For My Country’s Freedom

'I see.' It was clear to him now, as the Woodpeckers commander had described. Adam had believed he must hold off the enemy until it was dark enough for the merchantmen to escape, knowing that, by then, it would be too late for Anemone. He said, 'So your ship came about to engage?' He saw the boy nod, his eyes clouding with memories. 'Did you see your captain while all this was happening?'

'Oh yes, sir. He was always about. I went aft with a message an’ I heard him tell the first lieutenant to keep the marines hidden and not to rig the nets in case the Yankee guessed what we was doin’.' Then he smiled; it was the nicest thing which had happened. He said, 'Our captain was scared o’ nuthin!'

'Go on.'

The boy opened and closed his tar-stained fingers. 'Then the firin’ started, sir. We got the first shots off, but the big Yankee found the range and we was hit again an’ again! Spars an’ riggin’ was fallin’ all around, and men was dyin’, callin’ out-there was blood in th’ scuppers like I’ve never seen!'

Voices called overhead and bare feet thudded across the planking. Indomitable was changing tack, making for the harbour. But to this boy, it was like the battle being refought.

'The foremast was shot away, an’ the whole of the forecastle was covered in riggin’ and sails fallin’ on us like somethin’ terrible!' He turned and looked at Avery for the first time. 'We couldn’t move, sir. Men was fightin’ to get out, others went over the side, caught like they was in a net. I was held fast. I tried, I tried…'

Bolitho held up his hand as Avery began to move forward. 'Did you see the captain?'

'When he fell, sir.' He repeated in a small voice, broken by sobs, 'When he fell.'

Bolitho waited, his muscles bunched like fists. Adam had fallen. And only this boy had survived to describe it.

He stared at him blindly as he continued, 'Then the other ship was hard alongside, sir, the enemy was tramplin’ aboard. But our flag had been cut down. We was finished.'

'You are doing very well.' Bolitho glanced despairingly at the flag-lieutenant. 'Did anyone help the captain?'

The boy nodded. 'They carried him to the other ship.' He nodded again. 'I seen ’em.' He looked at Bolitho, remembering where he was, what he was doing. 'Then there was an explosion. We started to sink.'

Bolitho stood up and walked to the stern windows. An explosion, after the colours had been cut down. Somebody unknown, acting as Adam would have done rather than surrender his beloved Anemone.

'I can’t remember much after that, sir. I called out, but nobody came. There was dead men all around, and even wounded who never reached the upper deck. I held on to Billy, an’ together we floated off with some spars when the ship went under.'

Then the tears came and did not stop. He managed to gasp, 'But Billy didn’t answer me. He just drifted away. I think he’d been dead all the time!'

Bolitho said abruptly, 'Take him down to the sickbay and see that he gets a good meal before we anchor.'

Then he changed his mind, and found himself crossing the cabin to the chair, pulling out one of the handkerchiefs Catherine had bought for him. He gave it to the boy.

Avery watched. It was like being under a spell, and he could not speak or interrupt.

Bolitho said, so softly that the boy had to stop his tears to listen, 'Your captain is my nephew. He is very dear to me, as you were to your father. It does not bring back friends, but if it is any help, what you have told me has given me hope. Do you understand?'

He nodded, his streaming eyes never leaving Bolitho’s face.

Allday padded in silently and shook his head. When the boy looked up at him he said, 'Well, let me tell you, matey, no admiral ever spoke to me like that, an’ that’s no error!' He seized him by the top of his shirt and added, 'We’ll go an’ take a look at the pantry, eh?'

As the door closed, and Ozzard re-entered with two glasses on a tray, Bolitho sat down on the bench seat as if the deck had been cut from under him.

'That man really is a marvel!'

'I agree, sir.' To himself Avery added, And so, as it happens, are you.

Bolitho drank from the glass without tasting it. 'We shall go on deck, George. It is a sight I never tire of.'

Avery asked carefully, 'Where you met Lady Catherine, sir?'

Bolitho looked at him, the life, like hope, returning to his eyes. 'Where I found her, when I thought I had lost her for ever.'

Then he said over his shoulder, 'I am not a fool. I know the odds as well as you do. But he was alive, right?'

Avery followed him up to the bright sunshine. Do not hope too much. He thought suddenly of Catherine and the endearment he had once overheard. Dearest of men.

It was all true. He had just seen him bring a twelve-year-old boy back from the dead. As a man.

Later, with the ship anchored and surrounded by lighters and dockyard boats, Avery sat propped in his hutch- like cabin while he sorted the despatches into coherent order. The courier brig had not only brought important intelligence for the admiral, but also some mail which seemed to have gone around the world before reaching its proper destination.

There was a tap at the door and Avery opened it with one foot without getting up. It was Allday.

He said, 'Begging your pardon, Mr Avery, but I got a letter.' He held it out, his face baffled and worried.

'Sit down. On that chest, if you like.'

'You don’t mind, sir? But I knows you’ve been busy, what with young Captain Adam and everything.'

'Of course not.' He rather enjoyed it. It was as if he was getting a letter of his own. If there had been someone who cared enough to write.

He said, 'Pour yourself a drink,' and slit open the envelope. It was badly stained. Probably the vessel which had been carrying it had been damaged in the Atlantic gales, the mail transferred to another.

He could see her now. My dear John, it seems so long since I heard…

Allday waited, perched on the edge of the brass-bound chest. 'What is it, sir? Is something wrong? Tell me, please!'

Avery leaned over and poured a glass of brandy.

He said, 'Congratulations, John Allday.'

Allday was frowning. 'What’s happened?'

Avery held out the letter and pushed the glass towards him.

'You’ve become a father, that is what’s happened, man!'

Allday stared blindly at her round handwriting. 'A baby! She’s had a baby.'

Avery smiled. 'You stay here and enjoy your wet. I’ll lay aft to the admiral. I think this news is just what he needs.'

'But-but…' Allday waved the letter after him. 'Boy or girl, sir?'

Avery thought of Lady Catherine clambering up Indomitable’s side while the sailors had cheered.

He replied simply, 'A little girl. Your wife wants to call her Kate.'

The door closed and then Allday did pick up the brandy.

'Well, I’ll be damned!' He grinned at the cabin. 'Well, I’ll be double- damned!'

Bolitho looked up from his table as Tyacke entered the cabin, his hat tucked beneath his arm.

'With your permission, I’d like to weigh before noon. Mr York insists the wind is about to veer and freshen, although for the life of me I don’t know how he can tell.'

Bolitho said, 'I think we shall have to be guided, James. I have no wish to linger here in Antigua.'

Three days since their return, and still no word of Anemones final moments, apart from the description offered by the boy John Whitmarsh. Anemone’s company had been taken prisoner, but there had been no official confirmation. Three days, and he had thought of little else save Adam’s fate. If badly wounded, then how badly? If he had survived, would he be exchanged for an American prisoner, if any of equal rank had been taken?

He watched Yovell’s pen scratching out the final copy of his orders to the captains of his over-stretched