Honour This Day

astern, heeling steeply to a lively north-westerly, their departure probably roused as much speculation as their arrival. Bolitho watched the Rock's famous silhouette until it was lost in haze. The strange cloud of steam rising against an otherwise clear sky was a permanent feature when the wind cooled the overheated stones, so that from a distance it appeared like a smouldering volcano.

Most of Hyperion's company had grown used to one another since the ship had commissioned, and Keen was almost the only stranger amongst them.

As day followed day, and each ship exercised her people at sail or gun drill, Bolitho was thankful for the fates which had brought Keen back to him.

Unlike Haven, he did know Bolitho's ways and standards, had served him both as a midshipman and lieutenant before eventually becoming his flag captain. The ship's company seemed to sense the bond between their captain and admiral, and the older hands would note and appreciate that if Keen did not know something about his ship he was not too proud to ask. It never occurred to Bolitho that Keen had perhaps learned it from him.

It had been sad to part with Firefly, but she had bustled on to deliver more despatches to admirals and captains who were eagerly awaiting the latest news of the French. Amongst Firefly's mountain of despatches there would doubtless be a few like the one which Haven had still not read. War was as cruel in the home as it was on the high seas, he thought.

When he met with Adam again his promotion would have been confirmed. It seemed strange to consider it. He could imagine what they would think and say at Falmouth when the latest Captain Bolitho came home. Unless Adam eventually met and married the girl of his choice, he would be the last captain to arrive at the house in Cornwall.

He often thought of Catherine and their farewell. They had shared their passion and love equally, and she had insisted that she accompany him all the way to Portsmouth to board the little Firefly. Keen had said his own goodbyes earlier when he had gone to Portsmouth with Adam in another carriage.

With the horses stamping and steaming in the sunshine Catherine had clung to him, searching his face, touching it with tenderness and then dismay when Allday had told them the boat was waiting at the sally port.

He had asked her to wait by the carriage but she had followed him to the wooden stairs where so many sea- officers had left the land. There had been a small crowd watching the ships and the officers being pulled out to them.

Bolitho had noticed that there were very few of the age for service. It would be a fool who risked the press gang's net if he had no stomach for the fight.

The people had raised a cheer, and some of them recognised Bolitho, as well they might.

One had shouted, 'Good luck, Equality Dick, an' to yer lady as well!'

He had faced her and he had seen tears for the first time.

She had whispered, 'They included mel'

As the boat had pulled clear of the stairs Bolitho had looked back, but she had vanished. And yet as they had bumped over a choppy Solent where Firefly tugged at her cable, he had sensed that she was still there. Watching him to the last second. He had written to ask her just that, and to tell her what her love meant to him.

He remembered what Belinda had said about their infatuation. Allday had described Catherine as a sailor's woman, an'that's no error. When he said it, it sounded the greatest compliment of all.

While the frigate Tybalt and the sloop-of-war Phaedra chased and questioned any coaster or trader foolish enough to be caught under their guns, Bolitho and Keen studied the scanty reports, as day by day they sailed deeper into the Mediterranean.

It was said that Nelson was still in the Atlantic and had joined up with his friend and second-m-command Vice-Admiral Collmgwood. Nelson had probably decided that the enemy were trying to divide the British squadrons by ruses and quick dashes from safe harbours. Only when that was achieved would Napoleon launch his invasion across the Channel.

As Yovell had mildly suggested, 'If that is so, Sir Richard, then you are the senior officer in the Mediterranean.'

Bolitho had barely considered it. But if true, it meant one thing to him. When the enemy came his way he would need to ask no one what he must do. It made the weight of command seem more appealing.

One forenoon as he took his walk on the quarterdeck he saw Lieutenant Parns moving along a gangway, his arm strapped to his side, his steps unsteady while he gauged the rise and fall of the hull. He appeared to have withdrawn more into himself since Haven's attack with intent to murder him. Keen had said that he was well content to have him as his senior, but had not known him before so could not make a comparison.

Parns moved slowly to the lee side of the quarterdeck and clung to a stay to watch some seabirds swooping and diving alongside.

Bolitho walked across from the weather side. 'How do you feel»'

Parns tried to straighten his back but winced and apologised. 'It is slow progress, Sir Richard.' He stared up at the bulging sails, the tiny figures working amongst and high above them. Til feel a mite better when I know I can climb up there again.'

Bolitho studied his strong, gipsy profile. A ladies' man? An enigma'

Parns saw his scrutiny and said awkwardly, 'May I thank you for allowing me to remain aboard, Sir Richard. I am less than useless at the moment.'

'Captain Keen made the final decision.'

Parns nodded, his eyes lost in memory. 'He makes this old ship come alive.' He hesitated, as if measuring the confidence. 'I was sorry to hear of your trouble in London, Sir Richard.'

Bolitho looked at the blue water and tensed as his damaged eye misted slightly in the moist air.

'Nelson has a saying, I believe.' It was like quoting one of Adam's favourites. 'The boldest measures are usually the safest.'

Parns stood back as Keen appeared below the poop-deck, but added, 'I wish you much joy, Sir Richard. Both of you.'

Keen joined him by the nettings. 'We shall sight Malta tomorrow in the forenoon watch.' He glanced over at the master's powerful figure. 'Mr Penhahgon assures me.'

Bolitho smiled. 'I was speaking with the first lieutenant. A strange fellow.'

Keen laughed. 'It is wrong, I know, to jest on it, but I have met captains I would have dearly liked to shoot. But never the other way about!'

Down by the boat-tier Allday turned as he heard their laughter. Keen's old coxswain had been killed aboard their last ship, Argonaute. Allday had selected a new man for him, but secretly wished it was his son.

Keen's coxswain was named Tojohns, and he had been captain of the foretop. He glanced aft with him and said, 'A new ship since he stepped aboard.' He studied Allday curiously. 'You've known him a long while then?'

Allday smiled. 'A year or two. He'll do me, an' he's good for Sir Richard, that's the thing.'

Allday thought about their parting at Portsmouth Point. The people cheering and waving their hats, the women smiling fit to burst. It had to work this time. He frowned as the other coxswain broke into his thoughts.

Tojohns asked, 'Why did you pick me?'

Allday gave a lazy grin. Tojohns was a fine seaman and knew how to put himself about in a fight. He was not in the least like old Hogg, Keen's original coxswain. Chalk and cheese. What they said about me and Stockdale.

Allday said,' 'Cause you talk too much¹'

Tojohns laughed but fell silent as a passing midshipman glanced sharply at him. It was hard to accept his new role. He would no longer have to be up there at the shrill of every call, fighting wild canvas with his foretopmen. Like Allday he was apart from all that. Somebody, for the first time.

'Mind you.' Allday watched him gravely. 'Whatever you sees down aft, you keep it to yerself, right, matey?'

Tojohns nodded. Down aft. Yes, he was somebody.

Six bells chimed out from Hyperion's forecastle and Captain Valentine Keen touched