The night exploded.
7. SURRENDER OR DIE
THE WHIPLASH bangs of Supremes four-pounders were deafening. Hemmed in by the land, the explosions echoed from every side, as if two ships were engaged in battle.
Bolitho gripped Bankart's arm. 'Tell me!'
Bankart winced as the packed charges of grape and canister smashed into the leading boat like an iron flail. It was just possible to see the leaping feathers of white spray, the sudden glare of an exploding lantern before the darkness shut down again.
Hallowes yelled, 'Easy lads! Sponge out and reload!'
Bolitho cocked his head and heard someone screaming, others shouting and thrashing in the water. It had been a lucky broadside, and must have completely destroyed one of the boats.
A solitary voice was shouting commands, and Bankart whispered, 'Th' boats is splittin' up, sir.'
Okes growled, 'Pity they don't try to rescue their mates. We'd 'ave got them too in the next broadside!' He meant it.
'All loaded, sir!'
'Fire!' Gun by gun the shots crashed out and men retched and coughed as the smoke funnelled inboard.
Bolitho clutched his bandage. He had seen some flashes through it. Not much. Like lightning through a curtain. It was something.
A few musket shots whined overhead and one hit the hull. Half dazzled by the guns, the officers and lookouts were now finding it hard to locate the enemy's boats.
Bolitho said, 'What do you see?'
Bankart replied, 'One o' th' boats is 'ead on, sir. Comin' straight for us, starboard bow.'
Bolitho grasped his fingers around his sword until the pain steadied him. Around him he heard men whispering to one another, the hiss of steel as cutlasses were drawn, boarding pikes handed to the gun crews.
'Fire as you bear!'
Again and again the four-pounders blasted the night apart, the grape ripping across the water like lethal hail. But none found a mark.
Bankart said excitedly, 'I saw th' Frogs' boat in the flashes, sir!'
Bolitho twisted his head. Where were the others? 'Repel boarders!'
Hallowes cheered like a madman, like the time when he and Adam had boarded the Argonaute.
'At 'em, Supremes!'
Bolitho heard the thud of grapnels, screams rising seemingly at his feet, the rasp of steel and several shots, from friends or enemies he could not tell.
A man cannoned into him and Bankart dragged at Bolitho's arm.
'Back, sir! That one's done for!' A voice yelled, 'Port quarter, lads!'
Bolitho gritted his teeth as more shots clanged around him. As he had expected, he heard a boat crash into the stern, the yells and curses of boarders and defenders alike as they came to grips with blades, axes and pikes-there was not time to reload. He was pushed aside and two figures fought one another with Bolitho pressed against the bulwark. At any second he expected to feel the slashing agony of a blade or the thrust of one into his body. A man screamed almost in his face; he could feel his terror, his pain, before a sickening thud silenced him. How often had Allday protected him like that, had driven his cutlass into a man's head like an axe into a log.
He exclaimed, 'Thank you, Bankart!'
Stayt said between gasps, 'It's me, sir. Thought you looked surrounded, so to speak.' A pistol exploded at waist-height and Stayt said savagely, 'Take that, you bugger.'
'They're falling back!'
Someone raised a cracked cheer, and Bolitho heard men tumbling into a boat, others hurling themselves into the water to escape the maddened English seamen.
Okes bellowed, 'Stand aside, you booby! Let me at that swivel!'
Bolitho heard the thrash of oars; he knew that if he could see he would be looking down on one of the French boats right alongside.
Stayt pulled his arm. 'Here we go!'
The swivel gun gave a tremendous crack. For a split second beforehand Bolitho thought he heard someone scream, pleading perhaps as he realized what Okes intended.
Stayt said quietly, 'There can't be a man left alive there.'
Bolitho could barely hear him, his ears still cringing from the last explosion.
A whistle shrilled and he heard Hallowes shout, 'Cease firing!' Then, with a break in his voice, 'Well done, my Supremes!' Stayt said, 'We've lost a few. Not too many though.' 'Silence on deck!'
The sudden quiet was almost worse. Bolitho heard some of the wounded gasping and sobbing. How would they manage without a surgeon?
Then he heard the distant splash of oars-so there had been another boat, maybe several. But for Sheaffe's warning they would have swamped the cutter's defences no matter what it cost them.
Unable to contain themselves the seamen cheered and cheered again. Bolitho felt the pain returning and wanted to lay his head in his hands. But somehow he knew Stayt was watching him.
'Get Lieutenant Hallowes for me.' He fought back the need to cry out and asked between gasps, 'Where's Bankart?'
Over his shoulder Stayt said casually, 'Gone somewhere, sir.' It was all he said.
Hallowes arrived and knelt beside Bolitho. 'I am here, sir.
Bolitho felt for his shoulder. 'That was bravely done.'
Hallowes said huskily, 'But for my men-'
Bolitho shook him gently. 'Because they respect you. You led, they responded in the only way they know.'
Hallowes did not speak for several seconds and Bolitho could guess why. In victory and defeat he had known emotion more than many. Hallowes was just discovering the pride as well as the pain of command.
Hallowes said, 'They'll be back.'
'Not tonight. Too costly. Thanks to Sheaffe.' Hallowes sounded as if he was grinning. 'Your idea, sir, with respect.'
Bolitho shook his shoulder. He seemed to need a physical contact. Without it he felt completely cut off, a burden.
'Call him alongside. We may need that boat.'
He heard the insane bellow of Supremes copper foghorn and wondered what Sheaffe and his companion had thought as the fight had exploded on board the cutter.
Stayt came back and helped Bolitho to seat himself with his back against a small companion-way. Everyone was talking, friends seeking out friends, others sitting in silence, remembering a messmate who had been killed or badly wounded.
Bolitho knew they would not survive in daylight when the frigate came for them. After their bloody repulse, the French would be out for revenge and give no quarter.
He felt the other officers standing or squatting near him. Hallowes was in command. What would he do?
Hallowes asked, 'What would you advise, sir?'
Bolitho held his eyes again, hating the spectacle he must present to these men.
'We must try to break out.'
Hallowes sounded relieved. 'I was going to suggest that, sir.
Strangely enough, in that brief angry fight during which he had not even been a spectator, Bolitho had lost all sense of direction. The headland, the bluff at the end of the bay, even the rocks seemed all jumbled together.
'Mr Okes?'
Okes belched and Bolitho smelled rum. He had been having a well-earned wet as Allday would call it.
The thought touched off Stayt's words. What had happened to Bankart? He was close by now; he had heard
