Someone raised a cheer as first one and then the second cutter bumped alongside, and men scrambled down to them to bear a hand.
Sailing and pulling at the oars, it must have.been an unnerving job for the crews, Bolitho thought.
He waited by the quarterdeck rail, gripping his hands behind rum to prevent his impatience from sending him down to the entry port with the others.
He saw a sturdy figure limping aft and recognised him instantly.
'Mr. Plowman! Come over here!'
The master's mate leaned against the hammock nettings and tried to regain his breath.
'Glad to be 'ere, sir.'
He waved his arm towards the invisible land, and Bolitho saw that his hand was wrapped in a stained bandage, the blood soaking through it like black oil.
'Ad to lie low, even when we saw t' other boat stand in' inshore. Place was alive with pickets. We run into one of 'em. Bit of a fight.' He examined his bandaged fist. 'But we done for 'em.'
'And Mr. Veitch?' He waited for the inevitable.
But Plowman said, ' 'E's fine, sir. I left 'im ashore. 'E ordered me to find you an' report.'
Even the cabin lanterns seemed too bright after the strange moonscape on deck, and Bolitho saw that Plowman was filthy from head to toe, his face and arms scarred from rock and gorse.
'Have a drink.' Bolitho saw Farquhar and his first lieutenant, and behind them Pascoe, coming into the cabin. 'Anything you like.'
Plowman sighed gratefully. 'Then I’d like a measure o' brandy, if I may dare ask, sir.'
Bolitho smiled. 'You deserve a cask.' He waited in silence, watching Plowman's expression as he drank a complete goblet of Farquhar's brandy. 'Now tell me the news.' Plowman wiped his mouth with his wrist. 'It ain't good, sir.' He shook his head. 'We did like you said, and Mr. Veitch was fair amazed by what we saw. Just like you told us it would be, only more so.'
Farquhar snapped, 'ships?'
'Aye, sir. Thirty or more. Well-laden, too. An' there's a ship o' the line at anchor offshore, a seventy-four. An' two or three smaller ships. A frigate, an' a pair o' corvettes, like the Frenchie we done for with Segura.'
Farquhar said softly, 'What a find! A small armada, no less!'
Plowman ignored him. 'But that ain't all, sir. They’ve hauled a pair o' them new guns to the 'eadland.' He leaned heavily across the chart and jabbed it with his thumb. 'There. We thought for a bit they was unloadin' all the ships, but they just ferried these two beauties ashore. We met up with a shepherd at dawn. One of the lads won 'is confidence like, speaks a bit of the language. The locals don’tcare for the Frogs. They’ve bled the island white. An' the women, too, by th' sound of it. Anyway, he said that the ships are preparin' to leave. Goin' to Crete or somewhere, to wait for more ships.'
'De Brueys.' Bolitho looked at him gravely. 'Why did Lieutenant Veitch stay behind?' He had already guessed the answer.
'Mr. Veitch told me that 'e thinks you’ll attack, sir. Said you'd not let the Nicator go in on' er own.' He scowled. 'But for this mangy fist I’d 'ave stayed there with 'im.'
Bolitho said, 'Your return is of greater value to me. And I thank you.'
Veitch had seen it, right from the beginning. That without more ships they could not keep in contact with Nicator, nor could they reach her before dawn and the moment of attack.
Plowman added wearily as Bolitho refilled the glass, 'Mr. Veitch said 'e would try to 'elp, sir. He got three volunteers with 'im.' He gave a sad grin. 'All as mad as 'im, if you’ll pardon the liberty, sir, so I can't tell you no more.'
His head lolled with fatigue, and Bolitho said quietly, 'Tell Allday to help him to the sickbay and have his hand dressed. And see that both boat crews are rewarded in some way. '
He looked at their faces. Farquhar's set in a grim frown. Outhwaite's liquid eyes watching him with quiet fascination. And Pascoe, his black hair falling across one eye, as if he, too, had a scar to hide.
Bolitho asked, 'Well, Captain Farquhar, what is your opinion on this?'
He shrugged. 'But for Nicator s safety, I’d advise you to withdraw, sir. There is no sense in putting your honour before the loss of a squadron. We gambled on the French keeping all their precious artillery stowed in their holds, and relying on more 'conventional' weapons.' He glanced briefly at Plowman's sagging shoulder. He had fallen into an exhausted sleep. 'But if fellows like Plowman here, and Lieutenant Veitch, are prepared to throw their lives down the hawse, I suppose I will do the same!'
He looked calmly at his first lieutenant. 'Commodore's instructions, Mr. Outhwaite. One hot meal and a double ration oJ rum for all hands. After that, you may douse the galley fires, and then clear for action. Our people will sleep beside their guns tonight.' He looked at Bolitho. 'If sleep they can.'
Farquhar nodded curtly. 'Now, if you will excuse me, sir.
I have some letters to write.'
Bolitho looked at Pascoe. 'I wish you were in almost any other ship, Adam. In any place but here.'
Pascoe regarded him searchingly. 'I am content, sir.'.' Bolitho walked to the windows and stared at the silver glow across the water. Like rippling silk, the patterns changing endlessly. He thought of Farquhar writing his letters. To his mother? To the Admiralty?
He said, 'In my steward's keeping at Falmouth, Adam, there is a letter. For you.'
He felt Pascoe step beside him, and saw his reflection in the, thick glass. Like brothers in the strange
