wrong?”
Keen swallowed hard. “N-no, sir. Nothing. I just thought…” He broke off.
Bolitho turned aft to the poop. Keen would never make a good liar.
Keen watched him walk to the comparative seclusion of the stern and then whispered fiercely, “Did he say anything, Mr Starling?”
The master’s mate eyed him cheerfully. Like most of the others he liked Keen. Many, once raised to the rank of lieutenant, thought themselves too proud to speak with mere sailormen.
He replied, “I think ’e just wanted you to know ’e was there, sir. In case you needed ’im like.” He showed his teeth. “But o’ course, we didn’t, did we, sir?” He walked away chuckling to himself, and to supervise the flaking down of disordered halliards.
Keen thrust his hands behind him as he had seen Bolitho do so often and began to pace the deck, ignoring the heat and the thirst which was making his mouth like clay. It was difficult to fathom the captain sometimes. To know if he was sharing something with you or holding it to himself for his own amusement.
Keen had heard his voice through the cabin skylight, although he had not known what was said. But Bolitho’s tone, and Borlase’s face when he had appeared on deck, had told him far more.
It never stopped for a captain. Never. He saw Allday walking along the gundeck carrying the sword under his arm. He could almost envy him his confidences with the captain. More even than Herrick he seemed to be the one who really shared them.
He swung round, startled, as Bolitho called from the taffrail, “Mr Keen, I fully realize your intention to keep your body in a healthy condition by walking back and forth under the sun, but would you please exercise your mind also and send some hands to the fore-tops’l brace. It too needs your urgent attention.”
Keen nodded and hurried to the rail.
No matter what other problems might be on the captain’s thoughts his eyes were in no way affected.
