With All Despatch

of the small detachment of dragoons remained mounted in the road outside the gates.

The door swung inwards noiselessly and Bolitho saw it was Hoblyn's personal footman.

'I must see the commodore.'

The youth glanced beyond the two officers as if he was about to deny that Hoblyn had returned. Bolitho saw his hazel eyes widen with alarm at the sight of the mounted dragoons, then he said, 'I shall take you to him.' He drew back from the steps, then led the way towards that same room.

The major grimaced. 'Like a tomb. Needs a woman's touch.'

The commodore was sitting behind his massive desk but made no attempt to rise as they were ushered in.

Hoblyn said in his clipped fashion, 'Why the urgency? I've much to accomplish. There are not enough hours in the day.'

Bolitho began, 'I sent a report-'

'Did you indeed?' Hoblyn glanced coldly at the major. 'Do you wish to see me too?'

Craven stood firm. 'Captain Bolitho thinks it might be better for all of us if I did, sir.'

'I see.' Hoblyn waved towards two chairs and shuffled some papers on his desk. 'Ah yes, the report. I did see it, I remember now. The fishing boat and the two French luggers.' He looked up suddenly, his eyes hard. 'You moved too hastily, Bolitho. The French will swear you acted unlawfully in their waters. Right or wrong, they will certainly use the incident to endanger peace, something that His Majesty is trying to preserve. He does not wish to antagonise the French, no matter what state their country is in.'

Bolitho retorted, 'I would have thought that His Majesty might have an even greater desire to retain his head on his shoulders!'

Hoblyn snapped, 'That is impertinent! In any case, why should it matter about one fishing boat? Surely you can use your talents to better advantage?' He was becoming angrier by the minute, his maimed hand tapping the desk to emphasise each point.

Bolitho said, 'I believe they were smuggling emigres across the Channel, sir. Human cargo, with no thought for the consequences.' Even as he told Hoblyn about the dead girl he saw the commodore's eyes give just the briefest hint of anxiety.

Then Hoblyn snapped, 'Who will say, one way or the other? It is just your word, Bolitho, which I am afraid will carry little weight in Admiralty.' He leaned forward and stared at him, the major ignored or forgotten. 'They will break you if you persist with this obsession. You know from your own experience in London that there are a hundred captains who would grasp your appointment and be grateful!'

Bolitho replied stubbornly, 'I cannot believe that you think that the tolerance of a crime should be in the same boat as the fear of annoying the French government. If so, then I want no part of it. I will return to London and resign.' He heard the major's boots squeak as he shifted his position in the chair. It was surprising he could hear anything above the pounding of his own heart.

Hoblyn dabbed his brow with his handkerchief. 'Let us not be hasty, Bolitho.'

Bolitho said simply, 'I am asking you, sir, pleading if you will, that you will forget the security of this appointment and use your influence to intervene. It seems that every man's hand is against us here, and the smugglers laugh at our attempts to run them to earth.'

Hoblyn stared at his desk. 'You have so much passion, Bolitho, yet so little trust in authority.'

'I have no cause to be trusting, sir.'

Hoblyn appeared to be wrestling with his innermost thoughts. 'You are quite determined to continue in this fashion, regardless of the hornets' nest you will most surely rouse?'

'I have no choice, sir, but I must have support.'

'Yes.' Hoblyn moved his shoulder as if it was hurting him. 'You may be correct to assume that there is a direct link between the smugglers and the oppression in France. It is certainly true that our prime minister has been urging stronger action against these gangs.' He added bitterly, 'I fear that William Pitt has done precious little to supply the money to enforce the necessary prevention!'

Major Craven murmured, 'Everyone sends for the dragoons, sir.'

Hoblyn gave a deep sigh. 'I will send a despatch to the Admiralty, Bolitho. It will be up to Their Lordships, of course, but I shall explain that I am in favour of a more aggressive policy.'

Bolitho said, 'Thank you, sir.' He hoped that his surprise did not show in his voice. From anger to agreement; it was too sudden, too easy. Not like the captain who had once stormed an enemy privateer with his body ablaze.

Hoblyn pressed his fingertips together and stared at him impassively.

'Draw your three cutters to Sheerness.'

'They are here, sir. Snapdragon left Chatham dockyard in my absence.'

Hoblyn gave a thin smile. 'I hope you can continue to stay ahead of events, Bolitho. There are some who will wish you dead.

I suggest you move ashore as soon as is prudent. I will arrange quarters inside the dockyard here at Sheerness. It will be safer for you.'

The door opened silently and the slim footman stood watching from the hallway. It was as if he could read his master's thoughts.

'Jules will show you out, gentlemen.'

Bolitho and the major got to their feet. Apparently there was to be no wine this time.

Hoblyn said, 'Inform me of your every intention.' He eyed both of them for several seconds. 'My head will not rest on any block because of your personal ambitions!'

The interview was over.

Outside on the cobbles Bolitho said grimly, 'A victory or a reverse, I am uncertain which.'

The soldier frowned. 'Far better than sitting still. It is high time that the authorities understand what we are facing. You need men for the fleet-'

Bolitho saw Young Matthew leading the horse towards him. 'If and when a fleet is refitted in time!'

'Either way, you'll not get the men until you scatter the Brotherhood and lessen their power over ordinary people.'

The major climbed into his saddle and looked down at him.

'I am with you.'

Bolitho smiled. 'Do not forget what I asked of you.'

The soldier grinned. 'I said, I shall try!' Then he cantered from the yard, touching his hat to the sentries as he rejoined his troop on the road.

A good officer, Bolitho thought, and for some reason one he knew he could trust.

At the dockyard they left the horses with a marine, and walked to the jetty where some boats were loitering.

For a moment longer Bolitho stared at the three anchored cutters, riding above their reflections like graceful seabirds. His little brood. Even that reminded him of Allday.

He said to a waterman, 'Take me to Telemachus.'

As the boat moved slowly amongst the anchored vessels Bolitho saw the glint of sunlight on a raised telescope from Wakeful's taffrail. He looked away. It was most likely to be Queely, watching his progress, glad to be rid of him-or was he?

Paice greeted him at the entry port and touched his hat. Bolitho was surprised to see his apparent pleasure.

'I was not certain you would return to us, sir.' He grinned. 'Welcome.'

He waved one big hand around the busy figures on deck. 'You were right, sir. They've all worked so hard together that most of the pain is behind them.'

Bolitho nodded approvingly. Apart from the strong smells of tar and paint, there was virtually nothing to show of the damage.

As he caught the glances of some of the seamen he saw them nod self-consciously, before turning back to their tasks. Like a homecoming.

Paice became serious again. 'No news of your cox'n, sir.'