Cavendish sighed. 'Then that is all there is to be said on the matter.' His head twisted sharply as he stared at Pelham-Martin. 'Do you wish to make any comment?'
'Captain Bolitho was detached from my supervision, sir.' The commodore was speaking quickly, and against the harsh light thrown through the stem windows his round face was shining with sweat. 'But I am sure, that is I feel under the circumstances he acted as he thought fit.'
Cavendish glanced at his flag lieutenant. It was just a brief moment, but Bolitho thought he saw a flicker of contempt in those cold eyes.
Then he said, 'I have already told your Commodore what I intend, but as you are directly concerned I will give you the bones of my conclusions.' He turned over some papers on the desk and added curtly, 'Four ships avoided my squadron off Lorient, as you are no doubt well aware. Now more have escaped through your own patrols. You think maybe there is no connection?' He tapped the papers with his small wizened hands. 'I have had every frigate alerted, questioned every available source, yet there is not one single sign of these ships!' He slapped his hands hard on the desk. 'Not one sign.'
Bolitho watched him evenly. It was hard to see where this was leading. Did Cavendish intend to place the whole 'blame on Pelham-Martin, and thereby on him?
The vice-admiral snapped, 'Tell me, Bolitho, during the past few days since this misfortune, have you at any time wondered at the French admiral's brutality?'
Bolitho replied, 'He could have fought my ship, sir. We would have given a good account of ourselves, but the end would have been inevitable. It was four to one against, and my people are still new to warfare for the most part.'
Cavendish's grey head bobbed impatiently. 'Well, don't sit there muttering, get on with what you're thinking, dammit!'
'He could not have expected defeat, sir.' Bolitho took a quick breath. 'Therefore he must have feared damage
to spars and sails.' He looked squarely into the other man's eyes. 'I believe he must have intended to make a long voyage and not just a quick attack on our ships.
Cavendish glared at him. 'Thank you. The only useful piece of news to come out of all this is that you discovered the name of the French admiral. Lequiller is no clumsy peasant left over from the Revolution. He has an excellent record in battle. He commanded a frigate in the West Indies and fought us time and time again.' His eyes fastened on Bolitho. 'He helped to form and train the American privateers whom you at least will know were more than effective against us there.'
Bolitho felt dazed. There was still no mention of recriminations, and it was obvious from Pelham-Martin's expression that he had already suffered under Cavendish's tongue.
Cavendish was saying, 'Once it was sufficient to see a flag to know your enemy. But this is a new form of war, and we must live by new methods. Now we must learn to know the man beneath that flag, to study his background and his motives, if we are to survive, let alone win a victory which will last. Admiral de Villaret Joyeuse commands the French fleet at Brest. Even now he is mustering ships and men for a final thrust to overthrow both our fleet and our country. He is a dedicated and intelligent man, and if he has entrusted this Lequiller with a special task, then it must be of some value, and Lequiller worthy of it!'
Bolitho thought suddenly of the signal gun, of the men dying before his eyes like felons on a gibbet.
Cavendish eyed him dispassionately. 'Maybe Lequiller is using new methods, too.' He shrugged with sudden impatience. 'But I am more concerned with his intentions. I believe that by now he will have joined with the other ships and is heading westward across the Atlantic. That would be the only explanation for my patrols failing to sight him.'
Bolitho said, 'The Caribbean, sir?'
'I think that is the most probable destination.' The vice-admiral turned towards Pelham-Martin. 'And what is your opinion, if any?'
Pelham-Martin came out of his thoughts with a jerk. 'Maybe he intends to attack the islands taken from the French by Sir John Jarvis, sir?' He dropped his eyes under Cavendish's fierce stare.
'He'd need a force three times the size to make that possible!' Cavendish leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. 'During the American Revolution Lequiller was often sighted in the southern Carribbean. He would have made good use of his time there to make friends and to store his intelligence for some later time.'
Bolitho said slowly, 'Most of the islands there are either Spanish or Dutch, sir. They are of course our allies, but it takes little to change sides with the war going as it is.'
Cavendish opened his eyes and watched him bleakly. 'True. There is little likelihood of the Dutch staying on our side if their own homeland is finally overrun by the common enemy.' He shrugged. 'And as for the Spanish, well they are of little help to our cause as it is. They are still brooding over Gibraltar perhaps, or dreaming of past glories.'
'Then, sir, I would suggest that Lequiller has another motive.' Bolitho tried to picture the sprawled line of islands which ran from east to west above the great mass of the southern Americas. It was almost as if he was thinking aloud. 'To remain our ally Spain needs to stay rich. Much of her wealth comes from the Americas. One such convoy of gold and silver plate is enough to sustain her for a whole year, maybe longer.'
Cavendish's cold eyes gleamed. 'Exactly! Also, if it fell into enemy hands it would be more use than ten regiments, as Lequiller must know better than most!'
Pelham-Martin said uneasily, 'It might take months to find Lequiller and bring him to action, sir…'
He got no further. For once Cavendish seemed unable to contain his dislike in front of his subordinates.
'Don't you ever see beyond your quarterdeck? If Lequiller can cause havoc with the Spanish and Dutch trade and supply routes there will be many who will see it as a sign for the future. God knows we are stretched thinly enough now. How long do you think our naval supremacy will last with the whole world against us?'
The anger seemed to tire him and he added wearily, 'Yours is the fastest ship available, Bolitho, that is until the others have returned from overhaul. I have told your Commodore to shift his pendant to Hyperion at once. Together with the two frigates you will sail for the Caribbean with all haste. Indomitable and Hermes with the sloops will follow you, but I want you there as soon as possible, is that clear?'
Pelham-Martin heaved himself to his feet. 'I should like to return to my ship, sir. There are things I must attend to.'
Cavendish remained seated. 'The French fleet will be out soon, and I cannot spare another frigate for your use.' He added in a sharper tone, 'Nor can I go with you myself for the same reason. I want Lequiller found and his ships taken or destroyed. I will have my written orders sent to Hyperion within the hour, by which time I will expect you ready to proceed. You will sail first to the Dutch island of St. Kruis. It has a good harbour and is well placed for you to watch over, the neighbouring islands. It is less than a hundred miles from the mainland and Caracas where most of the plate and bullion is loaded for shipment to Spain.'
He gave a curt nod of dismissal as the commodore left the cabin. Then almost to himself he said, 'It is quite a task which I have given him, Bolitho. One which requires each captain to think for himself, yet work in a team. Blockade is only half an answer. It postpones rather than decides, just as it punishes the weak and the innocent along with the guilty. The only way to win this war is to meet the enemy ship to ship, gun to gun, and man to man!'
He sighed and seemed to relax slightly.
'Is your ship ready, Bolitho? God knows she should be after a six months' refit.'
'I was fifty men under complement when I recommissioned, sir and I lost ten killed in battle with the frigate.'
The vice-admiral's eyes clouded over. 'Ah, yes, the frigate. I am glad you were able to avenge Ithuriel.' His tone hardened. 'Well, I can spare no men for you. You must obtain them as best you can.' Then he heaved himself to his feet and stared at Bolitho searchingly. 'I knew your father, and I am aware of your record. But for that, and the fact you dropped anchor before Lequiller's ultimatum, I might have found you guilty of cowardice.' He shrugged heavily. 'In any case, no matter what I might have believed, the Articles of War make small allowance for past achievements or private confidences. Forty years ago they shot Admiral Byng for making a mistake. They would think very little of hanging a mere captain if the example should serve to encourage others to greater efforts!'
Surprisingly, he smiled and held out his hand. 'Go to your ship, and good luck. We are now in 1795. It could be a profitable year for our cause. Or it could be a disaster. You belong to a generation of sea officers who are the
