near thing. He had almost not made the decision. Perhaps Grubb was right about miracles.
He sought out Veitch's figure on the quarterdeck. 'stand by to receive the commodore!'
Moments later Bolitho clambered up and through the entry port. His face was grimy with smoke and his elbows were showing through his sleeves, but he was smiling in a way which Herrick had almost forgotten.
Bolitho said, 'That was a fine piece of timing, Thomas!' 'I almost obeyed your orders, sir.' Herrick grinned awkwardly. 'Then I remembered what you would have done in my place.'
Bolitho threw back his head and took several deep breaths. It had been very close. Leroux's men had fired three heated balls into the other battery, and he had thought they might surrender. But they had been urged on and rallied again and again by a slim, fanatical officer. Allday had said he was the camp's commandant. The Spaniard had also managed to keep up an accurate bombardment with his seaward cannon, and at least two balls had hit Lysander, maybe more.
Then, as the ship had seemed about to tack away from the merciless cannon fire, one of Leroux's heated shots had ploughed into the battery's powder store. It had ended there, and he had seen the Spanish captain torn apart in the blast, his sword still waving in the air.
He turned and watched as Pascoe limped through the port, accompanied by cheers and laughter as some of the gun crews clustered round to slap his shoulders or point at his wine stained uniform.
Herrick shook his head. 'And I doubted if we could do it, sir. '
Bolitho eyed him sadly. 'With men like these I could do just about anything, Thomas.'
Allday walked past, his bare feet held painfully away from ring-bolts and gun tackles.
Bolitho unbuckled his tarnished sword and handed it to him. 'Here, Allday. I’ll be down directly.'
Allday looked at him, the strain coming back to his face. 'Aye, sir.'
Bolitho added quietly, 'I’ll take it amiss if the level in my decanters is still high when I examine them. 'He watched' him fondly. 'I’m grateful for your safety.'
Herrick waited until Allday had vanished through the cabin hatch before saying, 'It is the first time I have known him robbed of a reply, sir.'
Bolitho watched the marines climbing or being hauled bodily through the port, the looks of bewilderment, pain and sheer pleasure at being safe and alive. He could feel his own wildness ebbing away, and imagined what it had been like for Pascoe and Allday.
He shook himself from' his thoughts. 'Well, Captain Herrick, get the boats secured and signal our prize to up- anchor and take station to lee'rd.' He clapped him lightly on the shoulder, his smile returning' 'We will rejoin the squadron directly.'
Bolitho waited in silence until Herrick had completed his examination of the chart. Through the stern windows he could see the captured Spanish transport wallowing heavily in Lysander's wake, and wondered for the hundredth time at his decision not to send her to Gibraltar as another prize.
Herrick straightened his back and looked at him. 'J agree, sir. According to our calculations we are standing into the channel between Spain and the island of Ibiza. Mr. Grubb assures me that CapeSan Antonio is some twenty-five miles off the larboard beam.'
Bolitho leaned across the chart and studied the scattered bearings and soundings along the Spanish coastline. Two days since Herrick had sailed into the bay to rescue them before ordering Inch's Harebell in hot pursuit of the remaining brig. Either the brig was faster than she had appeared, or Inch had lost his sense of direction. The latter was more than likely, he decided.
Herrick said bluntly, 'I can discover no reason why we have not met with the squadron, sir.' His eyes remained steady as he added, 'Captain Farquhar knew very well that we might need support.
Bolitho walked to the stern windows and watched the Spanish ship's foresail billowing in the uncertain wind. She was a strange catch. Filled to the deck seams with powder and shot, with fodder for horses and mules, and enough tents to shelter an army, she remained a mystery. She was named Segura, and once clear of the land he had sent for her master, a squat, furtive looking man who had been openly dumbfounded by Bolitho producing a letter which Javal's men had brought from the captured schooner.
The Spanish master had insisted in halting English that he did not know his ultimate destination. Indeed, there was nothing in his quarters to prove otherwise, and unless he had hurled his orders overboard at the first sign of danger, he was as much in the dark as his captors.
He did not seem like a clever liar, He had admitted that he had been told to take his cargo to a rendezvous in the Gulf of Valencia where he could expect an escort and maybe other merchant vessels under charter for the military. He had pleaded that he was a poor sailor who had no wish to become involved in war. The Spanish commandant who had been in charge of loading his vessel had given him instructions which
would place him under French control. There were many vessels, the master had said, which the French were using throughout the Mediterranean to support their newly-founded outposts.
Should he ignore this unexpected catch? If some sort of rendezvous did lie ahead, it would be better to re-form the squadron before making a new intrusion into enemy waters.
But Farquhar was not here. There was little variation in wind, nothing in fact which should have prevented the other ships from making contact.
He said slowly, 'Perhaps Captain Farquhar was involved with the enemy.' 'Perhaps.' Herrick sounded doubtful. 'But the fact remains, sir, Harebell has not returned, with or without a prize, and we are alone. Very much so.'
Bolitho nodded. 'True. I think we will maintain the present course. Farquhar may decide for reasons of his own to rejoin us closer to our final destination. ' He ran his fingers over the chart and the area marked Golfe du Lion. 'The French are stirring up an ants' nest, Thomas. They have more in mind than invading England, I think.' He moved his hand to the shores of Africa. 'I am certain it will be here.'
He thought suddenly of the vivid flash above the ramparts as Leroux's men had fired a glowing ball into the Spanish powder store. In this short while how his men had changed. They had rarely hesitated, and he had been moved by their efforts even when the attack had seemed hopeless.
