servant, through the open skylight, and then sauntered down to the quarterdeck where the afterguard were still busily making up halliards and securing the braces after trimming the sails.
Pascoe shook his head. 'Advantage of you? When that day comes Bonaparte will be crowned King of England!' Allday grinned. 'Now then, Mr. Pascoe, it's not fair to take advantage of a poor sailorman!'
Pascoe shook his head. 'Advantage of you? When that day comes Bonaparte will be crowned King of England!' Gilchrist's shadow fell between them.
'I believe that you have been given extra duties, Mr. Pascoe?' He stared at him flatly. 'By the captain?'
'Yes, sir.' Pascoe regarded him without expression.
'Then be so good as to get on with your tasks, Mr. Pascoe.' He glanced at Allday. 'And not waste time with the commodore's coxswain.' He tapped one foot gently on the deck. 'A good seaman no doubt, but hardly fitting company for a King's officer, eh?'
Allday saw the sudden flash of anger in the youth's eyes and said hastily, 'My fault, sir.'
Gilchrist's mouth twisted very slightly. 'Really. I do not recall asking for the opinion of a common seaman. I am not accustomed to passing the time with-'
They all turned as Bolitho appeared beside the wheel. He said harshly, 'In that case, Mr. Gilchrist, I would be obliged if you would take a glance at the weather forebrace and attend to it, instead of, what was it you said? Passing the time in idle gossip!'
Gilchrist opened and shut his mouth like a landed fish… Then he said, 'At once, sir.'
Herrick appeared by the rail. 'Is something wrong, sir?' Bolitho looked past them, his eyes angry. 'Very, Captain. And when I discover what it is I will be glad to let you know. ' He' glared at the others. 'All of you!'
'show me again on the chart.'
Bolitho stood beside the cabin table as Javal leaned across it. The other captains waited in silence, their bodies swaying while Lysander lifted and dipped heavily in irregular troughs.
Javal explained, 'sighted her at first light, sir.' His tanned fingers cradled the Spanish coastline as if to trap what he had seen. 'small vessel. Schooner most like.' He glanced calmly at Bolitho, his greasy hair still showing droplets of spray as.evidence of the haste with which he had been pulled to the flagship by his boat's crew. 'I expect her master took sight of Buzzard and thought prudence to be more use than valour.'
Farquhar did not try to hide his disappointment. 'A schooner, you say? God damn it, Javal, I’d hardly think it proper to run for the squadron because of a mere toy!'
Javal ignored him, his dark eyes still on Bolitho. 'I have good men for lookouts. I reward 'em from my pocket if they do their work to my satisfaction. I find that more profitable than flogging 'em for failing in their vigilance.' His eyes seemed to flicker towards Osiris's captain. 'Unlike some.'
Herrick stepped nearer, as if to stop a flare-up of tempers.
'Then tell us, Javal. My sailing master assures me that a wind is close by, and I’ve little room for passengers. Especially the squadron's captains.'
Javal showed his teeth. Like the man, they were jagged.
She was running with the wind and had all canvas spread. Yet she was making precious little headway. ' He looked at Bolitho. 'strange for a Mediterranean schooner, I’d have thought, sir?'
Bolitho leaned above the chart, his mind.going back and forth over Javal's report. With Buzzard and Harebell sweeping ahead and to windward of the squadron it was unlikely they would have failed to sight the schooner had she over- reached them along the coast.
He saw Javal's strong fingers touch a point on the chart. Almost to himself he said, 'Out of Malaga, you think?'
Javal nodded. 'Almost certain, sir. And heading to the east'rd. In my opinion she’ll remain at anchor here,' he tapped the chart again, 'until nightfall, or such time as she believes her way is safe.'
Bolitho walked quickly to the stern windows and watched the slow caress of wind over the blue water. Here and there, just the merest dab of white foam. Grubb was right. The wind was returning as he had prophesied.
Captain Probyn said thickly, 'This damn schooner might be anything at all. Or nothing. I agree with Farquhar, there's no.point in-'
He turned as Farquhar strode to Bolitho's side, his hand- some features suddenly eager.
'I think there is a point after all.' Farquhar watched Bolitho's profile. 'The Dons have an arsenal at Malaga, I believe? A great foundry for artillery?'
Bolitho smiled slightly, his eyes searching. 'Yes. I could be mistaken, as could Captain Javal's lookouts, but a coastal schooner makes good speed, unless well laden.'
He returned to the table, the others crowding on either side of him.
'The Dons will wish to show their ally they can help in any future campaign against us. Bonaparte needs armaments of every kind, and the waters around Malaga dictate that small ships be used to carry just such weapons.' He straightened his shoulders, feeling the wound beneath his coat like a bum. 'It is a small beginning, but it is sooner than} had hoped. We will close the land at dusk and cut her out. At best we may gain information. At worst will seize another vessel for the squadron, eh?' He could not contain his smile of excitement. It was like a tonic. 'Does anyone not agree?'
Probyn shook his head, his features still brooding over Farquhar's change of heart.
Javal said, 'I know the bay where she is anchored.' He was thinking aloud. 'After dark we should be able to take her with little trouble.'
Bolitho could sense them waiting for his next words. He said, 'You will take charge, Captain Javal. I will make a' signal to Harebell to assume your duties until this affair is settled.' He looked at Herrick. 'I will transfer to Buzzard with some of our own people, say twenty or so good hands. Seamen, not marines. I want no boots and
