The news must have reached higher authority by now. Even as far ahead as France. If the squadron was feeling its way, so, too, the enemy must be wondering at its intentions. He walked aft yet again and stared at the prize ship.
Lieutenant Fitz-Clarence was in command, no doubt relishing his unexpected promotion.
Herrick said, 'If Harebell doesn't return within a day, I fear we must assume her lost.' He rubbed his chin. 'And that’ll mean we will be without 'eyes'.' He added with sudden bitterness; 'Damn that Javal! I’ll wager he's away after some fat capture to line his pockets!'
Bolitho watched him thoughtfully. 'That is as may he. Or perhaps the whole squadron is destroyed?' He touched his arm and smiled. 'That was a joke, Thomas. But do not imagine I am untroubled.'
He turned as a tap came at the screen door. It was Pascoe, a stranger almost in his proper uniform.
'You sent for me, sir?'
'Yes. ' Bolitho gestured to a chair. 'Have you had any more time to think about your ordeal?' He saw the youth's dark eyes go distant and added, 'It could be important, Adam.'
Pascoe stretched his legs. 'I had the impression that the Spaniards are so willing to aid their ally that they will do anything but fight. They were using galley slaves, felons, anyone who could lift and carry to build defences and prepare ways of loading all manner of vessels.'
Bolitho looked at them and smiled. 'With the Earl of St. Vincent's ships watching Cadiz and the Biscay ports, I think it unlikely that all this is for England 's benefit.' He nodded firmly. 'This is what I intend. On to Toulon and the smaller French ports close by where, with luck, we shall meet with our other ships. Then south-east to Sicily where we can water our vessels and make discreet enquiries.' His smile broadened as he watched Herrick's doubt. 'I know, Thomas, the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies is at peace with France. It does not follow it is at war with us, eh?'
He looked at the open skylight as he heard the lookout's hail, 'Deck there! Sail on the larboard bow!'
Herrick stood up. 'If you will excuse me, sir.' He gave a shy grin. 'Though I fancy you still find it hard not to run on deck with the rest of us!'
Bolitho waited for him to leave and then said, 'And you, Adam, how are all the aches and pains?'
Pascoe grinned. 'I never knew a body had room for so many bruises.'
Feet padded overhead, and Bolitho could picture the midshipman of the watch being chased to the shrouds with the biggest telescope available. Harebell was obviously alone. No matter. One.more prize might have helped their esteem with the admiral, it would not have been worth risking their only sloop.
Pascoe' asked quietly, 'I would wish to ask something, sir?'
Bolitho faced him, seeing the determination, a touch of anxiety. 'You’ve earned the right to ask as you will.' Pascoe did not return his smile. 'The lady, Uncle.
Catherine Pareja. The one YQU-' He faltered. 'You knew in London.'
'Well?' He waited. 'What of her?'
'I was wondering. Did you take her home, I mean, to your house in Falmouth?'
Bolitho shook his head slowly. Seeing her face. Feeling her warmth, her need of him. 'No, Adam. Not to Falmouth., Pascoe licked his lips. 'I did not mean to pry. '
'It is all right.' Bolitho crossed the cheque red deck and gripped his shoulder. 'It is important to you, I can see that. But my feelings mean a lot to me, too.'
Pascoe tossed the hair from his eyes. 'Of course.' He smiled. 'I understand.' He hesitated again. 'I liked her. Which was why I-' Bolitho eyed him gravely. 'Which is why you crossed swords. For my name.'
'Yes.'
Bolitho walked to his desk and took out the broken sword. 'Take this. It was a comfort to me when everyone else thought you were dead.' He saw him holding it as if it was red-hot. 'But save it for the enemy, not for those who try to hurt you with words.'
He looked round as feet clattered down a companion ladder and seconds later Luce, who was apparently midshipman of the watch, hurried into the cabin and reported, 'Captain Herrick's respects, sir. It is Harebell in sight, and she will be in signalling distance within the half-hour, His eyes flickered towards Pascoe. 'No other sail in sight, sir.'
'Thank you, Mr. Luce.' Bolitho compared the pair of them. Pascoe was a year older than Luce, if that. He was glad they had each other's friendship in the teeming and often heartless world of a ship of the line. 'My compliments to the captain.'
He needed to go on deck, up to the foretop if necessary, despite his hatred of heights, to see what was wrong with Inch and his overdue sloop. He sighed. It was quite useless. While his own broad pendant remained above this or any ship he was bound to stay immovable, to keep his energies for decisions beyond ship-handling.
The others were watching him, and Pascoe asked, 'May I go with Mr. Luce?'
'Of course.' He watched them leave. Nothing changed. He had just completed writing his notes on the raid when Herrick came to the cabin again, his face relaxed into a smile. 'Harebell has signalled, sir. Two sail to the nor'-west, If I wronged Captain Farquhar, then this is the moment to admit it.'
Bolitho moved quickly to the chart, recalling the change of wind, the feel of sand and dust on his cheek as he had listened wretchedly to the Cornish marine's news about the impassable gully.
He said, 'Admit nothing, Thomas. Not even Farquhar could drive his ships that fast to get them to the nor'- west of us!'
He snatched up his hat. 'Inch must have lost his brig, but by God he's brought bigger fish to us today!'
Herrick hurried after him, his face working with fresh doubt and apprehension.
