On deck a bell chimed and feet shuffled around the poop skylight. At any second someone might enter.
Bolitho said harshly, 'You of all people ought to have known you might meet someone from the past.'
'I wanted to find something familiar where I could hide and wait until that ship reached England.' He nodded heavily. 'I just wanted to reach home once more. Nothing else seemed important.' He stood up suddenly and laid the glass on the desk. 'I am sorry about this. More so than I can say. I know you have your duty to do. I've had my luck. I'll not blame you now for putting me in irons until my trial.'
He fell back a pace as someone tapped the door.
Bolitho could feel his brother's eyes fixed on his face as he called, 'Enter!'
Midshipman Pascoe came into the cabin, a telescope beneath his arm. 'Mr. Roth's respects, sir. He wishes permission to take in a second reef. The wind is freshening from the nor'-east, sir.'
Bolitho looked away, the boy's voice ringing in his brain like one more part of the dream.
'Very well, Mr. Pascoe. I will come up directly.' He stopped him as he made for the, door. 'This is Mr. Selby, master's mate.' He faced his brother impassively. 'Mr. Pascoe distinguished himself greatly during the recent raid.'
As the door closed again he added, 'That boy has had more to bear from life than you know. His father disgraced him, and he now looks to me for trust and guidance, both of which I am proud to offer.'
'I do not understand?'
'I will not destroy that boy completely by arresting the man he now believes dead! Whose name is in Falmouth church beside my father's!' He saw his brother stagger but could not control his words. 'He walked right across Cornwall, alone and without help, just to see that name. Your name!'
Hugh's voice was hoarse. 'I did not know.' He looked up, his eyes suddenly desperate, 'His mother?'
'Dead. Even she had to give her body to some damned landlord to keep her son in clothes and food!'
'I really did not know.' There was no more strength in his voice. 'You must believe that!'
Bolitho swung round, his eyes blazing. 'I don't care what you knew or believed, d'you hear? I am captain of this ship, and you are Mr. Selby, master's mate in the larboard watch!' He saw his brother's face pale beneath the tan. 'If you imagined you could run away from the past, you were mistaken. The man who commands the frigate Spartan was also your prisoner. My second lieutenant and several of the hands are Cornishmen.' He shook his head. 'You are surrounded by the past, as 1 am!'
'Thank you for giving me the chance to…' His voice trailed away.
Bolitho walked to the stern windows and stared hard at the slow-moving Hermes.
'There was never any choice. If we reach England together I will see what can be done, but I make no promises, so remember that!' He gestured curtly to the door. 'Carry on, and report to the master.' In the glass of the nearest window he saw his brother's stooped shadow reach the bulkhead. He added quietly, 'And if you so much as whisper the truth to that boy I will personally have you hanged!'
The door closed and Bolitho threw himself heavily into the chair. How could this be happening? The commission might last for many more months, even years. It was unbearable, as it was unfair.
The door opened again and Inch asked anxiously, 'Did
Mr. Pascoe pass the request to take in another reef, sir?' Bolitho stood up, feeling his arms and hands trembling
in spite of his efforts to control them.
'Yes, thank you. I will come up.'
Inch walked beside him to the quarterdeck. 'Did Mr.
Selby give you any useful news, sir?'
Bolitho stared at him, caught off guard. 'News? What news?'
'I'm sorry, sir. I thought…' He quailed under Bolitho's fierce stare.
'Yes, I see.' Bolitho walked to the weather side and looked at the tautening rigging. 'Very little.'
As the pipes shrilled and the duty watch swarmed up the ratlines Bolitho stood unseeingly by the weather nettings, his fingers playing with the small locket inside his shirt.
When darkness reached the ships and the small stern lanterns showed their reflections like fireflies on the ruffled water he was still standing in the same place, his eyes clouded while he stared out into the darkness, and far beyond it.
Only when Gossett, heavy footed and smelling strongly of rum, came on deck to inspect the traverse board and speak with the helmsmen did the spell seem to break. Bolitho walked past them all without a word and entered his cabin.
Gossett watched him pass and rubbed his heavy jowl with sudden apprehension. Then he looked aloft at the reefed topsails and tapped the hour-glass with one massive finger.
A new day would wipe away the memories of the battle, he decided. There was not much that a change of wind and weather could not alter for any man.
13. RETURN OF THE 'SPARTAN'
Noon the following day found the depleted squadron one hundred and twenty miles east of Las Mercedes, out of sight of land, and leaning steeply to a brisk north-easterly. The sky was cloudless, and in spite of the wind the heat was almost unbearable, so that men not employed in working ship sought what comfort they could between decks, or in any patch of shadow they could find.
Bolitho walked to the poop ladder and watched the Hermes as she wallowed some two cables astern. With the wind sweeping almost directly across the larboard bow her yards were braced round at maximum angle, so that every sail showed its hard belly as if to push the ship right on to her beam ends.
He had just been addressing the newly acquired seamen, and had come aft feeling tired and strangely dispirited. As he had spoken to them he had tried to discover their reactions to his words, to find some spark of enthusiasm or resentment. There was probably more of the latter than anything, he had decided. The first flush of wild excitement at their unexpected rescue from unjust imprisonment had changed to doubtful acceptance, if not actual dismay. They were now faced with the prospect of serving in a King's ship, perhaps for years, and some would never live to know any other life at all.
Gone were the privileges of comfortable quarters and tolerant routine, of good pay with the chance to return to their homes at the end of each profitable voyage. Their resentment would find little sympathy amongst the Hyperion's company, for as was the way in the Navy, the attitude of the average seaman was that if it had happened to him, then why not to others?
But in Bolitho's mind any resentment was bad, and he had done his best to ease, if not dispel their apprehension. That he had failed left him feeling both weary and ill at ease, although he knew in his heart that but for his personal problems he might have found some last reserve to draw upon.
He turned his head to watch the midshipmen assembled on the lee side of the quarterdeck, their faces squinting with concentration as Gossett rumbled through the daily routine of instruction and explained still further the mysteries and rewards of using a sextant.
'Step lively, Mr. Pascoe!' The master sounded hoarse and a little irritable, and was no doubt thinking of the midday meal within the cool shadow of his own mess, and a richly deserved glass to wash it down. 'Show us 'ow you can 'andle it!'
Pascoe took the glittering sextant and stared at it thoughtfully.
Gossett groaned. 'Time's awastin'!' He beckoned with one huge fist. 'Mr. Selby, lay aft and show the young gennleman, I'm all but wore out!'
Bolitho found he was gripping the ladder's teak rail with all his strength as he watched his brother cross the deck and take the sextant from the boy's hands. He was too far away to hear what was said, but he could tell from the boy's intent expression, the occasional nods, that Hugh's quiet words were reaching their mark.
Lieutenant Stepkyne was officer of the watch and had been studying the instruction with obvious impatience. 'Don't take so much time over it, Mr. Selby!' His harsh voice made the boy glance at him with something like hatred. 'A lesson is a lesson aboard this ship. We don't expect individual tuition!'
'Aye, aye, sir.' Hugh kept his eyes down. 'I'm sorry, sir.'
