devised.
Rooke asked, 'Any orders, sir?'
'Get as much fresh fruit as the boats can carry aboard while I'm away. But this ship will sail by eight bells, understood?'
Then he climbed down to the boat and pulled his cloak around his body as if to hide his thoughts from the watching seamen.
Allday growled, 'Shove off! Give way together!'
Over Bolitho's shoulder he said quietly, 'An odd name for a convict ship, Captain. There were some folk transported from Bodmin just for stealing bread. I don't call that justice!'
Bolitho bowed his head as spray whipped across his lips like hail. It was strange that Aiday and men like him who had once been forcibly pressed into Service should speak with such compassion, yet showed no pity for others taken from their homes to serve at sea in a King's ship. But like Allday he knew there was a difference, and although he would have to stifle it in his mind, it would always be there for him too.
'Boat ahoy?' A gruff voice yelled down from the ship's weathered side.
Allday replied loudly, 'Captain of his Majesty's Ship Hyperion coming aboard!'
Beneath his cloak Bolitho shivered. The Justice even smelt of human decay.
8. THE PASSENGER
Captain Hoggan of the transport Justice stood arms folded in the centre of his littered cabin and watched Bolitho with obvious amusement. He was a muscular man with thick, unkempt hair, and his heavy coat, which would have been more suitable in the North Atlantic, looked as if it had been slept in.
'If you were expecting a protest from me, Bolitho, you can rest easy.' He gestured towards a bottle. 'Will you take a glass before you leave?'
Bolitho looked around the cabin. It was crammed with seachests and baggage of every kind, as well as a shining stand of muskets and pistols. What made a professional seaman take work of this sort? He wondered. A ship which plied its trade back and forth carrying one wretched cargo after another. He guessed that the boxes contained personal possessions of some of the convicts who died on passage, and the realisation made him answer coldly, 'No, Captain, I will not take a drink.'
'Suit yourself.' The cabin's close confines filled with the heady aroma of rum as Hoggan slopped a full measure into a glass for himself. Then he said, 'After all, you are ordering me to take this trash to Cozar. After that they're Pomfret's problem.' He winked. 'To me it just means a short trip and back home at the same price. Far better'n month after month at sea with Botany Bay at the end of it all!'
Bolitho shivered in spite of the trapped air. 'Very well. You will sail as soon as I make the signal. Obey all directions from my ship, and keep station at all times.'
Hoggan's face hardened slightly. 'This is no King's ship!'
'It is under my orders, Captain.' Bolitho tried to hide the contempt he felt for the other man. He glanced at his pocket watch. 'Now be so good as to assemble the convicts. I intend to tell them what is happening.'
Hoggan seemed about to protest. Then he grinned and muttered, 'This beats everything! Why bother with the like o' them?'
'Just do as I ask, if you please.' Bolitho looked away. 'They have that right surely.'
Hoggan clumped away, and within minutes could be heard bellowing orders from the poop. Then he reappeared in the doorway and made a mock bow.
'The gentlemen are ready, Captain!' He was grinning broadly. 'I must apologise for their rough appearance, but they wasn't expecting a King's officer to pay 'em a visit!'
Bolitho eyed him coldly and then walked out on to the windswept deck. Overhead the sky was crossed by narrow clouds, and as they scudded above the spiralling masts Bolitho knew that the wind was still mounting.
Then he looked down at the maindeck and saw the great press of upturned faces. The Justice was not much bigger than a large frigate, although he knew that her hull was deep and built more for carrying cargo than for making speed. It seemed incredible that all these unkempt, cowed-looking men could live and survive the rigours of the long voyage to New Holland, for the ship carried a full crew and all the additional stores as well which were required for such a journey. His eye moved along the gangways on either side of the upper deck. Unlike a ship of war they were protected as much from inboard as from a possible attacker, and the business-like swivel guns were pointing not to seaward but straight down on to the assembled convicts.
He noted the mixture of dress, too. Ranging from soiled broadcloth to stinking prison rags, while here and there a man stood out in some colourful garb to add to the unreality of their alien presence. Uprooted from their homes through greed or misfortune, they now stood swaying in total silence, their eyes on his face, their expressions ranging from fear to complete despair.
Some of the watchful guards on the gangways carried whips, and Bolitho's mind rebelled as he saw the expert ease with which they flicked them against their shoes as they waited idly for him to speak and then get about his proper business.
Was it possible that men never learned from past events? Senseless brutality had no place in the proper maintenance of order and discipline. It was less than a year since some of the ill-fated Bounty mutineers had choked out their lives before the eyes of the fleet at Portsmouth, yet some men still found more satisfaction from administering the punishment rather than finding the cure.
'I will not keep you long.' Bolitho's voice carried easily above the creak of spars and rigging. 'I am not here to judge or condemn you. That has been done already. I have to tell you that your journey to New Holland has been postponed, for how' long I cannot at present say.' He had every man's attention now. 'This ship will sail in convoy to the island of Cozar, a distance of some six hundred miles. There you will be put to work in order that you can make a real contribution in the fight against our country's enemies!'
Something like a great groan rose from the packed figures, and when Bolitho looked at Hoggan he said bluntly, 'Some o' them has womenfolk and children with 'em.' He gestured vaguely over the weather rail. 'They've sailed on with the main convoy.'
Bolitho stared down at the prisoners, both stunned by Hoggan's indifference and appalled by what his words really implied. He should have remembered that it was customary to carry men and women in separate ships, and it was a wise precaution. But he had never before visualised these people as being families, but more as faceless individuals.
A voice called suddenly, 'Me wife, sirl Fer pity's sake, what will she do without me?'
Hoggan yelled, 'Keep silent, you snivelling pig!'
Bolitho held up his hand. 'Let me try and answer that, Captain.' To the deck at large he added evenly, `War leaves little choice in these matters. My own people have not set foot ashore for many months, in some cases for several years. Yet they too have families..
He broke off as the voice called out again. 'But she's gone out there, out to…' It trailed away as if the speaker was suddenly confronted with the true horror of deportation.
Bolitho said, 'I will do what I can for all of you. If you work well and obey orders, I am sure that such behaviour will weigh heavily in your favour. Remission of sentence is not unknown.' He wanted to get away from this wretched ship, but could not find it in his heart to merely turn his back and leave them to their despair. 'Just remember that whatever else you may or may not be, you are all Englishmen and faced with a common enemy.'
He broke off as Allday said quietly, 'Hyperion's boats are returning, Captain. Mr. Rooke must be worried about the wind.'
Bolitho nodded and turned to Hoggan. 'You may prepare to weigh. I will sail directly.' He watched the upturned faces slowly breaking apart into small, aimless groups. 'Try not to make their lives any harder, Captain.'
Hoggan eyed him with obvious hostility. 'Are you choosing to give me orders, sir?'
'Since you put it that way, Captain Hoggan, yes, I am!' Bolitho's eyes were cold and hard. 'I am also holding you personally responsible!' Then he strode after Allday without another word.
As the barge butted manfully into the growing pattern of dancing whitecaps Bolitho stared across at the Hyperion and found time to wonder at the change she had seemingly undergone during his short visit to the Justice.
