attention.
Neale stared up at the sky and whispered, “We did it, sir. Together.”
His hand lifted from his side and clasped Bolitho’s as firmly as he could.
“It was all I wanted, sir.”
Allday crouched on his other side to shield his eyes from the early sunlight. “Easy, Cap’n Neale. You’re going home now, you see.”
But Bolitho felt the hand go limp in his, and after a moment he bent over to close Neale’s eyes.
“He’s there, Allday. He’s gone home.”
10. For the Admiral’s Lady
“I STILL can’t believe it, sir.”
Herrick shook his head again, unable to accept what his decision had brought. From the moment he had made signalling contact with the frigate Ganymede he had paced up and down the quarterdeck, cursing the time it took for both ships to draw together, the further, seemingly endless delay as his own coxswain, Tuck, had taken the barge to collect Bolitho.
He had listened enthralled as Bolitho had sat by the stern windows in his torn clothing and had allowed Ozzard to fuss over him like a nursery maid.
And now, with the frigate following in Benbow’s wake, they were standing away from the French coast, the wind no longer an enemy.
Bolitho explained, “Ganymede was at a disadvantage. Her captain tried an old ruse and tempted the Ceres to follow him. He even took some severe damage to give the enemy overconfidence.” He shrugged heavily. It no longer seemed to matter. “Then he luffed, and put two broadsides into her before she knew what was happening. It still could have gone against him, but the last raking cut down Ceres’ captain, and the rest you know, Thomas.”
He had already told Herrick about the new chain of semaphore stations, but even that seemed unimportant set against Neale’s death.
Herrick saw the pain in his eyes and said, “The French ships which were sighted as Benbow showed herself must have been directed to aid Ceres by that same semaphore.” He rubbed his chin. “Well, we know about it now, damn them.”
Bolitho stared past him at the empty sword rack. “And they will know we know. The danger is there just the same.”
He thought of the two soldiers who had fallen to Allday’s cutlass. They must have had specific orders to kill the prisoners if the ship was in danger of being seized. It had been that close.
But the arrival of the French ships had made Ceres’ capture impossible. It would not be long before the French high command knew that their prisoners had escaped, that the secret would be out.
Lieutenant Wolfe entered the cabin and tried not to stare at Bolitho as he was stripped of his shirt and torn breeches by Loveys, the ship’s surgeon, while he lay against the seat and consumed his fifth cup of scalding coffee.
Wolfe said, “With respect, sir. Convoy in sight to the sou’east. All accounted for.”
Herrick smiled. “Thank you. I’ll come up presently.”
As the door closed Bolitho said, “You took a wild risk, Thomas. Your head would have been on the block if the convoy had been in danger. The fact you thought it safe would have carried as much water as a shrimping net at your court martial.”
Herrick grinned. “I felt certain I’d discover something if only I could help Ganymede to take the enemy.” He eyed Bolitho warmly. “I never dreamed…”
“Neither did I.”
Bolitho looked up as Ozzard, followed by Allday, entered the cabin with clean clothing and his other dress coat.
He said wearily, “Fetch the old sea-going one, Ozzard. I don’t feel like celebrating.”
Allday stared at Herrick in disbelief. “You’ve not told him, sir?”
“Told me what?” He needed to be alone. To sift his feelings, decide what to do, discover where he had gone wrong.
Herrick looked almost as astonished as Allday. “Damn my eyes, in all the excitement I forgot to explain!”
Bolitho listened without a word, as if by inserting a question, or by trying to smooth out the ridges in Herrick’s tale, he might destroy it completely.
As Herrick lapsed into silence he said, “And she is in the convoy, Thomas? Right here, amongst us?”
Herrick stammered, “Aye, sir. I was that worried, you see-”
Bolitho stood up and took Herrick’s hard hands in his “Bless you, old friend. This morning I believed I had taken enough, more than I could safely hold. But now…” He shook his head slowly. “You have told me something which is stronger than any balm.”
He turned away, as if he expected to see the other ships through the stern windows. Belinda had taken passage to Gibraltar. Danger and discomfort had meant nothing, his likely fate had not shaken her confidence for an instant. And now she was here in the Bay.
Herrick moved towards the door, content and troubled at the same time.
“I’ll leave you. It will be a while before we exchange signals.” He hesitated, unwilling to cast a shadow on the moment. “About Captain Neale…”
“We’ll bury him at dusk. His friends and family in England will have their memories of him. As he once was. But I think he’d wish to stay with his men.”
The door closed silently, and Bolitho lay back again and allowed the sun to warm him through the thick glass.
Neale had known from the beginning he was going to die. Only his occasional bouts of delirium had deceived the rest of them. One thought, one force had kept him going, and that had been freedom. To gain it in company of his friends so that he could die in peace had been paramount. It was all I wanted, he had said. His last words on earth.
Bolitho found he was on his feet without noticing he had moved. He did not even see Browne enter the cabin, or Allday’s sudden concern.
John Neale was gone. He would not die unavenged.
Barely making a ripple above her own black and buff reflection, Benbow moved slowly past other anchored vessels, all of which were dwarfed by the towering natural fortress of Gibraltar.
It was morning, with the Rock and surrounding landscape partly hidden in mist, a foretaste of the heat to come.
Bolitho stood apart from the other officers and left Herrick free to man?uvre his command the last cable or so to the anchorage. With all canvas but topsails and jib clewed up, Benbow would make a fine sight as she altered course very slightly away from her convoy, the largest vessel of which was already making signals to the shore.
It had taken nearly nine days to reach Gibraltar, and Grubb had described it as a fair and speedy passage. To Bolitho it had been the longest he could recall, and even the daily sight of Belinda on the Indiaman’s poop had failed to calm his sense of urgency and need.
From the beginning, when Herrick had made a signal to the Duchess of Cornwall, their daily rendezvous, separated by the sea and one other ship, had been without any sort of arrangement. It was as if she knew he would be there, as if she had to see him to ensure it was not a dream but a twist of fate which had brought them together. Bolitho had watched her through a telescope, oblivious to the glances of his officers and other watchkeepers. She always waved, her long hair held down by a large straw hat which in turn was tied beneath her chin by a ribbon.
Now the waiting was almost over and Bolitho felt strangely nervous.
Herrick’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
