what the patrols may or may not have discovered about the two frigates at Algiers. I sometimes wonder if anyone ever takes heed of all this intelligence.' He made another attempt, for he was a kindly man. Try to forget what happened that day. You did your best. The pirate, from what I've heard, was a giant, and a savage, probably filled with some devil's potion as well as an unholy lust to kill.' He added gently, 'We get no younger, John. We sometimes forget that.'
Allday punched one fist into another. 'I should have stopped the bastard! Not left it to some bloody bullock!'
Yovell half-listened to the stamp of bare feet, and the sudden squeal of blocks as the ship began to change tack again.
He said, 'Sir Richard seems well enough. I think he always knew his eye would, eventually fail him. It could have been worse. Much worse.' He folded his hands on Bolitho's desk. 'I prayed. I hope I was heard.'
Allday turned on him, but was moved to silence by the simple assurance.
He growled, 'Well, I think we should stop now. Haul down the flag an' let some other up-an'-comin' Nelson take the strain!'
Yovell smiled at that. 'Within a month you'd be burrowing round, looking for some job to keep you occupied. I would lay odds on it, and you know I am not a gambling man.'
Allday sat heavily on the bench seat, and glared at the nearest eighteen- pounder.
'I don't never want to become like most of the old Jacks you see. You knows 'em well enough, swingin' the lamp and sayin' how great an' fine it was to be raked by some bloody mounseer, an' to lose a spar like poor Bryan Ferguson.' He shook his shaggy head. 'Never! What we done, we done together. That's how I wants to remember it!'
The door opened and Avery entered the cabin. He, too, glanced at the pile of waiting letters and despatches, and shook his head.
'I don't know what drives him so!' He waved Allday back to his seat and remarked, 'There might be some fleet mail for us.' He peered through an open gun port 'I just saw a sight, a big Indiaman, making all plain sail with the skill and swagger of a first-rate! Young Singleton told me she was Saladin, on passage to Naples. On the King's business for a change, by the sound of it.'
Allday looked at him. '1 knows her, sir. We was just talking about Bryan Ferguson, back home. Him an' me went down to see her once when she dropped her hook at Falmouth.'
Avery said something vague in acknowledgement. Like
Singleton, this seasoned, unflinching sailor could still surprise him. Back home…… Not many landsmen would ever understand what that meant to men like Allday, worn out by war and unready for peace. And what of me?
He could hear Ozzard rattling glasses in his pantry, preparing for the ship's first visitors after they had anchored. He smiled faintly. Dropped her hook… Yovell was saying, 'In a few weeks it will be Christmas again. And we don't even know if the war with the Yankees is over.'
Avery, still gazing out idly, saw another local sailing craft pass Frobisher's quarter. Eyes everywhere. The news of their destruction of the Algerine pirates would have preceded them, too. He thought of Black Swan's commander, Norton Sackville. Even in the crowded wardroom, he remained alone. Avery knew what such isolation was like, while he had been waiting for the unwarranted court martial, and had seen former friends cross the road to avoid contact with him.
Ozzard appeared and said stiffly, 'Sir Richard's not here, then? Must be still on deck for entering harbour.'
Allday stood up abruptly. 'I'll take his sword.' It was suddenly important, and he knew Avery was watching him with his steady cat's eyes.
Avery said, 'It'll be a while yet. Another hour, the master informs me.'
Allday took down the sword, nonetheless. Remembering all those other times, the excitement, the madness, the survival. Always the pain.
It was still damp on deck, and the air was surprisingly cool, reminding him of what Yovell had said. It was November now, but hard to compare with England 's bare trees and angry, autumnal coastline.
The watch on deck were at their stations, and Allday noticed the extra lookouts aloft for the final approach. He thought of Captain Tyacke blaming himself for losing the Black Swan; you could never be too careful with so many mindless natives controlling all these hundreds of small vessels. Not a true seaman amongst them.
He found Bolitho with Tyacke by the quarterdeck rail, shading his eyes while he watched the land opening out to greet them. There was an anchored sloop-of- war close by, her yards and rigging full of cheering seamen as their flagship passed slowly abeam.
Allday gave a satisfied grin. As it should be.
Bolitho saw him, and the sword. That was thoughtful, old friend… I was looking at the harbour, preparing myself for what we might expect.'
Allday fastened the sword into place. The belt needed adjusting; Sir Richard was losing weight. He frowned. One of Unis's pork pies, now, that would be more like it.
Kellett called, 'Signal that fool to stand away!' He sounded sharper than usual, on edge.
A master's mate said, 'Guard boat, sir!'
Bolitho walked to the side and saw the smart pinnace with a midshipman and a captain of marines in the stern sheets coming about to lead them in; the marine stood to raise his hat in salute. He had always enjoyed the moment of entering harbour, no matter where it might be, but his heart refused to rise to it. He thought suddenly of Keen; he would be married by now, and a port admiral in his own right. He wondered who else would have been at the wedding. Bethune, perhaps even Thomas Herrick. He bit his lip. No, not Thomas. He had never healed the rift between himself and Keen.
She would be good for Val. Strong enough to stand up to his overbearing father, woman enough to help him forget.
'Guard boat is comin' alongside, sir!' The master's mate sounded shocked at such a breach of procedure.
Kellett shouted, They have a message for the admiral! Lively there, Mr. Armytage! Your people are all like old women this morning!'
'Stand by for entering harbour! Hands aloft, Mr. Gilpin!'
Bolitho raised his arm to the guard boat as the oars backed water, and swung the stem towards the sand- coloured fortifications once again.
Tyacke said, 'Carry on, Mr. Kellett.'
Armytage arrived on the quarterdeck, still flushing from Kellett's rebuke and the grins from various seamen. It was his first commission as a lieutenant.
He saw Avery and hurried across, a small package, wrapped in oilcloth, in his hand.
Bolitho said, 'Here, Mr. Armytage!'
He felt the others watching him, as if unable to move while the ship and her tall shadow carried them forward, some invisible force in command.
Thank you, Mr. Armytage.' He unfolded the oilcloth carefully, his head turned very slightly to correct the imbalance of his vision. Then the paper; for a moment he held it in his hands. A carefully pressed rose, velvet-red, as he had seen them so many times. Again he read the card, the writing he knew so well. I am here. We are together.
Avery's voice broke in anxiously. 'Is something amiss, Sir Richard? Can I…'
Bolitho could not look at him, remembering yesterday's verdict from Lefroy. He answered quietly, 'A miracle, George. They do happen after all.'
They stood side by side on a small balcony which looked down over a cobbled courtyard and an arched entrance from the street. There was a fountain in the centre of the courtyard, but. like the cobbles, un cared for, and full of weeds browned by the Maltese sun. There were servants, unobtrusive and unseen, their presence marked by fresh fruit and wine in the room behind them.
Even the island's sounds were distant and muffled, someone singing, or perhaps chanting in a strange, quavering voice, and the regular clang of a chapel bell.
She turned slightly inside his arm, which had never left her waist since they had stepped on to the balcony. She felt his fingers tighten, as if he still could not believe it, as if he was afraid to release her, and like a dream it would all be lost.
