Bolitho asked, 'And what is it you wish to tell me?'
'Just this. Sir Edmund Pomfret is a powerful man to oppose, sir. He must have great influence to ride above losing his first command and all the other trouble he has caused. He has risen to flag rank in spite of all these things. He would be quick to use his influence and authority against you if he thought for one minute you were interested in his lady, sir!'
Bolitho's voice was very calm. 'Is that all?'
Herrick nodded. 'Aye, sir. I couldn't stand by and see such a thing happen without saying my piece.'
Bolitho clenched his fingers and felt the pain shoot up his arm like a knife. 'Now you may call my barge, Mr. Herrick.' He turned away, his face controlled, but inside his mind was boiling like a whirlpool. It was no comfort to realise that Herrick was right. No compensation to weigh what his words must have cost him.
He added coldly, 'You need have no fears on my behalf. But in future I would be pleased if you would refrain from trying to live my life for me!'
He saw Gimlett lounging by the poop ladder and called' sharply, 'Lay out my shoregoing uniform!' He turned beside the abandoned wheel and looked -back at Herrick's troubled features. 'So let that be the end of the matter!'
Twenty minutes later Bolitho strode to the entry port, his wounded arm strapped against his side and covered by his heavy dress coat. Herrick was waiting with the other officers, and Bolitho was momentarily tempted to take him aside, to kill this stupid rift which had been of his own making. Angry with himself, angrier still that Herrick had seen through his pitiful defences he snapped, 'Carry on!' Then he lifted his hat to the quarterdeck and climbed down to the waiting barge.
The pipes shrilled and died as the boat idled clear of the ship's protective shadow, and when he looked astern he saw that Herrick was watching him, his sturdy figure suddenly small against the Hyperion's towering side.
Allday said softly, 'Is the arm well, Captain? Then he saw Bolitho's rigid shoulders and pursed his lips. There would be more squalls ahead for someone, he thought. As he steered the barge towards the distant pier he watched cautiously for some sign, some small change in Bolitho's grim expression. He could not recall having seen him like this before, and any sort of change did not fit into Allday's placid acceptance of things. There was a strange tenseness about Bolitho. A nervous expectancy which was completely alien to him.
Allday sighed and shook his head doubtfully. Like Herrick, all he wanted was to protect Bolitho, no matter from whence, or from what the danger came. But he could not shield him from himself, and the enormity of this discovery was very worrying.
To his surprise and annoyance Bolitho was greeted at the pier by a very young officer in the red tunic and facings of the infantry.
He touched his hat in reply as the-boy saluted smartly and said, 'Ensign Cowper, sir, of the 91st Foot.' He swallowed hard beneath Bolitho's unsmiling gaze and added awkwardly, 'I have brought a horse, sir. I-I thought it would make the journey easier.'
Bolitho nodded. 'That was thoughtful.' He had wanted to make the journey to the fortress on foot. To give him time to think. To clear his mind and plan what he was going to say.
The ensign saw his indecision and said helpfully, 'If you cannot ride I will lead the beast by the reins, sir.'
Bolitho studied him coldly and replied, 'A sea officer I may be, Mr. Cowper, but I am also a Cornishman. Horses are not unknown in my country!' With all the dignity he could muster he heaved himself into the saddle of the dozing animal, watched with both admiration and awe by his barge crew and the ensign's orderly.
They trotted slowly up the dirt road, each jolt of the hooves causing fresh agony in Bolitho's bandaged arm. He forced himself to take an interest in the surrounding scenery, if only to take his mind off himself and his discomfort. The road was deserted but for a listless sentry, with nothing left to mark the havoc wrought by the carronade or the jubilant onslaught of Ashby's marines.
As they turned the bend in the road he saw the fortress, and spread away across the bleached hillside the neat rows of military tents.
He said, 'I suppose that you are eager to join the rest of your people in St. Clar?'
The young ensign twisted easily in his saddle and looked at him with surprise. 'I do not quite know what is to happen yet, sir.'
Bolitho stared at the fortress. 'Well, I hope your commanding officer is better informed.'
Cowper grinned, unabashed by the sarcasm. 'But, sir, I am the commanding officer!'
Bolitho reined the horse to a halt and faced the ensign across the road. 'You are what?'
Cowper's grin vanished and he shifted uncomfortably under Bolitho's fierce stare. `Well, that is to say, sir. I am the only officer here.'
Bolitho pointed at the tents. 'And you command all these men on your own? For God's sake, what are you saying?
The boy spread his hands. 'Well, actually, sir, there are, only twenty men and a sergeant. The tents are there just in case some French frigate comes spying for information.' He sighed. 'I command an empty camp so to speak!'
Bolitho felt the horse swaying beneath him as he grappled with Cowper's crazy explanation. 'No reinforcements for St. Clar? Nothing at all?'
'None, sir. I received word from Lord Hood two days back. A brig came here from Toulon.' He flicked the reins as Bolitho nudged his horse forward. again. 'My orders are to stand guard here untill further notice. Also to increase and extend the existing camp as much as possible.' He hurried on as if fearful of what Bolitho would say. 'We cut up every piece of canvas we could find. Old sails, matting, anything. My chaps just march about relighting camp-fires and keeping an eye on the convicts.' His slim shoulders dropped slightly. 'It's all very upsetting, sir.'
Bolitho looked at him with sudden compassion. Just a boy. He could not have been commissioned long enough to have seen active service, yet he was given a task which would have made others, years senior to him, grey before their time.
He said, 'So the war goes badly at Toulon?'
Cowper nodded. 'It seems so. Lord Hood had two regiments with him there, but they cannot do much more than contain the town and hold the forts around it. It appears that many of the French who were thought to be loyal to the Royalist cause have deserted to the other side.'
'And there will be no men to spare for St. Clar.' Bolitho spoke his thoughts aloud. 'But no doubt the matter is in hand.'
Cowper sounded doubtful. 'It is to be hoped so, sir.'
In silence they trotted across the wooden bridge above the steep ditch with its cruel-looking stakes, and on through the open gates of the fortress. A solitary soldier paced the ramparts beside the battery and another ran to take the horses. Apart from them the only other living person to be seen was a half-naked man tied to the wheel of a gun-carriage, his skin raw from the probing sun, his mouth open and twitching piteously in the glare.
Cowper said unhappily, 'A defaulter, sir. My sergeant says that it is the only way to punish him.' He turned away. 'I suppose that discipline must be enforced by such means.'
Bolitho said, 'Field punishment is all very well when you have an army at your back, Mr. Cowper. I suggest you tell your sergeant that even a bad soldier will be more use than a dead one if you are attacked!'
Cowper nodded firmly. 'Thank you, sir. I will tell him.'
Once inside the round tower the air was cool, even icy after the furnace heat of the compound, and as Bolitho followed the ensign up the narrow stone stairs he remembered that other time, when this small space had been filled with musketsmoke and the screams and curses of dying men.
The quarters, occupied over the years by one commandant after another, were grim and characterless. The main room which overlooked the headland was curved to the shape of the tower, and its narrow, deepcut windows shone like brightly painted pictures of another world. There were a few rush carpets, and here and there he saw some of the plain but well-shaped furniture made by the Hyperion's carpenters. They were the only real signs of human habitation worth considering.
A small studded door opened to one side and the girl, followed by her brother and Midshipman Piper, entered the room.
Cowper said, 'Captain Bolitho is here to see you, ma'am.' He looked meaningly at the midshipmen. `If you will accompany me I will show you the rest of the, er, fortress.'
Seton said, 'I am sorry I-I was n -not at the pier t-to meet you, s-sir.'
