'Good night, Captain.' She lifted one hand very slightly and then steadied herself against the mast as the Hyperion lifted lazily over a steep roller. `A very pleasant evening.'
She made to head for the poop but Bolitho said hurriedly, 'Er, Miss Seton!' He saw her falter and then turn back. 'I was, er, just wondering if you are quite comfortable?'
In the darkness her teeth shone very white. 'Thank you, Captain, quite comfortable.'
Bolitho felt himself actually flushing and was suddenly enraged by his own stupidity. What, after all, had he expected?
She said calmly, 'I shall be almost sorry to reach Cozar.'
Bolitho made himself walk across the intervening deck and then said, 'I have been thinking about that. Cozar is not exactly a suitable place..
'I know, Captain.' There was no rebuke or hostility in her voice. It might have been sadness. 'But there it is.'
Dalby pattered across the quarterdeck and stood staring at them. 'Forebrace secure and snug for the night, sir!'
Bolitho turned hotly. 'Go away, Mr. Dalby!'
When he faced the girl again he saw that she was holding her mouth and shaking with suppressed laughter.
'The poor man! You've frightened him to death!' She recovered quickly. 'I can't imagine why they all seem to like you so much. You really are a terrible bully!'
Bolitho did not know what to say. 'I do not mean…’ he began, but he sounded so pompous that he broke off and grinned helplessly. 'I am sorry, Miss Seton. I will try to remember that.'
She nodded. 'Now I will go to my cabin, Captain?
Bolitho took half a pace after her. 'Might we dine together?' He was out of his depth, and worse, he knew it. 'Perhaps before we reach Cozar?'
For a terrible moment he thought she was going to complete her victory by ignoring him. But beside the helmsman she paused and seemed to consider the request.
'I think that would be very pleasant, Captain. I will think about it tomorrow.' Then she was gone.
The eyes of the two helmsmen glowed in the binnacle light like bright marbles as they watched their captain's confusion.
But Bolitho did not care. He was enjoying a new sensation entirely, and was strangely indifferent to what any of his men thought at that particular moment.
The following morning found Bolitho up, dressed and shaved bright and early. This was not unusual for him, because although he was always fascinated by sunsets at sea, he was even more intrigued and strengthened by the early morning. The air felt fresher, and the sea was without malice in the pale sunlight.
He walked to the quarterdeck rail and stood for several minutes watching the hands moving busily across the upper deck, calling cheerfully to each other as they worked with swabs and holystones to the steady accompaniment of saltwater pumps.
Rooke had requested permission to set topgallants and royals while he had been shaving, and now as he looked up at the gleaming white banks of canvas he felt strangely happy and replete. The ship was behaving well, and the men were far happier than they had been for some time, and more so than they had a right to be. When he thought back to the previous night he felt a brief pang of uncertainty. The girl would be leaving the ship very soon. It was to be hoped that this new sense of comradeship did not leave with her.
But he knew he was really exploring his own feelings. The sudden sense of loss gave him an instant answer, if doubts he had. It was of course quite ridiculous. Right or wrong, she would be an admiral's lady, and he had no doubt that Pomfret would soon use his influence to get away from Cozar and hoist his flag in more amenable surroundings.
He heard Gossett murmur a greeting behind him, and when he turned he saw her walking slowly towards the rail, her face turned towards the filtered sunlight. She had been more tanned than was customary to expect when she had come aboard, and now that he knew she had grown up in Jamaica he was not surprised. But after a few days at sea the tan had settled to a beautiiful golden brown, and he felt unusually moved as he watched her enjoying the early warmth of the day to come.
He removed his hat and smiled awkwardly. 'Good morning, Miss Seton. I trust you slept well?' His voice was louder than he had intended, and by the nine-pounders a ship's boy froze above his holystone and stared up at him.
She smiled. 'Very well, Captain. Better than for a long time.'
'Fr, good.' Bolitho ignored the gaping seamen by the wheel. 'As you see, the convoy is keeping good station and the wind is still behaving as it should.'
She was watching him, her eyes suddenly grave. 'We will be at Cozar on time then?'
He nodded. 'Yes.' He nearly replied, 'I'm afraid so.' He glanced at the masthead pendant to recover himself. 'I have just instructed my carpenter to start work on a few pieces of furniture which might make your home at Cozar more comfortable for you.' She was still watching him, and he could feel the heat rising to his cheeks. 'They wanted to do it,' he added lamely.
She did not speak for a few seconds. Then she nodded slowly, and he saw a sudden brightness in her eyes.
'Thank you, Captain. That was very kind of you.'
The men working around them, the helmsmen and the officer of the. watch all seemed to fade as he continued quietly, 'I only wish there was something more I could do.'
She swung towards the sea, her face hidden by her hair, and Bolitho held his breath with something like panic. He had gone too far. She would cut the ground from under him, as he well deserved.
But she said, 'Perhaps we had better not dine together, Captain. It might be better if…' She broke off as a voice pealed down from above.
'Deck therel Snipe's going about! She's signalling, sir!' Bolitho dragged his mind back from the sudden despair her words had given him.
'Get aloft, Mr. Caswell, and see what you can of herl'
Then to the girl he said quietly, 'I am sorry. I did not mean to imply…' He struggled; helplessly for words.
She faced him again and he saw that there were tears in her eyes. She said, 'It was nothing you did, Captain. Believe me.'
'Deck there! Signal reads, 'Snipe to Hyperion. Strange sail bearing nor'-nor-west.' '' Caswell had to shout above the din of booming canvas.
When Bolitho looked again the girl had gone. He said heavily, 'Very well. Make to Snipe.' He frowned. Every thought was a physical effort. 'Make, 'Investigate immediately.'' As Caswell slithered down a backstay he added, 'Then signal the convoy to reduce sail.'
He walked past the men by the halyards as flag after flag was pulled from the locker to snake its way up the yards. A mile.clear on the starboard quarter the frigate Harvester heeled slightly in the wind, and a shaft of sunlight played on more than one raised telescope as the signals broke out stiffly with colourful urgency.
He saw Rooke watching him thoughtfully and said, 'Get the royals off her, Mr. Rooke. We will overtake the convoy otherwise.'
Every available glass was trained on the distant feather of white sail as the little sloop tacked round and away towards the horizon. Another false alarm? Bolitho could find neither relief nor apprehension now.
The minutes dragged by. Eight bells struck from forward and the watches changed.
Allday crossed the quarterdeck. 'You have had no breakfast, Captain.' He seemed anxious.
Bolitho shrugged. 'I am not hungry.' He did not even rebuke him for breaking into his thoughts.
A whole hour went by before the sloop's topgallants reappeared on the sharpening horizon.
Caswell climbed high into the mizzen shrouds, his telescope balanced agninst the ship's easy roll. 'From Snipe, sir.' He blinked and rubbed his streaming eye. Then he tried again. 'I can't quite make it out, sir.' He almost fell from the shrouds as some freak roller lifted the far-off sloop simultaneously with the Hyperion. He shouted, 'Signal reads, 'Enemy in sight', sir!'
Bolitho felt strangely unmoved. 'Very well. General signal to convoy. 'Enemy in sight. Prepare for battle.' '
Rooke stared at him. 'But, sir, they might not wish to fight!'
