Honour This Day

his way of exploiting Bolitho's sense of fairness?

Yovell looked over his steel-rimmed spectacles. 'I beg your pardon, Sir Richard, but did you intend this dispatch to Obdurate to read in this fashion?'

Bolitho gave a wry smile. 'I did.' He did not need to be reminded.

You are directed and commanded to make ready for sea. Captain Robert Thynne of the other seventy-four could think what he liked. Obdurate was needed now more than ever. The vessels carrying the bulk of the treasure would have to be escorted clear of dangerous waters until they met with ships of Sir Peter Folliot's squadron, or until they could have the sea-room to manage for themselves. Bolitho would have preferred to bide his time until his own small squadron arrived, but the change of weather had altered all that.

He turned away from the others, glad of the lanterns' mellow light as he massaged his eye. It was still aching from his stupid contest with the sun. Or was it another snare of his imagination? He was glad to be aboard this old ship again. Somervell had guessed as much when he had said his farewell.

Somervell had explained that he and his lady were leaving after the main exodus, aboard a large Indiaman which was daily expected here. Personal comfort rated very high with Somervell.

Bolitho had seen the other side of the man when he had asked, 'I should like to take my leave of Lady Somervell.'

'Impossible.' Somervell had met his gaze insolently. Bolitho could well imagine those same cold eyes staring along the barrel of a duelling pistol in the dawn light, although it was known he favoured swords for such settlements.

He had added, 'She is not here.'

Antigua was a small island. If she had wanted to see him she could. Unless Somervell had grown tired of the game and had prevented it. Either way it did not matter now. It was over.

There was a tap at the door and Lieutenant Lovering, who was the of ficer-of-the-watch, took a pace into the cabin and reported, 'I beg your forgiveness for this intrusion, Sir Richard,' his eyes flickered between Bolitho and Haven, 'but a courier-brig has been reported running for harbour.'

Bolitho lowered his eyes. Maybe from England. Letters from home. News of the war. Their lifeline. He thought of Adam, in command of his own brig, probably still carrying despatches for Nelson. Another world away from the heat and fever of the Indies.

Haven leaned forward. 'If there is any mail -' He recovered himself, and Bolitho recalled what Allday had said about his wife expecting a baby.

Bolitho signed more letters. Recommendations for promotion, for bravery, for transfers to other ships. Letters to the bereaved.

The lieutenant hesitated. 'Will you have any letters for the shore, Sir Richard?'

Bolitho looked at him. Lovering was the second lieutenant. Waiting for promotion, the chance to prove himself. If Parris fell…He shut the idea from his mind.'I think not.'It came out easily. Was it that simple to end something which had been so dear?

Haven waited until the lieutenant had withdrawn. 'First light then, Sir Richard.'

'Yes. Call the hands as you will, and signal your intentions to Obdurate and the Commissioner of the Dockyard.'

When Hyperion returned to Antigua the Indiaman would have gone. Would they ever meet again, even by accident?

'It will take all day to work out of harbour and muster our charges into a semblance of order. This wind will decide then whether to be an ally or a foe.'

If the treasure-ships and their escort were contained in the shelter of English Harbour for much longer, the Spaniards and perhaps their French allies might even try to counter-attack before the new squadron arrived.

Left alone in the cabin Bolitho drank some more hock, but although his stomach was empty he was unable to face Ozzard's meal. With the old ship swaying and groaning around him, and the duty watch being mustered every few minutes, or so it appeared, to secure and lash down some loose gear, it was impossible to rest.

The hock was good, and Bolitho found time to wonder how Ozzard managed to keep it so cool even in the bilges.

He toyed with the idea of sending a note to Catherine and dismissed it immediately. In the wrong hands it could ruin her.

What it might do to his own career did not seem to matter any longer.

He heard the clank of pumps and remembered what he had been told about Hyperion's age and service. It was like an additional taunt.

He lolled in his favourite chair but was awakened, it seemed within seconds, by Ozzard shaking his arm.

Bolitho stared at him. The ship was still in darkness, the din and movement as before.

'The first lieutenant wishes to see you, Sir Richard.'

Bolitho was wide awake. Why not the captain?

Parris entered, soaked with spray. He looked flushed despite his tan, but Bolitho knew he had not been drinking.

'What is it?'

Parris steadied himself against a chair as the deck swayed again. 'I thought you should know, Sir Richard. The guardboat reported earlier that a schooner left harbour. One of the commodore's own vessels, it seems.'

'Well?' Bolitho knew there was worse to come.

'Lady Somervell was on board.' He recoiled slightly under Bolitho's grey stare. 'I discovered that she intends to sail round to St John's.'

Bolitho stood up and listened to the wind. It was a gale now, and he heard the water surging against the hull like a flood tide.

'In this, man!' He groped round for his coat. 'Viscount Somervell must be informed.'

Parris watched dully. 'He knows. I told him myself.'

Haven appeared in the screen door, his sleeping attire covered by a boat-cloak. 'What's this I hear?' He glared at Parris. 'I shall speak to you later!'

Bolitho sat down. How could Somervell let her do it? He must have known when he had said it was impossible for her to make her farewell. A small schooner could founder if wrongly handled. He tried to remember who commanded Glassport's vessels.

Even in calm weather it was dangerous to make casual passages amongst the islands. Pirates were too commonplace to mention. For every one rotting in chains, or on the gallows, there were a hundred more in these waters.

He said, 'I can do nothing until daylight.'

Haven regarded him calmly. 'If you ask me -'

He fell silent then added, 'I must attend the watch on deck, Sir

Richard.' Bolitho sat down very slowly. I did this to her. He did not

know if he had spoken aloud or not, but the words seemed to

echo around the cabin like a shot.

He called to Ozzard, 'Rouse my flag lieutenant, if you please.' He would send him ashore with a message for Somervell, in

bed or not.

He stood up restlessly and walked to an unshuttered window. If I go myself one of us will surely die.

9. A Sloop Of War

Bolitho strode out on to the quarterdeck and felt the wind lift under his boat-cloak, and the spray which burst over the weather quarter like tropical rain.