depended on it, which well they might. For as the wind howled against the straining sails and the Hyperion swayed over at a sickening angle with her lower gunports awash, Bolitho drove the ship without respite or concession. It was a contest between ship and captain, with the angry sea and wind common enemies to both.
Officers and seamen alike stopped watching the bending yards or listening to the agonised whine of rigging. It had gone beyond that. If they had the time or the strength to wonder at all they saved it for Bolitho as he handled his ship through one crisis after another, marvelling that he could go on with neither break nor sleep.
During the forenoon watch of the second day the Hyperion rounded the northern headland and tacked gratefully into the inlet. Any hope of a breathing space was instantly dashed by the scene which greeted her tired company, and there were a few anxious moments until the anchor splashed down in deep water just inside the arms of the entrance. Sheltered from the wind's full force it was easy to hear the threatening rumble of artillery and the occasional crash of falling masonry as a wellaimed ball found a target in the town itself.
Bolitho swung his glass across the inlet, seeing the great pall of smoke beyond the huddled houses, the savage scars and holes in many of the roof-tops. He had been made to anchor in deep water because the outer harbour was filled with other vessels, driven from the sheltered reaches and jetty by the searching cannon-fire. Tenacious and the Spanish Princesa were nearest the town, and two transports swung to their anchors with hardly enough room to prevent a collision in any unexpected change of wind. He closed his glass with a snap.
Driven out. Made to lie in the last available shelter in the face of the enemy. They could not withdraw any more. There was only the sea at their backs.
He said sharply, 'My barge! I am going to the admiral's headquarters!' He had already seen that the Tenacious was without Pomfret's flag.
Herrick hurried aft. 'Shall I come with you, sir?'
He shook his head. `You will remain in command until I return. Keep a careful watch on the cable. I don't want her to drag and run ashore to join her old enemy.' He stared bleakly at the Saphir's charred remains below the beacon. 'It seems as if we have arrived only to witness the final curtain!'
Bolitho watched Allday as he guided the men at the tackles and his barge swung outboard across the lee gangway. He said,. 'I will want-Mr Inch and twelve good men. Have them armed and properly turned out. Whatever the truth may be, I don't want our people to look like a lot of rabble.'
Gossett said to nobody in particular, 'I see that the transport Vanessa 'as sailed. She's well out of it, if you ask me!'
Bolitho allowed Gimlet to help him on with his coat. The Vanessa's departure was the only break in the clouds, he thought grimly. He had left Ashby instructions to make sure the girl was put aboard the first ship for England. He had given her money and a letter for his sister at Falmouth. Whenever Cheney Seton reached there she would be well looked after.
'Barge ready, sir!' Lieutenant Rooke was watching him closely. `It looks as if it was all wasted, doesn't it, sir?'
Bolitho pulled his hat firmly over his forehead and replied, 'A calculated risk is never a waste entirely, Mr. Rooke. As a card player you should understand that!'
Then he hurried, down to the barge where Inch and his landing party were already jammed together like herrings in a cask.
As the boat pulled steadily past the other ships Bolitho could see their seamen standing at the gangways, or squatting in the tops, watching the town in silence. They probably realised that their ships were quite helpless now. All they could do was watch and wait for.the certain finality of retreat.
Another boom had been rigged further up the harbour, but not to prevent ships from entering. Here and there along its length Bolitho saw the broken remains of shattered fishing boats and other small craft, some of which were burned beyond recognition. The boom was there to stop any such wreck from drifting down upon the anchored ships. In that crowded inlet any such fireship would turn them into a tangled inferno.
The bargemen pulled in silence, their eyes moving from side to side as some fresh evidence of disaster moved to meet them. The houses along the northern side of the harbour were worst hit, and more than one was burning fiercely, apparently untended, while others gaped open to the sky, deserted and forlorn in the drifting smoke. By the jetty were the remains of some more boats, and as he reached for the steps Bolitho caught sight of a white upturned face pinned below the clear water, the eyes still staring towards the land of the living.
He snapped, 'Allday, remain here with the crew! I am going into the town.' He loosened his sword at his hip as Inch formed his seamen into a double line on the jetty. 'There may be trouble, so be prepared!'
Allday nodded and drew his cutlass. 'Aye, aye, Captain.' He sniffed at the air like a dog. 'Just call if you need us!'
Bolitho strode quickly up the sloping road, the seamen hurrying close on his heels. It was far worse than he had believed possible. He saw figures crouching like animals in the ruins, unwilling or too frightened to leave the remains of their homes, and more than one corpse in the rubble, already forgotten in the confusion. Above the crackle of flames and the grumbling cannon-fire he heard the occasional shriek of a heavy ball, followed instantly by yet another thudding crash.
Inch panted beside him, the sweat already pouring from beneath his hat. 'Sounds like heavy ordnance, sir! The Frogs must be in the hills to the sou'-west for them to reach this far!' He winced as another crash splintered against a nearby house and brought down an avalanche of broken bricks and dust.
At the corner of the square Bolitho saw a small detachment of grimy marines. They were grouped around a fire and staring in silence at a large black pot which they had hung across it on a piece of curtain rail. With a start he realised that they were some of his own men, and as the marines turned to stare he saw a tall sergeant spring to attention, an upraised mug still grasped in one hand.
Bolitho nodded. 'Sergeant Best! I am glad to see that you are making yourselves comfortable!'
The marine grinned through the dirt on his face. 'Aye, Sir. Cap'n Ashby 'as put our lads right round the 'eadquarters.'
He gestured towards the house. 'The Frog gunners keep tryin' to lay a broadside on the place, but the church is in the way.' He broke off as a ball sliced through the top of the church and severed the gleaming weathervane so that it fell like a dying bird to the street below. He remarked with nothing more than professional interest, `Better that time, I think!'
Bolitho grunted and hurried on towards the gates. There were more marines inside the wall. Some were sleeping beside their piled muskets, others stood or squatted along the steps in front of the house, their faces lined with fatigue and strain.
But as Bolitho approached a corporal rasped, 'Hyperion's, 'shun!' And like drugged men rising from some kind of trance the dusty marines staggered to attention, their resentment changing to something like joy as they recognised their captain.
A man called, 'Good to see you, sir! When can we get away from here?'
Bolitho brushed past them. 'I thought you were having too easy a time! So I've come to find you some real work!' It was unnerving the way they laughed at his stupid remark. They were so trusting, so. completely reassured now that they had seen him, as if his very familiarity and their own sense of belonging to one unit made all the difference:
He found Captain Dash sitting behind Pomfret's big desk, his head resting in his hands.
Bolitho said to Inch, 'Wait in the passage and stop the men from straying away.' Then he closed the door behind him and walked over to the desk.
Dash rubbed his eyes and stared at him. My God, I thought I was still dreaming!' He made to struggle to his feet. 'I am very glad to see you.'
Bolitho squatted on the edge of the desk. 'I would have been here sooner, but…' He shrugged. That was all in the past now. He added, 'How bad is it?'
Dash brushed his hand across the big map, the movement both weary and dispirited. 'It is hopeless, Bolitho! The enemy is getting more reinforcements every day.' He drew one finger around the town. 'Our men are hemmed in tight. We have lost the hills and the road. The whole line is falling back. By tomorrow we might be fighting in the streets.' He tapped the southern headland. 'If they push us off there, we're done for. Once the French get their guns on that headland they can pound our ships to boxwood in a matter of hours. We won't even be able to escape if that happens!'
Bolitho watched him closely. Dash had changed in some way, but he could not yet put his finger on it.
