'After making contact with the brig Larne, and knowing the approximate position and bearing of the enemy, we decided to make all sail possible.'
Cotgrave prompted, 'We decided?'
Gossage nodded and winced. 'As flag captain I was always consulted, naturally, and you will already know that the same wind which brought Sir Richard Bolitho's ships to our eventual relief, was opposing us and our convoy.'
Cotgrave darted a glance at his clerks; their quills were dashing back and forth across their papers. 'And then, on the day when the enemy made its appearance, what was happening?'
Gossage replied, 'There was a mist, and the convoy had become scattered overnight. But we had made good progress, and I knew that Larne was fast enough to pass word to the admiral.'
'Were you as surprised as Larne's commander that it should be passed to Admiral Gambier, rather than to Sir Richard, the accused's friend?'
Gossage considered it. 'Admiral Gambier was in overall command. I can see no other alternative.'
Cotgrave turned over another paper. 'Was there any discussion as to whether the convoy should scatter or disperse at this point?'
Gossage dabbed his face with his handkerchief; the pain was making him sweat badly.
'Yes, we discussed it. We had no frigate, the wind was against us; if the convoy had been broken up I believe it would have been destroyed piecemeal. Most of them were slow, deep-laden-an ill-matched collection if ever I saw one.' He did not conceal his bitterness. 'Even the poor old Egret, our remaining escort, was a floating relic.'
Hamett-Parker snapped, 'You cannot say that!'
Cotgrave gave a mild grin. 'I am afraid he can, Sir James. Egret was a hulk even before the war began. She was refitted for less demanding duties.'
Gossage repeated, 'She was a relic.'
Bolitho watched Herrick's expression. He was staring at Gossage as if he could not believe what he had heard.
'And then?'
Gossage frowned. 'RearAdmiral Herrick ordered a gun to be fired to hasten the convoy into a manageable line again, to keep station on one another. Then he insisted that I should order the signal to be spelled out, word by word, so that each master would know and understand the nearness of danger.'
'And what of your superior's demeanour at that time?'
Gossage glanced at Herrick, his features completely empty of expression. 'He was calm enough. There was no other alternative but to stand together and fight.' He lifted his chin slightly. 'The Benbow has never run away. Nor would she.'
Bolitho watched Herrick's face working with sudden emotion. Once he shook his head, but when asked if he wished to put a question to his past captain he wiped his eyes and remained silent.
Bolitho felt the tension rising around him like steam. Gossage's simple, almost resigned words had changed everything. He was the man of the moment, the only man who had known what had really happened. Bolitho's own description of what he had found when he had boarded the shattered flagship had acted like an introduction. Gossage had ended it.
Cotgrave folded his papers and cleared his throat. 'I believe it is time for the Court to adjourn, Sir James.'
Bolitho looked over and saw Hamett-Parker staring at him, like that first time. There was no hint of justice being done. If anything, there was only fury.
'Remove the accused!'
Then the Court filed out.
Keen entered and found a seat beside him. 'I still cannot understand! I am not deceived, am I, Sir Richard?'
Bolitho was glad he was with him. 'You were not, Val. Gossage made no prior statement, he was too ill at the time. Perhaps this is his way.'
Keen still watched him with surprise. 'But he owes RearAdmiral Herrick nothing, Sir Richard!'
'Have you never heard of revenge, Val?'
Someone whispered hoarsely, 'They're coming back.'
Gossage was standing in the shadows, drinking from a goblet which someone had brought for him. He looked tired and sick, yet unable to leave.
Hamett-Parker said flatly, 'Marshal, do your duty.'
The Royal Marine officer picked up Herrick's sword and after a small hesitation, laid it down again. It brought a great roar of gasps and excitement from the craning visitors. 'The sword's hilt was toward Herrick's chair.'
'Bring in the accused.'
The footsteps halted abruptly beside Bolitho's seat, and when he glanced round he saw Herrick, as white as a sheet, staring at the table as if he had been stricken by some terrible disease.
Cotgrave said, 'RearAdmiral Herrick, you are discharged. The charges brought against you are dropped. They cannot be recommitted.'
Herrick stared round until he saw Gossage, then he said tonelessly, 'Damn you to hell, Gossage. God rot you.'
Gossage raised the goblet in salute and leaning on the orderly's arm, allowed himself to be guided to another door.
Keen said, 'I must see the members of the Court to their boats, Sir Richard.' He turned anxiously. 'Wait for me, please.'
But Allday was here, massive and frowning, his hat beneath his arm.
Bolitho touched Keen's sleeve and shook his head.
To Allday he said, 'Take me ashore, old friend. It's all over.' He looked back at Herrick and saw some officers around him, their faces beaming with congratulations.
He could not see Herrick's expression. He was still holding the sword in his hands like a man who had been cheated, and betrayed.
5. THE HAND OF A LADY
BRYAN FERGUSON opened the doors of the big grey house and beamed with pleasure.
'Captain Adam, of all people! When I saw you ride in just now I thought, well, for a moment…' He shook his head admiringly. 'What a pity John Allday is not here to see you!'
Captain Adam Bolitho walked into the great room, his eyes taking in everything, noticing small changes. The hand of a lady.
He said, 'I hear he has been in Portsmouth, Bryan.'
'You know of the court martial, sir?'
Adam walked to the great fireplace and touched the family crest above it. Remembering. Remembering so many things. How, when only fourteen years old, he had walked all the way from Penzance where his mother had died, with a scrap of paper and the name of the one man who would take care of him. This home was like his own. Sir Richard Bolitho had made certain it would be his one day, just as he had given him the family name.
He remembered what Ferguson had asked him. 'Aye, the whole fleet must know by now.' He changed the subject. 'I saw my uncle's carriage in the stable yard. Is he here yet?'
Ferguson shook his head. 'He will be sailing from Falmouth soon, so he sent his flag lieutenant on ahead to attend to things. Yovell came with him.'
He watched Adam as he moved restlessly about the room. He had looked so like Bolitho when he had ridden in. But the young man with hair as black as his uncle's was only 27 with the single epaulette of captain on his right shoulder.
Adam saw the look and smiled. 'It will be a pair this year, Bryan, if all goes well. I shall be posted in the autumn.'
Ferguson approved. So like his beloved uncle, he had gained his first command at the age of twenty-two or
