in those far-off times that he had looked forward to a command of his own more than anything else. Until it became a real possibility. He smiled at the memory, and two midshipmen seeing his face exchanged awed glances as their captain paced back and forth apparently oblivious or indifferent to the shouts and scurrying figures around him.
Now Herrick had that command. Better late than never, and more than richly deserved, even if she was the old sixty-four, Impulsive. Herrick would be joining the squadron, too, when his ship was overhauled at Portsmouth.
He heard Inch stammering with anger as a man caught his foot on a, hatch coaming and slithered into a master's mate, bringing him down with a crash on the tilting deck.
It was hard to realise that when he met Herrick again it would all be different. Two captains with individual problems and not the common bond of keeping one ship alive. Herrick always had such a questioning mind and a complete understanding of what Bolitho needed.
Bolitho shut the thought from his mind. It was pure selfishness to wish Herrick here with him.
He looked at Inch and asked mildly, 'Are you satisfied?'
Inch stared round anxiously. 'I-I think so, sir.'
'Good. Now turn the hands to and put extra lashings on the boats. It will keep them from mooning at the bulwarks until England is out of sight.'
Inch nodded and then grinned awkwardly. 'It was not too badly done, sir, I thought?' He dropped his eyes under Bolitho's stare. 'I=I mean… '
'You wish to know what I think of your efforts, Mr. Inch?' Bolitho saw Gossett keeping his face like a mask. 'I thought that considering only half of the men on each yard were doing more than holding on for their lives, and taking into consideration there was a five minute interval between each mast, I would say it was a fair beginning.' He frowned. 'Do you see it so, Mr. Inch?'
Inch nodded humbly. 'Aye, sir.'
Bolitho grinned. 'Well, that is something, Mr. Inch!'
Gossett called, 'Ready to alter course, sir!'
The headland, and indeed most of the shoreline, had disappeared into the grey murk, but the wind was as steady as ever, whipping the crests from the waves and cascading spray above the weather rail like tropical rain.
'Bring her up to a point, Mr. Gossett. We will wear ship in four hours and run with the wind in our coat-tails!' He saw Gossett nod cheerfully. 'We may have to reef before much longer, but I imagine you want to see how she behaves under full canvas?'
He looked at Inch. 'I am going to my cabin. I am sure you do not need me for the moment?' He turned and walked quickly towards the poop before he could reply. Inch had got over the first part quite well. It was only fair to give him his head in open water without his captain watching every move and decision. And Gossett would be quick to see if anything really serious was about to
happen.
He saw some of the unemployed seamen watching him as he ducked below the poop and made for his cabin. First impressions were all important and he had to appear quite unconcerned even though he was straining his ears to listen to the creak and whine of shrouds and stays as the ship plunged her way indifferently almost into the teeth of the wind. Faintly he heard Tomlin bellow, 'Not that 'and! Yer right 'and, I said! The one you fills yer face with!' A pause. ''Ere, let me show you, you clumsy maggot!' Bolitho half smiled. Poor Tomlin, it was starting already.
A marine sentry snapped at attention outside the stern cabin, his eyes unblinking beneath his shako. Bolitho closed the door and leaned his back against it, thankful to be alone for just a few precious moments.
For the remainder of the forenoon and well into the afternoon watch the Hyperion drove steadily down channel, her yards bending like great bows as she heeled to the blustering offshore wind. Bolitho spent more time on the quarterdeck than he had first intended as one crisis after another called him from his cabin. Inch had managed to set the topgallants, and under the great pyramids of straining canvas the ship was heeling over at an almost permanent angle, so that working aloft seemed even more hazardous than before to the men on the lee side. Looking down from their dizzy perches the- ship appeared to have shrunk in size, while below them there was nothing but the angry wavecrests creaming and spitting from the labouring hull. One man clung to the fore topgallant yard and would not move at all. Or rather he could not, and his fear was greater than that of an enraged bosun's mate who clung to the mast cursing and threatening, all too aware of his opposite number on the mainmast who was calling insults to the delight of his nimble-footed topmen.
Eventually Inch sent a midshipman who had already displayed a great agility aloft to fetch the wretched man down, and Bolitho had come on deck just as both had arrived on deck breathless and gasping with exertion.
Lieutenant Stepkyne had yelled, 'I'll see you flogged for that, you gutless doltl'
Bolitho had called, 'Bring that man aft!' Then to Inch, 'I'll not have a man terrified to no good purpose. Get one of the older hands to go aloft with him now.'
As the man in question had stood shivering below the quarterdeck ladder Bolitho had asked, 'What is your name?'
The man had muttered thickly, 'Good, sir.'
Stepkyne had been plucking at his belt with impatience and had said quickly, 'He's a fool, sir!'
Bolitho had continued calmly, 'Well, Good, you must go back to that yard now, do you understand?' He had seen the man peer upward at the foremast again. The yard was over a hundred feet above the deck. 'There's no shame in fear, lad, but there's danger in showing it.' He had watched the mixed emotions on the man's pinched features. 'Now off with you.'
The man went, and Inch had said admiringly, 'Well, that was something, sir.'
Bolitho had looked away as the frightened seaman commenced to climb up the vibrating ratlines. 'You lead men, Mr. Inch. It never pays to torment them.' To Stepkyne he had added, 'We are still shorthanded and need every fit man we can get. To flog that one senseless seems rather pointless, wouldn't you agree?'
Stepkyne had touched his hat and strode forward again to supervise his men.
To Inch Bolitho had continued, 'There's no easy way. There never was.'
At six bells it was time to wear ship and the whole business started all over again. Dazed and bruised, with bleeding fingers and faces tight with strain the new men were led or dragged out along the yards to shorten sail, for the wind was freshening every minute, and although the land was only ten miles abeam it was hidden in mist and spray.
Bolitho made himself stay silent as he watched the frantic efforts to obey his orders. Time and time again some men had to be shown what to do, even had halyards or braces put into their hands while Tomlin and his assistants scampered from one piece of confusion to another.
Then at last even Gossett seemed satisfied, and with the men straining and sliding at the braces the Hyperion turned her bows to the southward, the wind battering across her quarter with relentless force so that two additional men had to be sent to the wheel.
But she was enjoying it, Bolitho thought. Even shortened down to topsails she was leaning forward and down, plunging her bowsprit towards the invisible horizon in great sweeping thrusts as each successive roller cruised against her fat flank and then broke high over her tumblehome in a welter of frustrated spray.
He gripped the hammock nettings and looked astern, even though he knew there was nothing to see. But somewhere back there was the rugged coast of Cornwall, with his own Falmouth a bare twenty miles to westward. The big house below the bulk of Pendennis Castle would be waiting for Cheney's return. For the birth of their child which he would not see for some time to come.
Another wave roaring hissing over the weather gangway, and he heard Gossett murmur, 'A second reef 1 be needed shortly, I'm thinkin'. '
Pipes shrilled as the watch below was dismissed at long last, and Bolitho said, 'Keep me informed.' Then he made his way aft once more.
The big stern cabin looked warm and friendly after the windswept quarterdeck. The deckhead lanterns swung in busy unison and cast strange shadows across the green leather chairs and the bench seat below the windows, the old polished desk and table which gleamed in the lamplight like new chestnuts. He stood by the broad windows staring at the distorted panorama of leaping waves and flying spectres of spray. Then he sighed and sat down at his desk and looked at the pile of papers which his clerk had left for his. inspection. But for once he found he had no stomach for it, and the realisation troubled him.
The door opened silently and Allday padded into the cabin, his stocky body appearing to lean at a grotesque
