Bolitho faced them calmly. 'Well, gentlemen, at last we have a plan.'
The eyes shifted to him and stayed there.
'In an hour or so we will alter course to the north and beat back towards the mainland. There is not much time, and a great deal to do. Now, it seems to me that the French will not attempt to return to Cozar during the night. For one thing it is a mite dangerous, and the other is that they might run against us or the Princesa.' He unrolled a chart on the table. 'By dawn tomorrow I intend to be in this position to the nor'-west of the island, and as soon as we are sighted by the garrison then Lieutenant Bellamy will take his ship into the harbour.'
If he had announced a visitation from God his words could not have had a greater effect. Some of the officers stared incredulously at Bellamy for explanation or confirmation, but the latter merely looked at his feet. Others exchanged baffled glances and threw strange stares at Bolitho, as if to reassure themselves that he had not gone raving mad.
Bolitho smiled slightly and continued, 'In the next hour I want one of our carronades taken across to the Chanticleer.' He tightened his jaw, hearing his own words committing himself and every man present. 'In addition she will carry one hundred of our seamen and all the marines.'
Captain Ashby could contain himself no longer. 'But what will happen, sir? I-I mean, dammit, sir.. He trailed away into helpless silence as Rooke's drawling voice broke in from the side of the cabin.
'So you want the Frogs to think that the sloop is the Fdirfax returning to harbour, sir?'
Bolitho nodded silently. Rooke was sharp enough anyway, and well ahead of the rest.
'Exactly.'
There was a great buzz of murmurs and questions, and then Quarme asked doggedly, 'What chance is there of success, sir? I mean to say, the Chanticleer is a sloop, but she's nothing like the Fairfax. She's older and smaller!' There were several nods around him.
'A good point, Mr. Quarme.' Bolitho thrust his hands behind him. `However, I have found from experience that men usually see what they expect to see. ' He looked around their faces very slowly. 'And the enemy will see a sloop being chased back into harbour by the Hyperion. They will open fire on this ship to cover her escape. By the time they realise what has happened we will be inside the harbour and too close to the landing place for the French to depress their guns.'
He had every man's full attention now. Even the midshipmen were craning forward to listen.
He said, 'But it has to be quick, gentlemen. At any moment from now on the French might be sending other ships. Then again some keen-eyed lookout might see the difference in sloops before we can enter harbour. But the garrison will be soldiers. Need I say more?'
Surprisingly, several of them actually laughed. It was a small beginning.
Bolitho looked round. 'Do we have a French flag? One of the new ones?'
Several heads were shaken.
Bolitho sought out the grey-haired sailmaker. 'Well, Mr. Buckle, you have thirty minutes to make one, so get to it!'
He did not wait for the man to reply but turned to the Hyperion's gunner. 'Mr. Pearse, you can get the carronade swayed across as soon as you like. Select a good crew for it, and use whatever boat you require.'
He watched him follow the sailmaker and then added evenly, 'When we made our last attack on the harbour we were hiddedn from the battery for a few moments by a shoulder of land. If this ship keeps on that same course as before the enemy might move some of the other guns across to hit us better. They will be very confident by that time, and will know that we would never attempt to sail directly into a trap. If they do that the sloop willl have an even better chance.'
There was a murmur of excitement. It was a plan at last. There was still a lot to be sorted out and explained. But it was a plan.
'Very well, gentlemen, you may go. Attend to your duties. I will be on deck directly to deal. with the next phase.' -
As they left the cabin Bolitho turned once more to Lieutenant Bellamy. He had expected some comment, even protest, but Bellamy had said nothing at all, and Bolitho was not sure he had understood half of what was expected of him-.-
He said, 'Thank you, Bellamy, that was most helpful.'
The lieutenant stared at him and swallowed hard. It was? He gulped again. 'Er, thank you, sir.'
Bolitho followed him on deck and watched him walk unsteadily towards the entry port. Then he breathed out very slowly. He had failed to inform Lord Hood of the failure to take Cozar. He had assumed overall command of an operation which might end in real disaster and a great loss of life. He had even waylaid a sloop with its despatches and mail, and would possibly destroy the little ship for good measure.
He looked up at the masthead and saw the pendant lifting and stirring itself in a growing breeze. But if there had been any excuse for avoiding action before, there was none now. The consequences for what he had already done had made that impossible.
Then pushing the doubt from his mind he crossed to the weather side of the quarterdeck and began to pace up and down with steady concentration.
Bolitho awoke with a violent start and for several seconds stared at Allday's stooping shape and the heavy jug which he carried in one hand.
Allday said quietly, 'Sorry to wake you, Captain, but it's getting a mite lighter on deck.' He held out a mug and began to pour a hot drink while Bolitho gathered his thoughts and peered around the sloop's tiny cabin.
Above the chair in which he had fallen into an exhausted sleep he could see a pale rectangle of light from the quarterdeck skylight, and the sudden realisation of what lay ahead held him rigidly in his seat, like a man emerging from a nightmare only to find it is real.
The hot coffee tasted bitter, but he felt it exploring his insides and was grateful for it.
'How is the wind?'
Allday shrugged. 'Light by steady, Captain. Still from the nor'-west.'
'Good.' He stood up quickly and let out a curse as his head struck the low deck beams.
Ailday controlled the impulse to grin. 'Not much of a ship, is she, Captain?'
Bolitho rubbed his arms to restore the circulation and replied coldly, 'My first command was a sloop of war, Allday. Very like this one.' Then he smiled ruefully. 'But you are right. Such craft are for the very young, or the very small!'
The door opened a few inches and Lieutenant Bellamy bobbed his head inside, 'Ah, sir, I see you have been called.' He showed his teeth. 'A fine day for it!'
Bolitho eyed him with surprise. It was amazing bow Bellamy had thrown himself into the scheme of things. If anything went wrong he would have much to explain. In the Navy it was not always sufficient to hold on to the excuse that you were only obeying someone else's orders.
Bent almost double, Bolitho followed him up a short ladder and on to the sloop's quarterdeck. It felt very cool, and in the pale light he could see patches of broken cloud and a few catspaws of tossing water. He shivered and wished he was wearing his coat. But like the rest he had discarded anything which might be seen and recognised by a vigilant sentry.
Bellamy was pointing across the larboard bow. 'Cozar is about five miles over yonder, sir. It'll not be long now.'
Bolitho walked aft to the taffrail and strained his eyes astern. The breeze was steady on his skin, but of the Hyperion there was no sign. He walked slowly back past the unprotected wheel, his shoes sounding strangely loud in the silence.
Once again he pushed his mind back over the past hectic hours, seeking any flaw or mistake in his plans. He recalled Quarme's brief show of dismay when he had told. him that he was to be left in charge of the ship. Even Bolitho's patient explanation had done little to change things.
If the French were not deceived; or the sloop was overcome before she could be laid alongside the landing place, nobody in the attacking force would survive.
It was Bolitho's plan. -He would take the risk. But he could sympathise with Quarme all the same. He had learned that Quarme was a career officer with little money or influence to back his progress. His sort depended on being given charge of a cutting-out operation, or a scatter-brained scheme like this one. Others climbed the slippery ladder to promotion by way of the deaths or advancements of their superiors, and maybe Quarme had already
