With a squeal of blocks the yards creaked ponderously above the decks, and as the wheel was hauled over and over Buzzard started to swing once again towards the open sea.
Javal said harshly, 'steer due east. Lay her as close as you dare to the headland.'
'By th' mark ten!'
Bolitho watched the land as it started to slip past the
. forecastle, the faint marks of white at its foot where the wind- drove the sea into beaches and small coves.
'Deck there! Sail on the weather bow! Comin' round the point! '
Javal sucked in air. 'Run out the larboard battery, Mr.
Ellis!' He added sharply, 'Belay that order! 'His face glowed faintly in a bright red flare which had just burst clear of the land. 'stand by to shorten sail!' To Bolitho he exclaimed, 'The schooner, by God! Mears has taken her!'
Even without a glass Bolitho could see the low-hulled vessel thrusting away from the encroaching land, her great sails rising like wings above the choppy wave crests. At her counter he saw the darker shapes of Buzzard's boats being towed astern, a lantern rising and dipping at her foremast to confirm the capture. Perhaps Mears feared that because of the delay, his failure to signal earlier, he might be met with a broadside rather than cheers.
Javal snapped, 'We will come about. Lay her on the starboard tack and steer sou' by west until we have more sea room. 'He glanced at Bolitho by the nettings. 'You will wish to rejoin the squadron, sir?'
'Yes.'
He walked clear of the busy seamen and marines as they ran to obey the pipe. It was over, and as far as he could tell, – without a shot being fired. He found he was shaking badly. As if he had been there with them.
When Buzzard leaned steeply on her new tack Bolitho saw the schooner following suit, her lee bulwark almost awash. She was certainly deep laden.
He said abruptly, 'Heave-to at your discretion, Captain. Signal your lieutenant to close within hailing distance.'
Javal eyed him doubtfully. 'Aye, sir. If you say so.' He saw Bolitho's expression and said no more.
Bolitho walked slowly to the nettings, shutting out the sounds of the unexpected preparations to heave-to once again. He did not even hear the squeak of halliards as the signal flags ran up the yards and broke to the wind. He was watching the boats surging along under the schooner's stern. The jolly boat was not one of them.
Lieutenant Mears had no intention of shouting his news from the captured schooner's deck. While Buzzard rolled heavily in short, steep waves he crossed the narrow gap between the two ships in his cutter, its sleek hull lifting and rearing like a dolphin until it was made fast to the frigate's chains.
In the stern cabin the sea's noises were muted, like surf booming in a long cave.
Bolitho kept his hands clasped behind him, his head lowered between the deck beams as Mears, still panting, told his story.
'We pulled under the headland as planned, sir. Then we separated. I took my boat direct for the schooner's seaward side, and Mr. Booth headed his around and under her bowsprit. There is no doubt that the schooner's master was expecting the weather to worsen and was anchoring for the night. Our suspicion he had sighted Buzzard was ill-founded.'
Bolitho asked quietly, 'And the jolly boat?'
Mears rubbed his eyes. 'Your lieutenant was ordered to take it to the western side of the headland and beach it. If the Dons had tried to send for help from the land, Mr. Pascoe's party would have been able to intercept them. '
Javal snapped, 'You took your damn time, Toby.'
The lieutenant shrugged limply. 'The first part went well.
There was only an anchor watch, and they didn't even raise a shout until our fellows were amongst 'em. No boarding nets, no swivel guns, they almost died of fear.' He hesitated, sensing the tension around him for the first time. 'We waited for the jolly boat to come around the point and join us again. When it failed to appear I sent Mr. Booth in the cutter.' He spread his hands helplessly. 'With dawn close by, and every minute adding to the chance of discovery, I dared not fire a signal until I had received news of the landing party. '
Javal nodded grimly. 'That was well said, Mr. Mears. Some would have left the few to save the many. '
Bolitho asked, 'What did your people discover?'
'It had been raining, sir.' Mears looked at the stern windows, streaked with salt and droplets of spray. 'As it is now. Booth found the beached jolly boat with its hull stove in and two seamen dead nearby. Another was lying in some dunes. They had all been killed by sword thrust, sir.' He fumbled inside his stained coat. 'Mr. Booth found this in the sand. I could not understand it. It is surely an admiral's sword-'
He broke off as Bolitho snatched the glittering hilt from him and held it to the windows. The blade was snapped like a carrot halfway from the ornate guard. It was like yesterday. Vice Admiral Sir Lucius Broughton on the splintered quarterdeck of his flagship. Handing his beautiful sword to an astonished Adam Pascoe and saying gruffly, 'Any damn midshipman who tackles the enemy with a dirk deserves it! Besides, a lieutenant must look the part, eh?'
He heard himself say, 'It was an admiral's once. It belongs to Mr. Pascoe.' He touched the stain on the hilt. Blood and wet sand. He added quietly, 'He would not part willingly with it.'
The others stared at him.
Then Mears said, 'Mr. Booth searched as long as he could, sir. There were many hoofmarks in the beach, leading from inland. He feared that his own party might be challenged at any moment, and I had given him a direct order to return to me if-'
