Honour This Day

A dozen telescopes rose as one and the signals midshipman called, 'General, sir! Have Tybalt in sight to the north!'

Gossage hissed to the officer-of-the-watch, 'Why in hell's name did they sight her first?'

Herrick smiled wryly. 'Acknowledge it.' To the first lieutenant he called, 'Send a good master's mate aloft, Mr O'Shea!'

The lieutenant turned as if to confirm the order with Gossage but Herrick snapped, 'Just do it!'

He moved away, his hands grasped behind his back. He had never got used to flag rank, nor had he expected it, no matter what flattering things Dulcie had said about the matter.

He knew he was being petty but he felt better for it. At heart he would always remain a captain and not leave it to others to carry out his plans.

All down the line of eight ships, the air would be buzzing with speculation. Herrick thought of the missing third- rate Absolute. He had done the right thing. One great gale like the last one, and that poor, rotten ship would surely have foundered.

Bolitho's refusal to accept his action still rankled deeply. He took his own telescope, the latest and most expensive one which Dulcie could find, and trained it on the ships astern. In perfect formation, their masthead pendants licking out like serpents' tongues, the sunlight glistening on the checkered patterns of gunports.

The new voice hailed from the masthead. 'Tybalt in sight, sir!'

Herrick climbed up the starboard poop ladder and levelled his beautiful telescope. He could just make out the frigate's top-gallant sails, like the fleecy clouds, pink-edged and delicate against the hard horizon. The edge of the sea, he thought. Deep, dark blue. Still no sign of rain. Perhaps Bolitho would decide after all to send some of the ships to seek fresh water.

He saw the tiny pin-pricks of colour rise against the frigate's pyramid of sails. Herrick blinked his eyes. His vision was not as good as it had been, although he would never admit it. He thought of Bolitho's expression, the anguish when he had revealed to him about his damaged eyesight.

It troubled Herrick for several reasons, not the least being that he had failed Bolitho when he had most needed him.

Herrick's flag lieutenant, a willowy young man called De Broux, called, 'From Tybalt, sir!'

Herrick waited impatiently. He had never really liked his flag lieutenant. He was soft. Even had a Frenchie- sounding name.

Unaware of Herrick's distaste De Broux said, 'Strange sail bearing north-east!'

Several of the officers nearby chuckled amongst themselves and Herrick felt his face smart with anger, and embarrassment too for Bolitho.

Gossage said cheerfully, 'A strange sail, eh? Damn my eyes if I don't think that our eight liners can't take care of it, what?' He turned to his officers. 'We can leave Tybalt outside to act as umpire!'

Herrick said harshly, 'Hold your damn noise!' He spoke to the lieutenants. It was meant for Gossage.

'From Flag, sir. General. Make more sail.'

Herrick watched the acknowledgement dashing aloft.

Gossage, sulking slightly, called, 'Hands aloft, Mr O'Shea! Shake out all reefs!' His tone suggested it was merely to cover Bolitho's confusion.

Herrick raised the telescope and climbed up two more steps.

She had been so proud when she had bought it for him, from one of the best instrument makers in London 's Strand. His heart sank. She had gone there with Belinda.

De Broux shouted suddenly, 'Tybalt to Flag, sir!' For once he seemed unsure of himself. Then he stammered, 'Estimate twelve sail-of-the- line!'

Hernck climbed down to the quarterdeck again. He was uncertain how he felt. Resigned, or stunned by the last signal.

Gossage was staring at him, and made to speak as De Broux called desperately, 'General signal, sir. Prepare for battle!'

Hernck met Gossage's disbelief with something close to complete calm. To feel that way under such circumstances was almost unnerving.

Hernck asked coolly, 'Well, Captain Gossage, how do the odds appeal to you now?'

18. In Danger's Hour

Bolitho held out his arms and tried to contain his impatience as Ozzard nimbly buttoned his white waistcoat. After all the shortages it felt strange to be dressed from head to toe in clean clothing. Over Ozzard's shoulder he watched Keen, who was standing just inside the cabin so that he could still hear the shouted commands and replies from the quarterdeck.

Hyperion had not yet cleared for action; he would leave it to Hernck and the individual captains to do it when they were ready, and in their own time.

Hyperion's company were snatching a last hasty meal, although how the average sailor managed to eat anything before a fight was beyond Bolitho.

Keen said, 'If the Dons continue that approach, Sir Richard, neither of us will hold the wind-gage. It would seem that the enemy is on a converging tack.' His eyes were clouded with concentration as he tried to picture the distant ships. A day later and the enemy would have slipped past them to close with the coast of Spam before a final dash through the Strait.

Bolitho said, 'I must take the wind-gage from them. Otherwise, ship-to-ship they will swamp us.' He could feel Keen watching him as the plan formed itself so that they could both see it. As if it was here and now. 'We shall hold our forces together until the last moment. I intend to alter course to starboard and form two columns. Hernck knows what to do. His will be the shorter line, but no matter. Once battle is joined we may throw the Dons into confusion.' He allowed Ozzard to offer him his coat and hat.

Keen said, 'I must protest, Sir Richard.' He looked at the gold lace, the Nile medal which Bolitho would hang about his neck. 'I know your custom. I have shared this suspense too many times to forget.'

Allday entered by the other door and reached up for the old sword. Over his shoulder he remarked, 'You're wastin' your time, with all respect, Cap'n Keen.'

Keen and Allday looked at one another. Allday recalled better than any how he had seen Bolitho on board the embattled Phalarope at the Samtes. In his best uniform, a ripe target for any sharp-eyed marksman, so that the people should see him. Oh yes, Allday knew it was impossible to talk him out of it.

Bolitho slipped his arms into the coat and waited for Ozzard to stand on tip-toe to adjust the bright epaulettes with the twin silver stars.

This will not be a battle to test each other's mettle, Val. We must not even consider losing it. It is vital; you accept that now.'

Keen smiled sadly. 'I know it.'

There was a muffled hail from the masthead, and a lieutenant came running from the quarterdeck.

He stared at Bolitho and then said, 'The first lieutenant's respects, sir.' He tore his eyes from his vice-admiral and faced Keen. 'The mainmast lookout has just reported the enemy in sight. Steering south-west.'

Keen glanced at Bolitho, who nodded, then said, 'General signal. Enemy in sight.'

As the lieutenant hurried away Keen said, 'Brief and to the point. As you like it, Sir Richard.'

Bolitho smiled, and beckoned to Ozzard. 'You may clear the cabin. The bosun's party is waiting to carry the bits and pieces to the hold.' He rested his hand on Ozzard's bony shoulder. 'Go with them. No heroics today.' He saw his wistful gaze and added, 'I know not what ails you, but I will deal with it. Remember that, eh?'

As Ozzard made to pick up some small items Bolitho called, 'No' Not that¹' He took the fan from Ozzard's hand and looked at it. Remembering.