'What do you remark as the most significant difference, Mr Gillespy, between these fellows and our own, eh?' Drinkwater asked.
'Why… I don't know, sir. They make a deal of noise…'
Drinkwater looked pleased. 'Exactly so. They are a great deal noisier and many officers would judge 'em as inferior because of that; but remark something else. They are also excited and cheerful. I'd say that, just like our fellows, they're spoiling for a fight, wouldn't you?'
'Yes. I suppose so, sir.' A frown crossed the boy's face. 'Sir?'
'Mmmm?' Drinkwater looked up from his journal.
'What will happen to us, sir, if this ship goes into battle?'
'Well, Mr Gillespy, that's a difficult question. We will not be allowed on deck and so, by the usages of war, will be required to stay here. Now do not look so alarmed. This is the safest place in the ship. Very few shot will penetrate this far and, although the decks above us may be raked, we shall be quite safe. Do not forget that instances of ships actually being sunk by gunfire are rare.
'So, let us examine the hypothesis of a French victory. If this is the case we shall be no worse off, for we may have extra company and that will make things much the merrier. On the other hand, assuming that it is a British victory, which circumstances, I might add, I have not the slightest reason to doubt, then we shall find ourselves liberated. Even if the ship is not taken we shall almost certainly be exchanged. We shall not be the first officers present in an enemy ship when that ship is attacked by our friends.' He smiled as reassuringly as he could. 'Be of good heart, Mr Gillespy. You may well have something to tell your grandchildren ere long.'
Gillespy nodded. 'You said that to me before, sir, when the French squadron got out of Rochefort.'
'Did I? I had forgotten.' The captain took up his pen again and bent over his journal.
This remark made Gillespy realise the great distance that separated them. He found it difficult to relate to this man who had shown him such kindness after the harshness of Lord Walmsley. In his first days on board Antigone it had seemed impossible that the captain who stood so sternly immobile on the quarterdeck could actually have children of his own. Gillespy could not imagine him as a father. Then he was made aware from the comments of the crew that Drinkwater had done something rather special in getting them out of Mount's Bay and from that moment the boy made it his business to study him. The attentions paid him by the captain had been repaid by a dog-like devotion. Even captivity had seemed tolerable and not at all frightening in the company of Captain Drinkwater. But bereft of that presence, Gillespy had felt all the terrors conceivable to a lonely and imaginative mind. He had implored Quilhampton to request he be allowed to join the captain.
Quilhampton acceded to the boy's request, aware that their captors were in any event likely to separate him and the midshipmen from Drinkwater. In due course Drinkwater would probably be exchanged and Gillespy might have a better chance with the captain. He and Frey would have to rely upon their own resources. James Quilhampton was determined not to remain long in captivity. Let the Combined Fleet sail, as everyone said they would, and he would make an attempt to escape, for the thought of Catriona spurred him on.
Now Gillespy waited patiently for Drinkwater to stop writing notes, watching the men of the Bucentaure who messed in the orlop coming below for their midday meal. He listened to their conversation, recognising a word or phrase here and there, and recalling some of the French his Domine had caned into him in Edinburgh all those months ago.
'I think, sir,' he said after a while in a confidential whisper, 'the wind has failed… They are laughing at one of the Spanish officers who must have come on board… I cannot make out his name… Grav… something.'
'Gravina?'
'Yes, yes that is it. Do you know what "manana" means sir, in Spanish?'
'Er, "tomorrow", I believe, Mr Gillespy, why?'
'And "al mar" must be something to do with the sea; because that fellow there, with the bright bandana and the ear-rings, he keeps throwing his arm in the air and declaiming "manana al mar".' He frowned again, 'I suppose he's imitating this Spanish officer.'
'That is most perceptive of you, Mr Gillespy. If you are right then Gravina has been aboard and announced "tomorrow to sea".' Drinkwater paused reflectively, 'Let us hope to God that you are right.'
He smiled again, encouraging the boy, yet aware that they might not survive the next few days, that ships might not be easily sunk by gunfire but ordinary fire, if it took them, might blow them apart as it had L'Orient at Abukir. Staring at the fire-screens round the entrances to the powder magazines, Drinkwater felt the sweat of pure fear prickle his back. Down here they would be caught like rats in a trap.
Towards evening Lieutenant Guillet came to see them. His neck linen was grubby and he looked tired after an active day, but he was courteous enough to apologise for ignoring them and clearly in optimistic spirits.
'Your duty has the greater call upon you than we do, Lieutenant,' said Drinkwater calmly.
'You are permitted 'alf-an-hour on deck, Capitaine. And you also,' he added to Gillespy, 'and then I am to take you to the General.'
Drinkwater saw Gillespy frown. 'Admiral Villeneuve, Mr Gillespy. Recall how I told you the French and Spanish use the terms interchangeably.'
The boy nodded and they followed Guillet on deck. The contrast with the previous day was startling. Amidships Bucentaure's boat had been hoisted on the booms. All the ropes were coiled away on their pins and aloft the robands of the harbour stow had been cast off the sails. A light breeze was again stirring from the eastward. Some of the ships had moved, warped down nearer the islets at the entrance of the harbour. The air of expectancy hanging over the fleet after the exertions of the day was almost tangible. The inactivity would now begin to pray on men's minds, and until the order was given to weigh, every man in that vast armada, some twenty thousand souls, would withdraw inside himself to consult the oracles in his heart as to his future in this world.
Drinkwater felt an odd and quite inexplicable lightness of spirit. Whenever the Bucentaure cleared for action he knew he too would be a victim to fear, but for the moment he felt strangely elated. He was no longer in any doubt that in the next day or so there was going to be a battle.
After his exercise period, Drinkwater was taken to Villeneuve's cabin. There was no secrecy about the interview; it was conducted in the presence of several other high-ranking officers among whom Drinkwater recognised Flag-Captain Magendie and Villeneuve's Chief-of-Staff, Captain Prigny. Another officer was in Rear-Admiral's uniform. He wore a silver belt around his waist and an air of permanent exasperation.
'Contre-Amiral Magon… Capitaine de frégate Drinkwater Charles…'
Magon bowed imperceptibly and regarded Drinkwater with intense dislike. Drinkwater felt he attracted more than his fair share of malice and was not long in discovering that Magon disapproved of Villeneuve's holding Drinkwater on his flagship. Drinkwater's knowledge of French was poor, but Magon's powers of dramatic and expressive gesture were eloquent.
Villeneuve was mastering his anger and humiliation with difficulty and Drinkwater glimpsed something of the problems he suffered in his tenure of command of the Combined Fleet. Eventually Magon ceased his diatribe, turned in disgust and affected to ignore the rest of the proceedings by staring fixedly out of the stern windows.