Lieutenant Inch staggered to the foot of the ladder and cupped his hands. 'Sir! They've got 'em off! A man and a boyl' He reeled and fell heavily as the ship yawed through a sudden arc, the masts and spars shaking at their stays as if to rear free from the deck.
Bolitho waved his hand. 'Cast off! Bring her back on course, Mr. Herrick!' He blinked the spray from his eyes as the foretopmen swarmed up the shrouds to secure the remains of the sail. The thought of being up there with them made his head swim.
There was a bang like a pistol-shot from forward as one of the grapnel lines parted under the strain, throwing the hauling seamen back into an untidy heap of thrashing limbs. But the boatswain managed to free the second grapnel, and with a groan like a cry of pain the fishing-boat rolled her gunwale under the eager water and disappeared in the foam.
Against the rising and falling backdrop of sea and cloud Bolitho could see his men clutching the two survivors. One was quite limp and the smaller appeared to be struggling.
He called sharply, 'Bring those men aft, Mr. Tomlin!'
At his back he heard the wheel squeaking and grinding against the weight of the helmsmen's combined strength, and then Gossett's voice calling, 'On course, sir! Nor' by westl Full an' bye!'
Herrick sounded out of breath. 'That was close, sir!' He shook the water from his coat like a dog. 'I never thought I'd see a ship of the line behaving like a jolly boat!'
Bolitho did not answer. He was watching the limp figure carried by Ton-din's seamen, and even in the dull light it was possible to see the heavy boots, the sodden uniform and the man's moustache plastered across his face as if it had no right to be there.
Herrick saw him start and asked, 'Who is it, sir?'
Bolitho answered quietly, 'Lieutenant Charlois. The man who arranged the parley.' He called, 'Get the surgeon- and take this man to my cabin at once!'
As the seamen gathered up their limp bundle he turned and stared at the boy. He was about Seton's age, but squareshouldered. and with hair as black as his own. He asked, 'What happened? Do you speak English, boy?'
The boy muttered under his breath and then spat on the quarterdeck.
Tomlin said calmly, 'That won't do at all, lad.' He cuffed him swiftly across the ear and then stared with horror as the boy collapsed sobbing on the deck at his feet. 'Gawd Almighty!'
Bolitho said, 'Take him below, Bosun. Keep him dry and warm. I will speak withh him later. Now I must see Charlois.'
Inch walked straddle-legged up the tilting deck and watched the surgeon hurrying after Bolitho. He said, `Upon my word, Mr. Herrick! If it's not one thing it's another!'
Herrick bit his lip and watched the sails as the ship swooped dizzily into another wide trough. 'One thing is sure, Mr. Inch. Whatever it is which has brought that man out here, it cannot be good!'
Bolitho stood in the doorway of his sleeping cabin and watched as Rowistone clung to the swaying cot and completed his examination of the unconscious Charlois while one of his mates and Allday held extra lanterns above his head.
The surgeon straightened his narrow shoulders and said at length, 'I am sorry, sir.' He shrugged. 'There is a ball lodged beneath his left lung. I do not think I can help him.'
Bolitho moved closer, and stared down at the Frenchman's heavy features and the shallow, painful movements of his chest.
Rowistone added meaningly, 'Had it been earlier, sir, I might have saved him. But this man was shot some while ago. Maybe three days. See that black stain around the wound? It is very bad.'
Bolitho did not have to look close. He could smell it. He asked quietly, 'Gangrene?'
Rowistone nodded. 'How he has lived this long I cannot imagine.'
'Well, see that be is made as comfortable as possible.' Bolitho half-turned and then looked down again as Charlois' lids flickered and then opened. For several seconds the eyes merely stared, unfocused and without comprehension, as if they did not belong in the man's face, which in the lamplight gleamed like tallow.
'Is it you, Captain?' The salt-dried lips moved very slowly, and Bolitho had to stoop to hear the words, his stomach rebelling against the foul stench of the wound.
Charlois closed his eyes again. 'God be praised!'
Bolitho asked, 'I am here. Why did you leave St. Clar? He hated to see the man struggling against his agony to assemble his thoughts, but he had to know.
Charlois said weakly, 'My son? Is he safe?'
Bolitho nodded. 'Safe and well. He was a brave boy to stay alone at the tiller in this storm.'
'A brave son.' Charlois tried to nod. 'But he hates me now. He despises me as a traitor to France!' A tear ran from the comer of his eye but he struggled on, 'He only came with me as a duty to his father, a duty, nothing more!'
The effort. of speaking was taking its toll and Rowistone eyed Bolitho with unspoken warning.
Gently Bolitho persisted, 'But why come out here?'
'I gave you my word, Captain. We made a bargain, you and I. I thought that it would all be over quickly, but your admiral believed otherwise.' He breathed out very slowly. 'Now it is too late. I had to warn you. It was my duty.'
Bolitho said, 'How long have you been at sea?'
Charlois sighed. 'Two, three days, I do not remember. When the ship came to St. Clar I knew it was finished, so I tried to find you. But the boat was fired on. I was hit by some
.' He rolled his head against the rough pillow, his face contorted with pain. 'It is over for us, Captain!'.
'What ship?' Bolitho touched Charlois' shoulder, feeling the clamminess of the flesh. 'Try and speak, man!'
Charlois muttered brokenly, 'She was running from the storm after being damaged in a fight with one of your ships. -She is called Saphir.'
Bolitho watched him sadly. It was ironic that the ship which had unexpectedly arrived at St. Clar was the one which Hyperion had vanquished in battle.
Charlois' voice seemed suddenly stronger. 'Her captain is a little upstart! He owes his command to the blood of his betters that something was wrong. He sent horsemen to Toulouse. There are many soldiers there.' His voice was fainter once who died by order of the Revolution! He was quick to guess more and his breathing short, and in the seated cabin very loud. 'It is over. You must tell your admiral.'
Bolitho looked away, seeing in his mind's eye the great wilderness of tossing water, the enclosing darkness around his ship. Somewhere, far off to the north-east, Pomfret's squadron was riding out the storm, It would take all night to find him. It could take longer. By that time it would be too late. Pomfret would sail into the inlet to be met by the concencrated fire of a moored eighty-gun ship. Probably the coastal battery would fire on the squadron also, for they would see no point in doing otherwise with their cause already lost.
And Pomfret would go on with the attack. Losing ships and men which he could ill' afford. His strength was for holding the town, and not taking it against a hostile force who would be expecting reinforcements at any moment from Toulouse. He tried to picture the chart in his mind. It was all of one hundred and twenty miles inland to Toulouse. Horsemen could be there in a day, or allowing for the roads and heavy rain, a day and night, riding hard. And they would ride very hard, he decided grimly. The garrison at Toulouse were professional, fully trained troops, sent there to control the hills and all the roads to the Spanish border. How long would it take them to march on St. Clar? Three days? He thought of French troops landing at Falmouth. How long would it take English soldieis to march against an invader? Very little time at all.
Gossett had assured him that the gale would drop tomorrow. So there would be nothing to stop Pomfret or give him time to find him.
Charlois said, 'They have put a boom across the harbour, Believe me, Captain, they are ready for anything!'
'Thank you, Lieutenant. Rest assured that what you have done will be remembered.'
'I think not.' Charlios was dying even as they watched. 'It might have succeeded if only you had got there in time! But there were doubters and those who were afraid. They needed a gesture, you understand? Just a gesture of` faith!'
Bolitho stood back. 'Fetch his son. He is going fast:
As soon as the shivering youth was brought to the cabin Bolitho walked out on to the quarterdeck. The boy
