way to slight corpulence, and his forehead was creased m what appeared to be a permanent frown.
But the mouth' was the same, small and petulant, and the eyes, as they skimmed back and forth over the paper, pale and protruding. He had dull, reddish hair, and his skin seemed to be that which defied the sun and was blotchy with heat, in spite of the shaded cabin.
He looked up and waved his hand. 'Carry on, Fanshawe. But try and be quicker next time!' As the lieutenant hurried away he stared fixedly at Bolitho for the first time.
'That man is a fool.' His voice was quiet but sharp, and he sounded angry. 'Well, Bolitho, what have you to say for yourself?'
Bolitho reached for his sealed report. 'I have just returned from St. Clar, sir.'
Pomfret drummed one hand on the desk and said with forced patience, 'I know all about that from your captain of the marines. What I want to know is, just what the hell do you think you were doing there at all?'
'I had to obtain water for my ship, sir. No supplies or any sort of news came from the fleet. I had to use my initiative.' Bolitho kept his voice level and formal.
Pomfret pouted his lip. 'And you made a parley with the enemy. too, I believe?'
'Yes, sir. One of the prisoners…'
Pomfret's interruption was smooth and silky. 'Ex-prisoners, surely?'
'He gave me reason to hope that we might make good use of St. Clar in future, sir.' Bolitho could hear his own breathing, just as he could feel the anger and resentment growing in him like fire.
'I do not believe in obtaining victory by compliance, Bolitho. The French are the enemy. In future you will obey orders, nothing more. We bargain with strength.' His lip curled. 'Not with brotherly love!'
Bolitho continued evenly, 'I have to report the death of my first lieutenant, sir. It is all in the report.'
Pomfret ignored the envelope and said coldly, 'You seem to have a great attraction for death and destruction, Bolitho. Your first lieutenant, the Spanish flagship and Admiral Anduaga, and of course your own commander, Sir William Moresby!'
Bolitho flushed angrily. `That is unfair, sir! When Sir William was killed I was obeying orders to the letter!'
Pomfret waved his hand. It was a very gentle gesture. 'Easy, Bolitho! You must learn to control your temper!'
Bolitho relaxed slightly. So this was how it was to be. He recalled his words to Quarme. 'Men do not change.'
He said quietly, 'When we finally took Cozar our losses were very slight, sir.'
'So I hear.' Pomfret leaned back and plucked at his neckcloth. `Well, you are under my command now and things will be different in many ways. And since Sir William died aboard your ship, you can blame yourself for that! I stepped into his shoes, Bolitho, just as you did into Captain Turner's.' He smiled briefly. 'So that is that. I was en route for New Holland and Botany Bay when I received my new orders at Gibraltar. I was to have assumed governorship there, to have made something out of that disgusting mess of convict settlements and petty-minded idiots who have been given the task of founding a new colony for us.' His cheeks were reddening with barely suppressed rage. 'And God help them!'
Bolitho said slowly, 'Had I known of your coming, sir, I would have waited in Cozar. But the water…'
Pomfret nodded sharply. 'Ah yes, the water!' He eyed him bleakly. 'You are just the same, it appears. Too soft -by half!' He nodded again. 'Oh yes, I remember you, Bolitho, have no fear of that.'
'Thank you, sir.'
Pomfret half-jumped to his feet. 'Do not be impertinent!' He slumped down again as if totally exhausted by the heat. More calmly he continued, 'Men do not respect weakness, you should have learned that by now.'
Bolitho had a sudden picture of the luckless convicts in Botany Bay. Hundreds were being shipped there, deported for crimes of every kind. Without the American colonies, England had chosen to send her unwanted criminals to the other side of the world, where the survivors of the privations and unknown fever might live to form a new extension of the country which had rejected them. He wondered if they would ever learn how lucky they were to have avoided Ponfret's ideas of discipline and progress.
Pomfret said absently, 'I am sick and tired of hearing about the honour and loyalty of such rubbish. They lie and cheat and carouse, and despise the sea-officer such as you and I. But when the drumbeats and the balls begin to fly they need the tradition and the assurance of King and country. They are as weak as water!'
Bolitho was not sure if he was referring to convicts or seamen, or if to Pomfret they were indistinguishable.
He said, They are men none the less, sir. I do not despise a man because he does not share my beliefs.'
Pomfret regarded him narrowly. 'Then you are a bigger fool than I took you for.' He leaned forward as if to give his words more impact. 'You are not commanding a frigate now, Bolitho. Under my control you will learn to do your proper duty as befits the captain of a seventy-four, see?
'Yes, sir.' Bolitho eyed him impassively. 'But I was alone here. I acted as I thought fit. We have the Fairfax 's people back, and soon we might regain the sloop.'
Pomfret wiped his face with a silk handkerchief and said, 'Do you have the sloop's officers, too?'
'No, sir. The French had already sent them north for possible exchange.'
'Pity.' Pomfret nodded absently. `I would have court-martialled the fools for allowing their ship to be taken by such a stupid ruse. However, they are not my immediate concern.' He ruffled some papers. 'I will inform Lord Hood of the present situation, and in the meantime we will garrison this macabre and miserable island properly.' He glared at Bolitho's grave face. 'It looks like the most useless place on earth!'
'It has a good harbour, sir. There is an old village where the convicts used to be, but it is derelict now. The fortress you have seen, and..
Pomfret frowned and said, 'You can take your marines back. The army will control the island now, under me of course.'
Of course, Bolitho thought grimly. 'And my orders, sir?'
Pomfret yawned. 'Fanshawe will give you them immediately, or I'll know the reason. You will sail forthwith for Gibraltar and execute my requirements as they are writtenl' He ignored the surprise on Bolitho's face. 'I was commanding a convict convoy when all this came about. I have detached some of my ships to assist here. You will go and collect them.'
'But St. Clar, sir!' Bolitho felt the cabin closing in on him.
'It will still be there when you return, Bolitho.' It was a rebuke. 'Lord Hood has given me sole command here. A free hand to do whatever is required to make a success of a rather unsatisfactory beginning.'
Bolitho stood up, his muscles taut and stiff. 'These ships, sir. Are they supplies?'
'Some of them. But it is all written in your orders. Do not fail to reach Gibraltar before all the convoy has departed. I would not be at all pleased, I can assure you!'
As he made to leave Pomfret added flatly, 'I did not ask for this command, Bolitho. But now that it is mine I intend it to prosper, or so help me God I will know the reason!' He appeared to he bored with the interview. `Now I will read your report and assess its value. I suppose you will want a replacement for your dead man?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Well, speak to the senior officer at Gibraltar. You have my authority.'
Bolitho stifled his reply. It was amazing how promotion could change a man's outlook to a point of godlike supremacy.
He replied, 'Then I will leave at once, sir.'
Pomfret's words followed him through the door. 'My orders will be carried out at all times, to the letterl'
Captain Dash was waiting on the middle deck beside the entry port, his face alight with questions. 'How did you make out, Bolitho? Is it the man you remembered?'
Bolitho stared across at the Hyperion's tall masts. 'The same.' He looked down into the waiting barge and added, 'I think we may all be in for an interesting time ahead.'
Dash watched him leave and shook his head worriedly. Then he looked up at the admiral's flag again, and wondered.
Within an hour of Bolitho's brief meeting with RearAdmiral Pomfret the Hyperion had weighed and thrust her bowsprit once more towards the beckoning horizon. To her company it seemed as if it was some sort of judgement, and that the ship was doomed to sail on and on for ever, until her timbers fell apart and dropped them bodily into the sea.
