The sailing master called, 'Steady on nor' nor' east, sir! '
Trevenen folded his hands behind his back. 'Leadsman in the chains, Mr. Urquhart, lively now! '
The first lieutenant was with the master. 'But there's no bottom hereabouts, sir.'
'Damn it, do I have to repeat everything I say? Do as I tell you! '
Bolitho could understand any captain's anxiety for his ship. But this place was known for its isolation, and for the impossibility of landing here without the use of boats.
Avery thought the same but said nothing. He watched
Urquhart hurry past, his face flushed with humiliation at being upbraided in front of the hands.
The leadsman's cry echoed aft. 'No bottom, sir! '
Bolitho raised the telescope and studied the hard landscape as it continued to grow and reach out on either bow. There was a patch of green below the monastery, a possible kitchen garden.
The sea was deep, and he watched a big swell at the foot of some fallen rocks. According to Tyacke and the chart there was a tiny cluster of huts used by visiting fishermen when their favourite catch was in season.
Bolitho saw Allday lounging against an eighteen-pounder, his new cutlass already in his belt. Urquhart might resent having Avery and Allday with him, especially as he was in charge. Trevenen would see to that.
Ozzard appeared at his side. 'Shall I bring your coat, Sir Richard?'
Bolitho shook his head. 'No. Someone may be watching us. It is better this way.' He saw Ozzard's expression as he stared at the island. As if he loathed what he saw. What had done this to him?
'No bottom, sir! '
Trevenen said, 'Shorten sail, Mr. Urquhart! Take in the t'gallants and stays' is We are moving too fast over the water! '
Men swarmed to the ratlines. With their captain on deck they needed no urging.
Bolitho stiffened. There was the landing place, and he could see one of the wooden huts beyond it. Even a castaway would feel wretched here.
He said 'You may assemble the landing party, Captain.'
Trevenen touched his hat but did not look at him.
Bolitho watched one of the cutters being swayed up from the boat tier. The chosen party of men looked capable enough. They were all armed, and he saw the gunner getting ready to supervise the mounting of a swivel in the boat's bows once it was in the water.
Urquhart had donned his sword, and looked vaguely ill at ease as he handed over his duties to the second lieutenant.
Bolitho watched the courses being brailed up to the yards and felt the way go off the ship as she rolled heavily in the offshore swell.
He said, 'Just make certain that all is well, Mr. Urquhart. These are men of peace, and any unnecessary show of force would be resented. Discover what you can.' He glanced at Allday. 'And be careful.'
Urquhart nodded stiffly, very aware of his captain standing nearby with a sardonic smile on his lips.
Trevenen said, 'Stand by to wear ship. We shall heave-to! '
It would be a hard pull for the oarsmen, Bolitho thought. Nevertheless, he sensed that the sailors who were remaining on board envied the landing party.
'Sway out the boat! ' As Valkyrie came up into the wind with all remaining sails flapping in confusion, the selected men clambered down into the cutter alongside. The last to board were the two lieutenants. Bolitho noticed that Urquhart was careful to climb down last, as if he needed to prove that, on this occasion at least, he was the senior officer.
'Bear off! Out oars! '
The cutter looked deceptively small in the great glassy swell, but was soon under command and cleaving through the steep water like a dolphin.
Bolitho said, 'You may get under way again, Captain. But stand no further offshore.'
Valkyrie steadied again as the courses and topsails were reset, and with neither Allday nor Avery to talk to be felt strangely depressed. Instinctively he reached up to his damp shirt and touched the locket inside. I am here. You are never alone.
He rubbed his left eye and winced. It must be getting worse. They must never know.
He took up the telescope again and looked for the boat but it was merging with the shore, moving briskly towards the landing-place, possibly aided by an undertow.
He went down into the cabin and dabbed his eye with water.
Yovell said gently, 'Is there anything I can do, Sir Richard?'
He dropped the cloth, angry with himself. He had told others to delegate and to trust those they commanded, so what was the matter with him?
He answered, 'I think everyone believes I am wasting time.'
Yovell smiled inwardly. Bolitho meant the captain. 'Never mind, Sir Richard. Mr. Avery and Allday will get a warm welcome. Fresh faces must be more precious than Christianity in this place! ' He was surprised as Bolitho turned to stare at him, his eyes wild in the reflected light. Then without a word he snatched the old hanger from the bulkhead, and was still buckling it around himself as he ran to the companionway.
'Captain Trevenen! ' He swung round blindly, unable to see him, caught off-guard by the sun's power. 'Heave- to immediately! ' He saw the others looking at him as if they thought him mad. Dyer, the second lieutenant, was turning to the captain, not knowing what to do.
Trevenen sounded very calm, almost defiant. 'You ask me to perform some strange things, Sir Richard! '
'I am not asking you. Just do it! ' He could not resist adding, 'Do I have to repeat everything I say?' It was petty, and later he might regret it. But there was no time. Above the squeal of blocks and the boom of canvas he shouted, 'I want two boats, a squad of marines in each one! ' Men seemed to be scampering in all directions, dodging the hands at the braces and halliards as they brought the ship into the wind again.
Bolitho saw Plummer, the sergeant of marines, near the nettings and called, 'Your best marksman and lively with it! ' There was no time to seek out the debonair Captain Loftus. It might already be too late.
Why did I not think?
'I demand to know what is happening, Sir Richard! As officer appointed to command…' Trevenen got no further.
'Damn your eyes, sir! Stand closer inshore and watch for signals! ' Then he was over the side and scrambling over the tumble home into the nearest boat.
'Let me, Sir Richard! ' It was Captain Loftus of the marines. He was actually grinning. 'I guessed something was up! '
Bolitho stared round, barely aware that the boats were away from the frigate's side, the oars thrashing at the water until they found the stroke.
It seemed so wrong without Allday at his side. I should never have sent him.
'Can you tell me, Sir Richard? I appear to be the only officer present.'
Boitho gripped his arm. They will think me insane.
But thank goodness Loftus was keeping his head. He peeked over the oarsmen as they dipped then rose above him, their eyes grim and intent. The shore seemed no nearer.
He said, 'My secretary saw it. I did not. It was a feeling and nothing more. Because I had nothing left.'
'Sir?' He was trying to understand.
Bolitho asked sharply, 'Is the marksman with us?'
Loftus nodded. 'Behenna, Sir Richard. From your part of the world, I understand.' He smiled. 'A poacher, in fact. It was a choice between the Corps or the rope. I am not sure if he believes he made the right decision! '
The casual humour did more than anything to steady Bolitho's racing thoughts.
Tell your poacher to load his piece now. If ordered to shoot I fear there may be blood on my hands.'
The word ran through the boat and then the other one, so that men tightened their grip on the looms while others reached down in the bottom boards for their weapons.
The marksman in the bows turned and stared along the length of the boat at the vice-admiral in his flapping shirt, with the old blade between his knees.
Bolitho lifted one hand towards him. The poacher was trying to tell him something with a glance. Like the young seaman that day with the bruise of a starter on his bare shoulder.
