'We must find the flagship. Jack. The admiral must be told.'
Tyler tried to speak but the pain made him gasp.
Penrose persisted, 'Huntress was the last patrol. The guard-ship.'
Tyler tried again, and managed to say one word. ' Elba.'
It was enough.
Bolitho leaned back in his chair, his shirt clinging damply to the warm leather. Beyond the stern windows there was only darkness, whilst here in the cabin the shaded light from a solitary lantern threw shadows across the paintwork and the cheque red deck covering, like strange dancers keeping time with Frobisher's uneven movements.
How could a ship so large be so silent? There was only an occasional sound of feet overhead, or cordage being manhandled to trim a yard, or take the slack out of a sail.
He knew that he should sleep, just as he knew that he would be unable to do so. He covered his blind eye and looked at the unfinished letter which lay open on top of his chart.
Writing to Catherine always gave him a sense of conversing, of sharing the days and nights with her. Frobisher might be on passage for England before this particular letter was concluded.
He stood up and moved about the cabin, his hand brushing against one of the tethered guns. Even the metal felt warm, as if it had been fired only hours earlier.
They had not met with Huntress, and in his heart he knew
Tyacke had been humouring him with the belief that they would make a final contact before Bolitho handed over his command.
At first light they would come about and head for Malta. But until then… Allday was taking great care not to intrude upon his thoughts, but he was unable to conceal his relief that they were finally going home.
How would Allday settle down, what would he do? Proprietor of a small country inn, seeing the same faces every day, in a world where men discussed crops, livestock and the weather with equal authority. Not the sea…… But he would have Unis and little Kate. He would have to begin learning all over again. A different life. Like me.
He thought of going on deck, but knew that his presence would worry the watch keepers On the same tack and under reduced canvas, it would be hard enough for some of them to stay awake without their admiral pacing up and down. Tyacke would be in his cabin, planning, preparing for his ship's immediate future, and his own. Tyacke was probably the one person who had never expected hope to hold out its hand to him; the one man who so richly deserved it.
And what of Avery; would he remain in the navy or reconsider his uncle's offer? It was hard to imagine any one of his little crew in any life but this.
In fact Avery was on deck, clinging to the empty hammock nettings, and listening to the ship shuddering and groaning above and around him. Alan Tollemache, the third lieutenant, had the watch, but he had retreated to the poop after two attempts to open a conversation.
It was not that Avery disliked him, even though he tended to brag about himself and his family; it was simply that he wanted to be alone, to have only his thoughts and memories for company. It was difficult enough for any flag lieutenant to fit completely into wardroom life with its rules and traditions, and where every thought and idea was shared. It had to be that way; the lieutenants were a group apart, us and them. It was natural enough, but Avery had never been able to be anything but himself, and solitary.
He had been thinking deeply about the future, and what he might do when Bolitho's flag came down. Promotion,
and perhaps a small command of his own? He could sense a hundred arguments before he could even consider it. He served Sir Richard; to be appointed aide to some other flag officer was out of the question. His powerful uncle, Baron Sillitoe of Chiswick, then? He admired Sillitoe for having offered him a future, one of substance and prosperity, partly because he sensed what it had cost him to bend so far. He smiled, and tasted the raw salt on his lips. The prospect would certainly attract the beautiful Susanna. But even poor luffs had pride, and pride pulled in both directions.
With a sigh, he walked aft, tossing a casual wave to the dark group of figures around the compass box, and pausing as the poop's black outline loomed over him to glance again at the sky. No moon, and only an occasional star. It was a fine night after all, even during the hated middle watch. He was about to feel his way to the companion ladder when something caused him to hesitate, and to turn, as if someone had called his name.
But there was nothing. It was an intrusion into thoughts which had been quiet, meditative, and for some reason he was troubled by it.
When he climbed into his swaying cot the disquiet remained with him, and sleep was denied him.
As in all men-of-war, shorthanded or not, Frobishefs company were turned-to when there was barely enough light to mark sea from sky. It was always a time of bustle and purpose, and on this day there was not a man jack aboard who did not know that the ship, which was their home, their way of life, their reason for being, would soon be turning her jib boom towards the west, and eventually to England.
Kellett, the first lieutenant, was in charge of the morning watch, as the decks were washed down and the water casks filled with some of their last supply. The lazy breeze was heavy with greasy smells from the galley funnel.
Kellett saw the signals midshipman watching him, and said, 'Aloft with you, Mr. Singleton, and see if you can be the first to sight the wretched Huntress] And cling to the thought while you climb: after this, you may be the one giving orders to some snotty midshipman, if your wits serve you well in your examination!'
The midshipman ran to the shrouds and began the long climb up the ratlines.
Someone whispered, 'Cap'n, sir.'
Tyacke strode to the compass and glanced at the topsails, then his eyes found Singleton clawing his way past the maintop.
'He'll see nothing, I daresay.'
Kellett was watching the working parties being dismissed, and thought of the tasks he had detailed for the day.
Tyacke was saying, 'If the wind holds steady, we should make a fair passage.'
Kellett listened with some curiosity. The captain rarely made idle observations, any more than he ever showed uncertainty in the presence of his officers. He had been in awe of Tyacke when he had suddenly accepted this command, and resentful also. Now he could not imagine Frobisher without him.
Tyacke was observing Singleton's progress, remembering how Bolitho had once confided in him, and told him how the fear of heights had disturbed him as a 'young gentleman'. He had heard Kellett's remarks to the youth concerning promotion, and. reluctantly, he had concluded that Singleton might make a good officer, provided he had a captain to drive him.
Oblivious to all of them, the midshipman had reached the cross trees where a tanned and scarred seaman was already on duty. Singleton had seen him fumbling with a packet when he had appeared beside him, and guessed that the man had been chewing tobacco, a punishable offence while on watch.
Singleton unslung his telescope, pleased that he was not out of breath. He would not report the offender, and he knew that the seaman, an old hand, would remember him for it. He trained the glass with great care, recalling the admiral's words to him. My eyes.
There was an horizon at last, very thin and hard, like polished silver.
It would be strange to leave this ship, he thought, to take that once unimaginable step from midshipman's berth to wardroom. To be able to speak openly with fellow lieutenants, who, up until now, had seemed bent on making every midshipman's life a perfect misery.
The old seaman was studying him, the seriousness on his young features.
With one or two of the others, he would have remained silent, but the signals midshipman had always seemed fair enough.
He said calmly, There's a ship out yonder, Mr. Singleton.'
Singleton lowered the heavy glass and stared at him. 'If I can't see it with this, then I……' He grinned, and raised it again. 'Where away?'
'Larboard bow, very fine.'
Singleton tried again. Nothing. He knew about some of the older lookouts; it was a second sense, someone had told him.
