his waist like paws.
He said, 'Beg pardon, Captain, but the first lieutenant has sent his respects and requires me to tell you that the wind has shifted, though very slight.'
Keen looked at Bolitho and grinned. 'I told him to inform me, sir. It's still not much of a wind, but enough to break out the anchor. With your permission, sir?'
Bolitho nodded. It was infectious. It had not changed after all.
'Yovell, put my despatches in the yard-boat alongside.'
He saw his clerk hold the letter he had written to Belinda with special care. She would be reading it as Achates passed the Lizard on her way to the Atlantic rollers, he thought.
He heard Keen's voice through the open skylight, the trill of calls and the slap of bare feet over the dried planks as the seamen ran to their stations.
Bolitho made himself sit in his chair and sip the coffee. Keen would have enough to deal with as he sailed his ship clear of the land for the first time without having him there as well.
How many times had he stood at the quarterdeck rail, his heart bounding with hope and excitement, searching his soul in case he had forgotten something when it was already too late?
Tackles squeaked and cordage squealed through countless blocks, and very faintly, far away it sounded, Bolitho heard the plaintive notes of a violin while the shantyman added his weight to the men on the capstan bars.
Yovell came back breathing hard.
'All despatches ashore, zur.' His round Devonian dialect seemed to match his handwriting on the many copies of signals and despatches he had penned for Bolitho in the past two years.
Keen returned, his hat tucked beneath one arm.
'The anchor is hove short, sir. I wonder if you would care to join me on deck? It would do well for the people to see you are with them.'
Bolitho smiled. 'Thank you, Val.'
Keen hesitated and glanced at Pascoe.
'There is one thing I do not understand, sir. The courier delivered a letter for the flag-lieutenant. He only just reached the ship in time.'
Bolitho looked at his nephew. It was the moment, and it had almost been postponed because of the need to get under way while the feeble wind lasted.
He saw Yovell beaming at him and was suddenly fearful that he had done the wrong thing.
He said, 'I shall come on deck directly, Captain Keen.'
Bolitho took the sealed letter and glanced quickly at it to make certain it was the right one. Then he snatched his hat from Ozzard and walked with Keen to the door.
Keen was saying, 'I expect it was a careless mistake, sir.'
Bolitho pressed the letter into his nephew's hand.
'I shall be on deck if you need me.'
Entirely mystified, Keen accompanied him beneath the shadows of the poop deck and past the great double wheel where the helmsmen and quartermaster waited, tensed, for the anchor to break loose from the ground.
The ship was alive with seamen and marines. The topmen were already high aloft on the upper yards, spread out like monkeys as they handled the loosely brailed sails. The braces were manned, and as the pawls of the capstan clanked round to the tune of the fiddle, petty officers and master's mates watched their divisions like hawks, very aware of the flag at the fore.
Allday was on deck by one of the quarterdeck twelve-pounders when he realized that Ozzard had neglected to clip on Bolitho's sword for him. With a silent curse he darted aft and bustled past the marine sentry into the great cabin.
With a start he saw Pascoe was still there, an open document hanging from one hand.
Like Yovell, who had written most of the letters, Allday knew what the document contained. He had been deeply moved that he was one of the very few who did.
'All right, sir?'
When the youthful lieutenant turned to face him, Allday was shocked to see there were tears on his cheeks. 'Easy, sir! He wanted you to be pleased!'
'Pleased?'
Pascoe took a few paces towards the side and back again. As if he did not understand what was happening. 'And you knew about it, Allday?' 'Aye, sir. After a fashion.'
Allday had seen and done many things, and Bolitho had said more than once that with education he might have achieved a lot more than a sailor's life. But he did not need to be able to read what was written on the envelope. No wonder Captain Keen had been all aback, he thought.
The letter was addressed to Adam Bolitho, Esq. Flag-Lieutenant on board His Britannic Majesty's Ship Achates.
Adam stared at the writing, his eyes too blurred with emotion to read much further. The lawyer's impressive wax seals, the rights to the Bolitho property in Falmouth. He could not go on.
Allday took his elbow and guided him to the bench seat below the stern windows.
'I'll fetch you a wet, sir. After that we'll take the old sword on deck together.' He saw him nod and added quietly, 'After all, sir, you're a real Bolitho now. Like him.'
From another world a voice yelled, 'Anchor's aweigh, sir!'
The stamp of feet and the harsh cries of the petty officers seemed to be held at bay.
Allday poured a glass of brandy and carried it to the lieutenant he had known since he had come aboard Bolitho's Hyperion as a fourteen-year-old midshipman.
'Here, sir.'
Adam said quietly, 'You asked me if I was pleased. There are no words for the way I feel. He didn't have to…
Allday wished he could have a drink too. 'It's what he wanted. What he's always wanted.'
The deck tilted as the ship continued to pay off to the wind's thrust in her topsails and jib.
Allday took down the worn old sword from the rack and turned it over in his hands. They had nearly lost it for good last time. He looked at the young lieutenant, the image of the man on deck. It would be his one day.
Lieutenant Adam Bolitho wiped his face with his cuff and said, 'Let's be about it then, eh, Allday?' But the bravado would not hold. He gripped the coxswain's massive arm and exclaimed, 'I'm glad you were here just now.'
Allday grinned as he followed him from the cabin.
Pleased? He was pleased right enough. Otherwise, lieutenant or not, he'd have put the young rascal across his knee and beaten some sense into him.
Adam walked out into the sunlight. He did not see the curious stares, nor did he hear a muttered curse as a hurrying seaman almost fell to the deck as he tripped on the flag-lieutenant's foot. He took the sword from Allday and held it against Bolitho's side as he made to clip it into place.
Bolitho watched him and was glad. 'Thank you, Adam.'
The lieutenant nodded and tried to speak.
Bolitho took his arm and turned him towards the rolling shoreline as it glided abeam, moving away as the ship headed into deeper water.
'Later, Adam. There'll be plenty of time.'
The first lieutenant raised his speaking-trumpet and squinted up through the black rigging.
'Loose t'gan's'ls!'
He glanced at the group by the windward side. The youthful vice-admiral with his flag-lieutenant on deck to see if the ship was good enough, more than likely.
Allday saw the glance and hid a grin.
You've got a lot to learn, matey, an' that's no error.
3. Man of Action
