Pelham-Martin walked slowly into the sunlight adjusting his cocked hat. Bolitho watched him without emotion. The commodore did not seem to see anyone about him, and when he walked over a wide patch of dried blood where a man had died within feet of him he did not even falter.
Pelham-Martin said, 'When will you have a new topmast swayed up?'
Bolitho replied, 'Mr. Tomlin is already dealing with it, sir. We brought plenty of spare spars from Plymouth.' 'Lucky indeed, Bolitho.'
A seaman shouted, 'Boat approaching from the Dutchman, sir!'
Pelham-Martin frowned. 'Damn! I suppose I shall have to stay a while longer now!'
Inch hurried to the entry port, thankful for this unexpected interruption. He had seen the returning hardness in Bolitho's eyes, and had inwardly cursed Pelham-Martin for his stupidity and his ignorance. Did he never stop to consider how hard Bolitho had worked and sweated to get those spars from a dockyard which was more than well trained in withholding everything but the most meagre of ship's stores?
He called. 'The boat has a captain aboard, sir!' He blinked. 'No, sir, two captains!'
The commodore grunted. 'Coming to gloat over their part in all this, I shouldn't wonder.'
The boat hooked on to the chains, and as the pipes twittered and the marines' bayoneted muskets were brought to the present the first visitor appeared in the open port.
He removed his hat and looked slowly around the crowded main deck, his eyes pausing on the line of sewnup corpses, the splintered planking and all the litter of broken rigging and cordage. He was an elderly man, probably in his sixties, Bolitho thought, and the left sleeve of his coat was empty and pinned beneath a flashing gold order on his breast. His hair was almost white, but his skin was so tanned that it was almost mahogany in colour, and his step was as sure and light as a cat's.
Then he saw Peiham-Martin and stepped briskly to greet him. 'May I welcome you and your ships to St. Kruis! I am Piet de Block, Governor in the name of my country, and your ally!' His English was hesitant but extremely good. 'I was visiting another island and returned in time to see your gallant fight.' He paused with obvious emotion. 'I can understand what the decision must have cost, and with my own eyes I have witnessed some of your sacrifice. It was incredible! And now,' he waved his hat around the watching faces, 'now you can still find the strength and the sense of duty to prepare this welcome for me!'
Pelham-Martin swallowed hard and flushed. 'I bid you welcome, sir, and greetings from my Gracious Sovereign King George.' He glanced quickly at Bolitho before adding, 'My duty was plain, and I am indeed glad I was able to forestall the enemy's intentions.'
De Block nodded gravely. 'And this is Kapitein Willem Mulder of the Telamon. He is as eager for battle as your own men, but now I think it wiser to refit your ships first, is that not so?'
The Telamon's captain was slight and wiry, and as tanned as his governor. He, too, was studying the Hyperian's damage, but his face was more controlled than his superior's.
Pelham-Martin said, 'And this is my captain, Richard Bolitho.'
Bolitho stepped forward, conscious of the watching eyes, of Inch's obvious fury at Pelham-Martin's grand acceptance of credit, but above all of the Dutchman's firm handshake.
De Block studied him for several seconds without releasing his hand. He seemed to find an answer in Bolitho's strained features for he said suddenly, 'As I thought, Kapitein.' He paused. 'My deepest thanks.'
Pelham-Martin said abruptly, 'You speak very good English.'
'Well, there have been many wars.' De Block shrugged expressively. 'After I lost my arm I had plenty of time to meet with and learn your countrymen's ways and language.'
The commodore eyed him thoughtfully. 'You were a prisoner perhaps?' He shook his head indulgently. 'These things can happen in war.'
The Dutchman smiled. 'After I lost my arm I was put in charge of our English prisoners, sir.'
Bolitho coughed quietly. 'Perhaps the Governor would like to go to the cabin, sir?'
Pelham-Martin recovered from his sudden confusion and'glared at him. 'Quite sol'
But the island's governor shook his head. 'I would not hear of it. You will come ashore to my house immediately. Kapitein Mulder will remain aboard to give every help at our disposal.' He looked searchingly at Bolitho, the same expression of understanding in his deepset eyes. 'We are well stocked, and I think able to meet your needs.' He held out his hand again. 'We are in your debt. We will do our best to repay your courage.'
Then as the pipes shrilled once more he followed Pelham-Martin down into his boat alongside.
Bolitho stood by the port watching as the boat headed strongly for the shore. Most of the oarsmen were either coloured or half-castes, but there was no doubting their bearing or discipline.
Mulder said quietly, 'You look tired. It cannot be easy to serve a man so lacking in understanding.'
Bolitho stared at him, but already the other captain was looking aloft to where some seamen were reeving lines in readiness for swaying up the new topmast.
He said shortly, 'Your Governor has been here a long time, I suppose?'
Mulder nodded, his eyes slitting against the glare as he watched with professional interest the sure-footed topmen working high above the deck.
'Thirty years to be exact. Both as a serving officer and then as Governor. St. Kruis is his home now, as it is for me.' He seemed unwilling to continue the discussion and added briskly, 'Now tell me, what do you require?'
Bolitho smiled gravely. It was, after all, better to talk as two captains rather than two subordinates. It was safer, and would certainly be more rewarding at this stage.
De Block may not have realised that the ceremonial guard was not, indeed, intended for his benefit, but it was obvious that he more than understood Pelham-Martin's part in the actual battle. He was shrewd and he was wise, and no stranger to local affairs and strategy. Bolitho hoped that Pelham-Martin was not so foolish that he would underestimate the one-armed Governor of St. Kruis.
An hour after Mulder had departed with his list of requirements the first boatloads of provisions started to arrive alongside. Like the governor's bargemen, the inhabitants of St. Kruis were a mixture of every race in the Caribbean. Laughing and chattering they swarmed aboard, showing sympathy for the wounded as they were carried in boats to more comfortable quarters ashore, and amusement to the seamen who crowded around them, touching them and using their own versions of. language and gesticulation to break down the last barriers of strangeness.
Inch said, 'It is like another world, sir.'
Bolitho nodded. He had been thinking the same thing.
The Dutch flag flew above the ancient ship and the town, but the island's inhabitants had seemingly become so interbred over the years, so dependent on their own resources, they would find it hard to bend to anther's domination. No matter who it was.
Allday came aft and knuckled his forehead. 'Any orders for me, Captain?'
Bolitho stretched his arms and saw the rent in his sleeve left by the musket ball. Was it possible? Could he have been so near to death?
He said, 'Take the gig, Allday, and go ashore. Keep your ears and eyes open, understand?'
Allday's features stayed expressionless. 'Understood, Captain.' Then he grinned. 'I will be on board again in one hour.'
Bolitho thought suddenly of fresh water and a clean shirt on his back. With a nod to Inch he strode aft to the chartroom.
Commodores and governors could discuss high policy, he, thought grimly. But the Alldays of this world often reached the bones of the matter in half the time.
For the Hyperion's company the days which followed their arrival at St. Kruis were unlike anything they had ever known. From dawn to dusk the work of repairing damage went on with hardly a pause, but because of the lush surroundings and friendly atmosphere they still found time to lend their attentions to other, more interesting activities. The memory of the battle, even the scars of it, had all but vanished, and as carpenters and seamen worked above the deck or deep in the hull, others, luckier or craftier, dragged out their time ashore collecting fresh water and fruit, and took every advantage to better their
Imuu relations with the local women.
At the beginning of the third week the Indomitable and the Hermes with their two attendant sloops dropped anchor in the bay, and Bolitho wondered just how long it was going to take Pelham-Martin to decide on a definite course of action. So far the commodore had done little, other than send the two frigates on separate patrols to the
