standing alone, England would not hesitate to act for her own people.
An hour later he was in a carriage with Inskip being driven to the Palace.
It was late and the streets almost empty. More like the setting for an assassination than an enquiry, he thought. Allday had pleaded to come with him, but Inskip had been adamant.
`Just you, Bolitho. That is an order.' He had been unable to resist adding, 'Even you should find this one difficult to mould to suit your requirements!'
Through some gates and then the carriage halted by a narrow side entrance.
Stamping snow from their shoes they were ushered through several doors and into another world. A fairyland of glittering chandeliers and great paintings along the_ walls. Sounds of music and feminine voices, – a place of power and absolute comfort.
But that was as near as they got. They were shown into a small but beautifully decorated room with a blazing fire and walls completely lined with books.
One man was waiting for them. He was elegant like the room, and beautifully clothed in blue velvet. He had heavy gold cuffs which all but reached his elbows, and had the air of a man who never acted hastily or without dignity.
He studied Bolitho thoughtfully, his face almost in shadow. Then he said, `The Adjutant General is not able to be here. He has gone to the mainland.' He spoke with barely an accent, his tone almost caressing in the warm room.
Then he continued, 'I will deal with this matter, RearAdmiral Bolitho. As his aide I am well versed in the whole affair.'
Inskip started to speak. `The fact is, sir, that…'
One hand moved up, like a priest about to offer a blessing, and Inskip fell silent.
`Now, let me say this. You saved those six English ships by your action. In their turn they saved you by being there. Had you attacked a French vessel in Scandinavian waters, no matter upon what ideal, neither you nor your ship would have reached England again, be certain of that. Your war is with France, not with us. But we must exist in a world turned upside down by London and Paris, and we shall have no hesitation about drawing our swords to protect what we hold dear.' His voice softened. 'That is not to say I do not understand, Admiral. I do, better than you realize perhaps.'
Bolitho said, 'Thank you for, your understanding, sir. We are an island race. For a thousand years we have had to defend ourselves against attackers. People at war too often forget the rest, and for that I apologize, sir.'
The man turned to the fire, saying gently, 'I think my own
people invaded your country a few times in the past?'
Bolitho smiled. 'Aye, sir. They still say that the girls on the
north-east coast got their flaxen hair from the Viking invaders!' Inskip cleared hs throat nervously. 'In that case, sir, may I
take Rear-Admiral Bolitho with me?'
'Please do.' He did not offer his hand. 'I wanted to meet you. To see what sort of man you are.' He gave a brief nod. 'I hope that if we meet again it will be under happier circumstances.'
Bolitho followed Inskip and two footmen down the same passageway, his mind still in a whirl.
He said, 'I believe I might have fared worse with his superior. I think this one just wanted me out of his country.'
Inskip took his cloak from a footman and waited for the cold air to greet him through. the open door.
'Quite possibly, Bolitho.' He glanced at him wryly. 'That was the Crown Prince himself!' He shook his head and walked towards the carriage. 'Really, Bolitho, you've such a lot to learn!'
Captain Neale entered the cabin, his hat tucked beneath one arm.
'I thought you would wish to know, sir. We have cleared the Sound and are standing into the Kattegat.' He looked both tired and elated as he added, 'Our escorts have gone about and left us.'
Bolitho stood up and walked aft to the windows. The snow had completely dispersed and the water looked hard grey and uninviting. The Danes had taken no' chances. The Styx had been followed by two frigates from the moment she had weighed, and wlien Bolitho had been driven down to the jetty he had seen soldiers manning the artillery near the fortress. Not a threat. A warning perhaps.
'Thank you.'
Bolitho listened to the doleful clank of pumps, the muffled sounds of hammers and saws as•the ship's company continued with the repairs of the short, savage engagement.
It would mean that Styx would have to be sent to England where she could carry out a proper and more lasting overhaul. She had earned it, as had her whole company.
He said, 'I shall feel at a loss aboard my flagship again. Like a horse in a larger field!' He became serious. 'I have completed a full report for you to carry to England. Your part in it will reach the proper authority.'
Neale smiled. 'Thank you, sir.'
'And now, I'll leave you in peace to run your command as you will and carry me to the squadron as quickly as possible.'
Neale began to withdraw, then said, 'My first lieutenant is very pleased with the new hands that he took from the merchantmen, sir. All prime seamen, although at this moment they seem uncertain what is happening, or whether they have exchanged one hell for another.'
The following morning, as Bolitho was finishing his breakfast, one which Ozzard described as more fitting for a prisoner of war, Neale came down to report that his lookouts had sighted a sail, confirmed almost immediately as the frigate Relentless.
Almost before she had topped the horizon the Relentless was hoisting signals to be seen and repeated by the sloop-of-war Lookout to the remainder of the squadron.
Bolitho could imagine their feelings. Herrick's patrols would have sighted the released merchantmen, and what he had not discovered from them he would have guessed.
A first blood for the new squadron. Something to brag about when the weather got a man down and the food was too vile even to discuss.
Later when Bolitho went on deck he noticed that Allday had preceded him with his sea-chest, as if he too was more than eager to be getting back to the Benbow.
He saw Pascoe and the small midshipman, Penels, standing on the larboard gangway pointing towards the ships, and then as the anchored squadron hove slowly into view he saw him turn and look aft, his expression puzzled.
Neale said, 'Hand me a glass.' He trained it beyond the other frigate as she went gracefully about and steered back towards the squadron. 'Captain Herrick is prepared to weigh, it seems.' He handed the glass to Bolitho and watched his reactions.
Bolitho levelled the telescope on the Benbow's shining hull as she swung tightly to her cable. Neale was right. The sails were loosely brailed up and not furled neatly as he might have expected. The cable was all but hove short, as were those of the other two-deckers. He felt suddenly uneasy but said as calmly as he could, 'We must be patient.'
Neale nodded doubtfully and then called, 'Get the royals on her, Mr Pickthorn! We are in a hurry this morning!'
The Benbow's signal midshipman lowered his telescope and reported, 'The squadron has weighed, sir!'
Bolitho gripped the hammock nettings and watched first one and then the next ship heeling over to the wind, sails filling and emptying until they had completed their manoeuvre. Wolfe, the first lieutenant, was doing most of the work on the quarterdeck, which was not Herrick's_way at all, and gave some hint of his anxiety.
It had been barely fifteen minutes since Bolitho had clambered through the entry port, fifteen minutes of bustle and outward confusion while the seamen had dashed out on the yards or hauled at halliards and braces as if they had been timed to act at the very moment of his appearance.
In between his many duties, Herrick had said, 'A courier brig came from the Nore, sir. Her commander had despatches for Admiral Damerum, but of course his squadron had already gone its different ways.' Some of his anxiety had left his face as he had added thankfully, 'By God, it is good to have you back, sir. I was at my wits' end as to what course to take.'
Piece by piece, in between exasperating delays while Herrick ordered a change of tack or the reduction of sail
