Herrick watched him walk to the quarterdeck rail and then touched his hat. 'Anchor's hove short, sir. Ready to get under way.' His tone was formal, but as their eyes met Bolitho felt something like the excitement of sharing a secret.
'Very good, Mr. Herrick.' He took a telescope and moved it across the other anchored ships. It was a small force, but none the less impressive, and to Bolitho, who was more used to the independence granted a frigate captain, it seemed almost like a fleet.
Tugging at their cables at carefully spaced intervals were the other two line-of-battle ships. The Spanish Princesa was less gaily festooned with bunting than before, and Bolitho guessed that Pomfret must have had something to say about the matter for her to present such a sober appearance. The Tenacious was closest inshore, and as he watched he saw fresh flags breaking from her yards and a sudden burst of activity on her upper deck.
Midshipman Piper squeaked, `From Flag! Up anchor, sir!'
From the lee side of the quarterdeck Caswell growled, 'You should have seen that signal earlier, Mr. Piper!'
Bolitho hid a smile as the humbled Piper murmured a suitable apology. As an acting lieutenant Caswell was apparently well able to forget that only four days ago he had been doing Piper's work and taking all the kicks, justified or otherwise.
Bolitho said, 'Get the ship under way, if you please. Lay a course to weather the headland.'
Herrick raised his speaking trumpet, his voice and move-' ments unhurried. 'Stand by the capstan! Loose heads'ls!'
Bolitho crossed to the nettings and watched the troopship Welland and the two supply vessels he had escorted from Gibraltar going through the orderly confusion of making sail.
Piper said loudly, 'Signal from Flag, sir. Make haste!'
Herrick half turned and then yelled, 'Loose tops'ls! He was shading his eyes as he followed the desperate activity above the deck, as first one then a second sail billowed out to thunder impatiently against the fresh wind.
'Anchor's aweigh, sir!'
That was Rooke's voice, and Bolitho wondered how he felt about Herrick's arrival as his superior.
Herrick snapped, 'Braces therel You, Mr. Tomlin, drive those idlers aft! Get 'em on the mi7Jen braces!'
Bolitho shivered, but not from fever. It was the old thrill and excitement coming back to him as strongly as ever. And he need have no fears on Herrick's part. After a clumsy, deep hulled Indiaman, probably crewed by semi- articulate seamen from a dozen countries, he would find the Hyperion's welldrilled company something of a relief.
Wheeling ponderously like armoured knights the three ships of the line tacked slowly around the island's crumbling headland. With Tenacious in the lead and Hyperion and Princesa following at quarter-mile intervals they made a formidable and splendid picture.
The three transports, their decks crammed with red-coated soldiers, tacked more carefully to leeward, whilst ahead and astern the sloops Chanticleer and Alisma acted like sheepdogs around a valuable flock.
The battered Harvester had remained in harbour to complete her repairs, and until more help arrived would be the island's only guardship.
PomЂret's only other frigate, Bat, had sailed two days earlier, and with luck would be sniffing off the French coast in case of last-minute difficulties.
`Another signal from Flag, sir!' Piper was hoarse. 'Make all sail conformable with weather!'
Herrick rocked forward on his toes as the Hyperion butted into a steep, white-backed roller. 'Lively therel Set the t'gallants!' He leaned over the rail and pointed with his trumpet. 'You there, with the fancy knife, move yourself, my lad, you'll feel the bosun's displeasure!' Then he grinned as if he was enjoying a private joke.
Gossett intoned, 'Fleet course nor' by west, sir! Full and bye!'
The deck trembled as more and more canvas crept along the vibrating yards, whilst framed against the sunlight the nimble topmen ran heedless of their dizzy perches, racing each other in their efforts to obey the demanding voice from the deck.
Piper gulped. 'Here, Seton, give me a hand, will you? I'm puffed out!'
Bolitho turned, caught off guard as Midshipman Seton ran to help his, friend beside the snaking halyards. Then he lifted his glass and. trained it on the island, which as he watched was slipping back into the rolling bank of morning haze like a brown shadow. He could just make out the small Moorish fort, and below it, scattered amongst the fallen stonework, he could also see a crowd of silent, watching figures. They were convicts, working already to repair some of the neglected defences. But now they were watching the ships, wondering no doubt if they would ever live to see England or anywhere else again.
But Bolitho was thinking of someone else. Just the mention of the girl's brother had started the nagging pain of uncertainty again, a pain only temporarily dulled by his fever.
Then he saw Herrick watching him, his face shadowed beneath his hat. He tried to ease the girl's memory to the back of his mind. He had at least got Herrick.
But in spite of this consolation he trained his glass again, and was still watching Cozar when the flagship made another signal and together the ships turned and headed towards France.
11
Lieutenant Thomas Herrick hunched his shoulders into his heavy tarpaulin coat and leaned towards the wind. His eyes were raw with salt and flying spray, and as he peered towards the plunging forecastle he found it hard to believe that the last dog watch had only just commenced, for already it was as dark as night. Grimly he turned his shoulders against the howling wind and allowed it to push him aft towards the wheel where four sodden seamen wrestled with the spokes and stared anxiously at the sparse array of thundering sails as the ship crashed and rolled almost into the teeth of the gale. Even stripped down to close-reefed topsails the strain was obvious, and the sounds of the sea were lost to the great pandemonium of banging canvas, the demoniac whine of rigging and shrouds and a melancholy clank of pumps.
Herrick peered briefly at the swaying compass and saw that the Hyperion was still holding her course, almost due north, and wondered just how much longer the weather would stay against them. It was four days since the squadron had sailed from Cozar, yet it seemed like a month at least. The first two days had gone quite well with a lively north-westerly and clear sky, while in response to Pomfret's steady. stream of signals the ships had driven north-east deep into the Golfe du Lion so that any prowling French ship might think they were making to join Lord Hood at Toulon rather than heading for some project of their own. Then as the wind veered and mounted and the sky became hidden by low, black-bellied clouds, Pomfret's signals had become more irate and demanding as the deep-laden transports fought with diminishing success to remain on station, and the two sloops were thrown about like oared boats in the rising procession of angry rollers.
There was rain too, but so great was the sea that it was difficult to distinguish between it and the spray which lifted above the weather bulwarks and soaked the struggling seamen to the skin, or clawed at the feet of the men aloft as they fought to control the glistening sails before they tore themselves from the yards like so much paper.
On the third day Pomfret had come to a decision. While the squadron hauled off to the north-east of St. Clar and hove to until the storm had blown its course, Hyperion was to be detached and would drive southward to patrol the southern approaches of the small port until the moment of entry. Somewhere to the northern side of the inlet the solitary frigate Bat would even now be rolling madly in an effort to cover the opposite extremity.
Herrick cursed angrily as a sheet of spray sighed over the nettings and dashed him full in the face, running instantly down his stomach and legs like ice-rime. The more he allowed himself to think about Pomfret the angrier he became. It was difficult to think of him as he was now, and whenever Herrick tried to examine Pomfret's motives he seemed to see him as he had once been aboard the Phalarope. Moody, evasive, and given to sudden fits of blind,
