of you.'
Keen felt a chill at his spine. He knew that look, that voice. Something neither pain nor a bandage could disguise.
The fire still burns.
9. ATTACK
BOLITHO sat restlessly by his table and watched Keen's fingers busy with his dividers as he completed some more calculations on the chart.
Several times Bolitho had leaned forward to examine his progress and had felt the same rising sense of despair. It was like being half blind; as for reading the chart, it was out of the question.
He thought of his little squadron, so recently met in the Golfe du Lion and now drawing farther apart with each turn of the glass. Helicon and Despatch had spread all the canvas they could muster and headed for the islands to take on fresh water. Bolitho frowned and immediately felt a painful response in his left eye. When they returned they would stay together as long as possible and wait no longer for Jobert to choose the next move.
Inch's report had been excellent. He had ordered Barracouta to stop and search any coastal vessels he could find, and from one he had discovered that two large French men-of-war had been seen in Spanish waters, just beyond the frontier and less than two hundred miles south-west of Toulon. No wonder few French ships had been sighted by Nelson's blockading squadron around the great port. This small fragment of news had been like a glimmer of light.
At the captains' conference Bolitho had first sensed doubt if not disbelief, but although he had been unable to see their faces clearly he had felt his words gaining their attention.
Spain was still an ally of France whether she liked it or not. On the face of it you could almost feel sympathy for her, for Bonaparte had offered her few alternatives. He had demanded six million francs a month as a subsidy plus other important assistance. To avoid the outrageous ultimatum, Spain had the choice of declaring war on England once again. France had made it clear that a final option was that she would make war on Spain if neither alternative was met.
It seemed unlikely, if Inch's report was true, that Jobert would have used Spanish waters without instruction from a much higher authority in Paris. A further move to involve the Dons in the conflict.
Bolitho felt uneasy when he recalled the conference. It had seemed like an eternity before the captains had returned to their ships. How did they see him now? Undeterred by his injury? Or had they seen through his pathetic attempt to convince them of his ability to lead?
Lieutenant Stayt stepped through the screen door.
'Captain Lapish is ready for his orders, sir.'
'Very well.' Keen glanced at Bolitho and laid down the dividers. He knew how loath Bolitho was to release his only frigate. But if a fight was coming each ship needed to be self-sufficient for as long as possible. You could ration gunpowder. You could not survive without water.
As the flag-lieutenant withdrew Keen said, 'Lapish knows what to do. I spoke with him when he came aboard.' He gave a wry smile. 'He is more than eager to make amends, I feel.'
When Lapish entered Bolitho said, 'Return to this station as soon as you can.' He saw him nod, but his eyes were smarting from so much use and he could see little of the young captain's expression.
'You know what to do?'
Lapish said, as if repeating a lesson, 'I am to transform my ship into a two-decker before I resume blockade duty, sir.' There was no doubt in his voice, but Bolitho guessed he probably thought his admiral was not only half blind but unhinged as well.
Bolitho smiled, 'Aye. Use all your spare canvas and hammock cloths. It has been done before. Lashed to the gangways and painted buff with black squares for gunports, no one could tell the difference from a third rate at any distance.'
He added forcefully, 'If they come sniffing too close, either board or sink them.'
Bolitho knew that the lithe frigate would be able to catch up with the two seventy-fours, complete her watering and still return to the French coast ahead of them. Once on station she would be seen as one of his squadron. It would leave Bolitho with a full muster, and Lapish would be able to discard his crude disguise and run down on him should he sight any enemy movements. Lookouts, friends or enemies, usually saw what they expected to see. That would leave Rapid in a role of paramount importance, his only feeler.
After Lapish had been seen into his gig by Keen, Argonaute made sail and, with Icarus in company, altered course to the southwest. The two ships sailed in line abreast and thus extended the range of their masthead lookouts. Rapid was so far ahead that she was barely visible even from the fighting-tops.
Keen returned to his chart and explained, 'The Frenchmen were sighted around the Cabo Creus, sir. An ideal anchorage, and less than twenty miles from the frontier with France. If they are still there, shall we go for them?'
Bolitho toyed with the dividers. 'It might provoke Spain. On the other hand it would show the Dons we are prepared to discount their one-sided neutrality. For once it will put Jobert on the defensive.' The more he considered it the less could he think of an alternative. Jobert had made all the moves, and had nearly succeeded in crippling Bolitho's squadron. He must be provoked into coming out into the open. Winter would soon be upon them and, Mediterranean or not, the weather would favour the enemy, not the ships battling up and down on blockade duty.
A convoy to Malta would be expected within the next few weeks, and the enemy would know it. From the moment the supply ships anchored briefly at Gibraltar their spies would pass on the news of the vessels, and probably their cargoes as well.
There were not enough men-of-war available. Nelson was right about that too.
Bolitho massaged his eye. He would probably find the sheltered anchorage empty. Suppose they met with Spanish patrols? Fight or retreat?
He said grimly, 'Landfall tomorrow, Val.'
'Yes, sir.' If he was anxious about the girl being aboard with a prospect of battle he did not reveal it in his voice.
Bolitho said, 'It would be something to show for our setbacks, Val. Tit for tat. Jobert would be out for revenge. That is a bad incentive for any flag-officer.'
He turned away and walked to the stern windows. It is what I am seeking.
After Keen had gone Allday entered and asked, 'Is there anything you need, sir?'
Bolitho immediately sensed the emptiness in his voice. 'What's wrong?'
Allday looked at the deck. 'Nothin', sir.'
Bolitho slumped down in his new chair. 'Out with it, man.'
Allday said stubbornly, 'I'll keep it battened down, if you don't mind, sir.'
There was no point in pushing him further. Allday was like the oak and had deep roots. He might tell him in his own time.
Allday took down the beautiful presentation sword and tucked it under his arm. He seemed to need something to occupy his mind.
Tuson was the next visitor. Bolitho had learned to tolerate the surgeon's regular treatment and to disguise his pain when the dressings were changed.
How many days had it been? He opened his left eye and stared fixedly at the stern windows. Watery sunshine and a deep blue horizon. He tensed, feeling the hope surge through him. Then clenched his fists as the same shadow returned to curtain off his vision.
Tuson saw him tighten his fists and said, 'Don't despair, sir.'
Bolitho waited for the bandage to be retied. It was almost better to see nothing from that eye than to lose hope.
He asked abruptly, 'What is the matter with my cox'n?'
Tuson looked at him. 'Bankart, sir. His son. Pity he's aboard, if you ask me.'
