had heard of no such arrangement.
'He will know our movements, also that my flag flies above the squadron. He is a brave and resourceful officer and will be out for revenge.'
Inch leaned forward and bobbed. 'We'll finish him this time!'
Bolitho looked at the three junior officers. 'Your importance is paramount. I have no doubt in my mind that Jobert was behind the trap laid for Barracouta.' It was little more than a guess, but fitted what he knew about Jobert. The look of gratitude on Lapish's face more than made up for it. He would not repeat his mistake.
Bolitho said, 'Jobert may intend to seek out any small, detached vessel and destroy her and so leave the flagship deaf and blind.'
With his ex-flagship and Helicon, another French prize, trailing their coats in his waters, Jobert would need little encouragement to level the score.
At the back of his mind Bolitho wondered if Admiral Sheaffe had known about this when he had last seen him. An encouragement for one was a goad for the other. Perhaps I am the bait?
Keen murmured bitterly, 'We should have done for him there and then!' It was unusual for him to sound so vehement.
Worrying about the girl and what would become of her now that they were moving deeper into the Mediterranean? What should be done with her? Perhaps, after all, his plan had gone wrong and might eventually do her some real harm.
He thrust it from his mind. The war would not wait. It was something greater than any of them had known.
He said quietly, 'So let us dine together, gentlemen.'
Inch beamed. 'And think of our loved ones, eh?'
Captain Houston gave a thin smile. 'Some can do more than think about them to all accounts.'
Keen looked pale but managed to remain silent.
Bolitho said, 'Captain Houston, I am not sure if that was meant to be offensive? If so, then I am offended.' His grey eyes were suddenly hard. 'I am waiting.'
The silence was oppressive like the humidity in the cabin.
Houston met Bolitho's gaze and said hesitantly, 'I meant no offence to you, Sir Richard.'
'I am glad to know it.' Bolitho turned aside. Houston was a fool. Worse, he might become the weak link in their slender chain.
He thought of Inch's words which brought Houston's response. I shall write to Belinda tomorrow. But the thought remained motionless in his mind, like a cloud.
As the others made their way towards the long table with its gleaming candles, Keen said urgently, 'It is beginning, sir, I blame myself. I would not have had this happen-'
Bolitho faced him and, ignoring the others, gripped his arm with sudden force.
'Say no more on the matter. Tomorrow, next week maybe, we could join our lost friends, or be whimpering as our parts drop in Tuson's wings and limbs tubs.' He tightened his grip still more. 'It is something you could never have foreseen.' Then he smiled and released his hold. 'In truth, Val, I damned well envy you.' He turned away before Keen could speak.
Two days later, as a lordly East Indiaman dropped anchor in the bay, Bolitho's squadron weighed and put to sea in watery sunlight. Throughout the squadron every purser was worrying over fresh water and rations, and each captain considered the need to be sparing with cordage and canvas as they sailed farther and farther from the land.
A thousand miles ahead of the squadron the little brig Firefly lay hove-to under the flagship's lee.
Adam Bolitho stood on the broad quarterdeck and glanced across at the other ships and then up at the vice- admiral's flag at the fore. Like his uncle, and yet it was all so different. Several other visitors were aboard, and the flagship's own captain had barely paused to offer him a nod.
The solitary epaulette counted for very little here, he thought. But the challenge and the thrill of making his first rendezvous in his own command still held him. Even sighting the Rock in all its majesty had seemed exciting and personal. And now he was here in the old Victory, ignored perhaps, but here.
He shaded his eyes to look across at his small command. She was young and alive, the way he felt.
He owed it all to his uncle, although he would be the first to deny it. Adam sighed. It was his uncle's birthday tomorrow, although without someone to remind him he would let it pass unnoticed. He would more likely be thinking of the day after, two years exactly since he had married Belinda at Falmouth. They had been a hard two years, much of them spent at sea, as was the way of the Bolitho men. Now there was little Elizabeth, but something was missing.
The flag-lieutenant joined him on the quarterdeck and eyed him curiously.
'The secretary is completing the despatches you are to carry. It will not take long.' 'Thank you.'
'In the meantime Lord Nelson would be pleased to receive you. Please follow me.'
Adam walked aft, his mind awhirl. He was twenty-three years old and with Firefly had thought he had everything.
A voice announced, 'Commander Adam Bolitho, my lord.'
In fact it was just beginning.
5. DARKNESS AT NOON
BOLITHO paced slowly along Argonautes handsome stern gallery, his neckcloth untied, his shirt open to his waist. October it might be, but the air was hot, with little more than a light breeze to fill the sails.
He liked the stern gallery, a luxury he had never enjoyed in an English-built ship. Beyond the tall windows of his day cabin, or above on the poop, was the ship and all the responsibility she represented. Here on this narrow catwalk there was complete privacy, no eyes to watch him, to study his confidence or lack of it. Even the sounds were more muffled here, masked by the surge of water below the counter, the creak of the rudder-head as the helmsmen held the two-decker on course.
One sound did intrude, however. The regular staccato roll of a drum, the agonizing pause, and the crack of the lash on a man's naked back.
One more note in the punishment book, and little comment from the ship's company. Discipline was discipline, less harsh in many ways than that meted out by the lower deck if they found someone stealing from their own kind.
Crack.
Bolitho thought of the girl, and wondered why he had not told Adam about her when Firefly had joined the labouring squadron just long enough to pass some despatches and collect letters for home. For Firefly was returning to England, Nelson's link with a far-off Admiralty.
Adam had said wistfully, 'I have only just come here, Uncle.' He had brightened when Bolitho had given him a letter for Belinda. 'But I shall be back soon with any luck.'
Bolitho walked to the end of the gallery and rested his hand on the gilded shoulder of a life-sized mermaid, the twin of the one at the opposite side. He smiled. Well, almost. This one had been decapitated by a ball from Achates on that murderous day in May. Adam and Hallowes, who now commanded Supreme, had boarded this ship with a small handful of men, each knowing it was a last chance with the possibility of survival too unlikely to consider. Adam had told him about this mermaid and how he had clung to her before the last mad dash.
The old woodcarver at Plymouth who had fashioned a new head must have a sense of humour, he thought. He had given the mermaid a sardonic grin, as if she was enjoying a secret.
He had asked Adam of his impressions of Nelson and had seen him putting them together in his mind.
'He was not at all as I expected. He seemed restless, and in some pain from his arm. And although I am taller than his lordship, he seemed to fill the cabin. I cannot explain it. And his contempt for authority is astounding. The name of Admiral Sheaffe was mentioned and Nelson laughed. He said that Sheaffe's oceans were made of paper and fine intentions, that he had forgotten that it took men to win wars.'
