Pointer grasped his hand firmly; the grip was bony, too. 'Yes, sir, I just heard.' He looked at the unsmiling first lieutenant. 'And about Sir Graham Bethune. I have been out of contact with the commodore, you see. We did not know.'
Stirling said impatiently, 'The courier was blown up.'
Adam gestured to the rack of charts, all neatly folded, numbered and in order: knowing Dugald Fraser, they would be. Like his notes and personal log, even the gleaming dividers and rules were each in its place.
'Show me.'
Pointer opened a chart and flattened it on the table.
'Two weeks ago, it was, sir.' His forefinger touched the chart. 'I was in my usual patrol sector. I've had it since I commissioned Lotus, so I think I have the feel of it by now.' The finger moved. 'The sector runs from the Bahama Bank, westward to the Florida Straits. A regular run for slavers if they can slip past us.'
Adam sensed his pride, in what he was doing, more so perhaps in his command. He could easily picture the small ship, quite alone in that great span of islands and the countless channels that separated them. You could hide a fleet there, if the need arose.
Pointer said, 'We had been working the Straits for some time. The bigger slavers cross from Cuba to Florida to unload their cargoes before heading out into the Atlantic again. Some of them are large vessels, new and fast. They can often outrun our patrols.' The pride again. 'But not Lotus'
Pointer had pulled a ragged pad from his coat. This he laid on the chart. There were scribbled calculations and compass bearings, but Adam's gaze settled on the date, June sixth, the day after they had sifted through Celeste's pathetic remains and had found her only survivor.
He stared at the chart and the outline of Cuba, but for only a few seconds he saw Falmouth. June the sixth was his birthday, and it had completely slipped his mind.
Pointer had not noticed his expression. 'A big barque, she was, standing out of Havana, probably heading for Florida, under a full press of canvas. Sighted us and broke out the American flag, so I ordered her to heave to and await a boarding party.' He smiled and the strain showed itself for the first time. He was speaking to himself, reliving it. As if there was nobody else here.
'They often do that. The Yankees make such a huff-and-puff about any foreign officers trying to board one of their ships, and it often works, so the slaver gets clean away.' He peered at the charts again. 'So I ran out my guns and fired a couple of shots to warn him that I meant business.' He nodded slowly. 'I was ready for him. I'd heard about the heavy pieces some of those slavers carry. He went about and ran for the shore, back to Havana. He had the wind under his coattails and I could scarcely keep pace with him, the crafty bastard! ' He stared at Adam, and but for his tanned skin might have blushed. 'I beg your pardon, sir! '
The door opened two inches. It was Troubridge. 'I'm sorry, sir, but Sir Graham has asked me…' He fell silent, as if he were gripped by the tension and could not proceed.
Pointer said, 'I followed him into the harbour, and I anchored Lotus and was boarded by an army of officials. I insisted that the barque was a slaver, and that under the Agreement I wanted to search her and confirm this. It is well known amongst our patrols that the Spanish captain-general in Havana is quite prepared to accept false papers and offer clearance to a ship's master, even if he is a known slaver. A lot of money must change hands in the process.'
'But you found nothing?'
He shrugged. 'I was treated with every courtesy, but I was not allowed to search the ship. The captain- general's aide was surprised that I should imagine that in a civilized city like Havana slaves could be landed and moved elsewhere without the authorities knowing. A day later I was allowed to put a party on board. They found nothing, and the flag was Spanish by that time. I can still hear the jeers and the curses as we weighed and put to sea.'
'Perhaps you were lucky. An 'accident' might have been arranged for you and your Lotus'
Together they walked from the chart room, and into the shadows. Pointer stopped momentarily and looked up into the darker patterns of shrouds and stays.
'If this ship had been there, they would have sung a different tune! ' Yet he said it without bitterness, as if it was he who had failed in some way.
Almost as an afterthought, he dragged a canvas envelope from his coat. 'My full report, sir.' The smile returned. 'Addressed to the commodore, of course.'
He was almost asleep on his feet. He must have driven his ship without a break, a passage of some fourteen hundred miles. Adam could still recall when he had commanded a vessel not very different in size and performance, in which her captain was always the last to go off watch.
Troubridge took the envelope. 'I'll tell Sir Graham, sir.' But he was regarding the bony lieutenant with barely disguised awe.
He was back in a few minutes, or so it seemed.
'Sir Graham's compliments, and would you return to your ship and remain ready to proceed to sea…' He faltered, sharing Pointer's exhaustion. 'Tomorrow, before sunset, as ordered by the Flag.'
Adam walked with him to the entry port where Lotus'?' boat was already preparing to cast off.
'I am glad we met. I shall see you now when I hear the name of your command.'
They shook hands, and Pointer said, 'I remember when I was chasing a slaver, months ago, just before all the new rules had been agreed upon. I was almost up to him when he began pitching his slaves over the side. He did not have many left, but there were enough. The sharks were in a frenzy, and I shall never forget those last screams, and the silence.'
Adam touched his hat and watched him clamber down the side and into his boat.
He walked aft again, shadowy figures turning to watch him as he passed.
He could even feel the sentry's eyes beneath his leather hat as the door was opened for him.
Bethune sat at the table, Lieutenant Pointer's report carelessly spread across his knees.
He gestured with a knife. 'Didn't wait for you. Sir Baldwin must return to his headquarters. He has a lot to do because of this.' His tone hardened slightly. 'Some of it won't wait until tomorrow.'
Adam looked at the empty dishes and patches of spilled wine, like blood. He thought of Unrivalled, and the long patrols off the slave coasts of Africa. Freetown, and the bodies packed so tightly in the holds of captured ships that they could scarcely move or breathe. Human cargo. Like Pointer, he would never forget either.
The commodore came through the other door, Tolan and one of the servants at his elbows.
Bethune smiled, but did not stand up. 'Go with Sir Baldwin, will you, Flags? Explain to his duty officer what is required for tomorrow.'
Troubridge snatched up his hat and followed the swaying trio from the cabin.
Jago was already there, a bosun's chair rigged and ready for lowering the commodore into the gig alongside. He glanced sharply at Adam.
'You all right, Cap'n?'
Adam said only, 'When you get back aboard, lay aft to my cabin and have a wet with your captain.'
Jago bared his teeth, but did not smile. 'O' course, Cap'n, if the tackle was to run free while the commodore was bein' swayed outboard, I could be there all the faster! '
It had been a close thing. Adam gripped his arm.
'This is not what we have learned to accept, Luke, or been trained to fight. It's like chasing shadows.' He half turned as if to listen to the Lotus's boat pulling away from the side. 'I almost envied that officer just now, at least for his freedom to act as he thinks fit! '
Jago relaxed slightly as the mood changed.
Adam stifled a yawn and grinned. 'Almost.'
11. Trick for Trick
Lieutenant Roger Pointer, Lotus's, gangling commanding officer, swung away from the rail, his weariness giving way to a broad grin as Bolitho, the flag captain, appeared on deck. In the navy it was amazing how quickly sailors could adapt, adjust to any kind of change unexpectedly thrown upon them.
