He exclaimed, 'I want you to take the house in Falmouth. Everything. There is a letter…'
Pascoe looked desperately at Allday. 'Oh God, I cannot bear it.'
Allday said brokenly, 'He'll be all right, won't he?'
His words shocked Pascoe into reality. He had never known
Allday show doubt, in fact he had always looked to the burly
coxswain for assurance in the past.
He gripped Allday's sleeve. 'Be certain of it.'
Bolitho lay on the table, seeing little beyond the circle of swaying lanterns.
He had always expected it to be swift when it found him. One instant in battle, the next in death. But not like this, a useless cripple to be pitied or ridiculed.
Loveys said calmly, 'I will not deceive you, sir. You are in mortal peril of losing your leg. I will do my best.'
A hand came round Bolitho's head and the man placed a pad between his teeth. It was sodden with brandy.
Loveys said, `Bite well, sir.'
Bolitho felt the terror rising like a phantom. Fear that the moment was here and now, and that he would show it in front of all the unseen watchers.
Fingers gripped his arms and legs like manacles, and he saw Loveys' right shoulder draw back and then come down suddenly, the pain exploding in his thigh like molten lead.
He tried to move his head from side to side, but Loveys' men knew their trade well. On and on, the agony spreading and probing, cutting, and hesitating whenever the ship gave an unexpected roll.
Through the haze of agony and fear he heard a voice call, ''Old on, Dick! Not long now!'
The interruption by the unknown sailor or marine gave Loveys the seconds he needed.
With a final twist of his thin wrist he gouged the flattened musket ball from the blackened flesh and dropped it in a tray.
His senior assistant murmured, ''E's fainted away, sir.'
'Good.' Loveys made another, deeper probe. 'One more piece.' He watched the man swab away the blood. 'Hold him fast now.'
Herrick approached the table slowly, his men parting to let him through. It,was wrong to see Bolitho like this, naked and helpless. But in his heart he knew Bolitho would have it no other way. He had to clear his throat before he could speak.
'Is it done?'
Loveys snapped his fingers for another dressing. 'Aye, sir, for the present.' He gestured to the tray. 'The ball split one of his buttons and drove it and some fabric deep into the wound.' He met Herrick's anxious gaze. 'You and I have been in the King's service for a long time, sir. You know what can happen. Later I may regret that I did not remove the leg here and now.'
Herrick saw Bolitho stir, heard him moan quietly as a man removed the pad from his mouth.
He asked, 'Can we move him?'
Loveys signalled to his men. 'To my sick-bay. I dare not risk a longer journey.'
As they carried him into the shadows of the orlop Loveys seemed to thrust him momentarily from his mind. He pointed to a man whose head was swathed in bandages. `Get him!' Then to Herrick he added simply, `This place, these conditions, are all I have, sir. What do the Admiralty expect of me?'
Herrick walked past the man who was next on the table. To Pascoe he said, 'I'd take it as a favour if you'd stay with him.' He selected his words carefully, sensing Pascoe's sudden anxiety as he added, 'If things go badly, I need to know at once.' He looked at the young lieutenant gravely. 'And be will want to know you are dose by.'
He turned on his heel and beckoned to Browne. `Come. We'll walk through the gundecks and speak with our people. They did well today, bless 'em.'
Browne followed him towards the companion ladder, to the cleansing air of the upper deck.
Under his breath he said, `And so did you, Captain Herrick, and I know what it is costing you at this very moment.'
When Herrick eventually returned to the quarterdeck the work was still under way. Aloft and below men were splicing and cutting wood for repairs under Wolfe's watchful eye.
Speke, who had taken over the watch, touched his hat and said, 'Indomitable has rigged a jury-mast for her mizzen, sir, and the squadron is under command.'
It was strange, Herrick thought, he had not even considered his sudden authority of overall responsibility. Nor did it seem to matter now. He clenched his jaw as a man cried out pitifully from the lower gundeck. Then he took a telescope and levelled it on the other ships. The line was uneven, and the sails were more holes than canvas. But Herrick knew that given time ships could be put to rights, their hurts repaired. He thought of the terrible scene on the orlop. With people it was not so simple.
Herrick turned towards Browne. It would soon be too dark to pass or exchange signals. He had already ordered that the squadron should, steer south-east in the best formation they could manage.
'I will require a list of all casualties and damage, Mr Browne. Mr Speke will assist you. At daylight you will signal the squadron and request the same from each ship in turn.' He swallowed hard and turned his face away. `Our admiral is bound to ask me that first when he is up and about again.'
Speke was an unimaginative man. 'Will he recover, sir?'
Herrick swung on him, his eyes blazing. `What are you saying, man! Just you attend your damn duties!'
As the two lieutenants hurried away, Major Clinton came out of the gloom and said, `Be easy, sir. I'm sure he meant no harm.'
Herrick nodded. 'I expect you're right.' Then he moved to the weather side and began to pace up and down.'
Old Grubb blew his nose noisily and plodded over to the marine. 'Leave 'im, Major. With all respect, leave 'im be. This'll be a black day for the cap'n, be certain of that, an for many more beside.'
Clinton smiled sadly and then climbed up to the poop deck where some of his men had fallen that afternoon.
He had heard many stories about Bolitho and Herrick, that they had obviously been true was even more surprising, he thought.
9. Waiting
Captain Thomas Herrick leaned moodily on his elbow and leafed through the purser's daily report. His mind and body ached from worry and work, and neither was helped by the Benbow's uncomfortable motion. She would roll steeply into a trough, the movement ending each time with a long-drawn-out shudder which ran through every deck and timber.
She was, like the other ships of the line, anchored under the protection of Skaw Point. After the slow crawl from the position on the chart where they had fought Ropars' squadron, and another day at anchor, they were still working. Mending or replacing sails, paying seams, hammering and sawing, splicing and blacking-down rigging. It was just as if they were in the security of a dockyard instead of being out here in the bleak North Sea.
There was a tap at the door, and Herrick steeled himself for the moment he had been dreading.
'Enter!'
Loveys, the surgeon, closed the door behind him and took a proffered chair. He appeared exactly as before, deathly white, and yet tireless.
Loveys said, 'You look worn out, Captain.'
Herrick thrust all the affairs of the squadron and his ship aside like dead leaves. Even though he had been forced to attend to his daily work without respite, he had not once forgotten his friend in the stern cabin.
Men to be promoted to fill the gaps of dead or crippled comrades. Midshipman Aggett appointed as acting lieutenant in place of young Courtenay. With his lower jaw shot away and his mind completely unhinged, it was a miracle Courtenay had survived this long. The watch and quarter bills had had to be rearranged to share out the experienced hands. The purser had been complaining about rations, about. the total loss of some salt beef casks
