Command a King`s Ship

He escaped and was recaptured.'

Herrick whistled quietly. 'I imagine the Dons were hard with him.'

Bolitho thought suddenly of the elderly Colonel Pastor and his impossible mission.

'The Dons lopped off a hand and an ear and left him marooned on some desolate beach.'

Herrick shook his head. 'Yet somehow he reached the Indies, and can now strike fear into his old masters.'

Bolitho regarded him impassively. 'Or whoever stands between him and his final goal, whatever that may be.'

They both stared up as Keen yelled, 'Deck there! Cutter's signalled, sir! Mr. Davy points to the north'rd 1'

Bolitho snatched a glass. 'Of course! I should have realised!'

He trained it on the cutter, and then beyond to the gently sloping cape. Tiny islets, crumbling ridges and rocks, and everywhere the unbroken backcloth of green. Any small vessel could work her way through there, as Davy's cutter was now doing.

Herrick slammed his fists together. 'Got 'em, by God!'

Bolitho said crisply, 'We will remain on this tack for the present. Hoist the recall signal for Mr. Davy and then beat to quarters.' He smiled, if only to ease the mounting excitement. 'In ten minutes maybe?'

Herrick waited until Keen had shinned down a backstay to rejoin his signal party and then yelled, 'Beat to quarters! Clear for action!'

A solitary drummer-boy did the best he could, his sticks blurring in double-time as the tattoo brought the hands tumbling from hatchways and gratings.

'That might frighten 'em off, sir.'

Mudge was by his helmsmen, his jowl working on some meat or a quid of tobacco. There was little to choose between them, Bolitho often thought.

'I believe otherwise.'

Bolitho watched the bare-backed seamen dashing to their guns, casting off the lashings and groping for the tools of their trade. A reduced detachment of marines, under the command of a solitary corporal, was parading across the quarterdeck, while a handful more clambered aloft to the foretop and its swivel gun.

The cutter had already turned bows-on, her sails lowered, and thrusting through the inshore swell under oars alone.

'They will not have met with many frigates, I'm thinking. Their leader will try to reach open sea and outreach us, rather than face a blockade or the risk of our landing marines at his back.' He touched Mudge's arm impetuously. 'He'll not know how unused we are to such affairs, eh?'

Mudge pouted. 'I only 'ope that bugger Muljadi is 'ere, too! 'E needs to be taught a lesson, an' double quick, in my reckonin'!'

'Deck there!' The lookout at the masthead waited until the scamper on the gun deck stopped. 'Sail on th' lee bowl'

'By heaven, so there is!' Midshipman Keen gripped a seaman's arm and added excitedly, 'Schooner by the cut of her!'

The seaman, pigtailed, and with ten years in the Navy, glanced at him and grinned.

'By God, I envy you young gennlemen your learnin', sir!'

But his sarcasm was lost in the excitement of the moment.

Herrick held up his hand as the last gun captain faced aft towards him. From the break below the quarterdeck a bosun's mate shouted, 'All cleared aft, sir!' Herrick swung round and saw Bolitho examining his new watch.

'Cleared for action, sir.'

'Twelve minutes, exactly.' Bolitho glanced up at the masthead. 'But for the lookout's hail, I believe you may have done it in less.' He let the mock formality drop. 'Well done, Mr. Herrick and pass the word to all hands.'

He walked back down the angled deck and trained his glass across the nettings. Two raked masts with big dark sails. Like wings. They appeared motionless, the hull still hidden beyond one more probing spit of land. It was an illusion. She was edging around the last dangerous point. After that she would be up and away. But it would take her a good while yet.

He swung round. 'Where is that damned cutter?'

Mowll, the master-at-arms, and easily the most unpopular man aboard, called, 'Comin' up fast, sir!'

'Well, signal Mr. Davy to make haste. I'll have to leave him astern otherwise.'

'Deck there! 'Tis another sail on th' lee bow!'

Herrick watched in silence until he had discovered the second pair of sails in his glass.

'Another schooner. Probably Company ships taken by these pirates.,

'No doubt.'

Bolitho turned to watch the cutter swinging round to drive beneath the main chains with a shuddering thud. Curses and clattering oars, all were finally quenched by Davy's angry voice and the more patient tones of Shellabeer, the boatswain, who was studying the whole manoeuvre from the gangway with obvious disgust.

Allday had been standing behind Bolitho and whispered, 'Should have had young Mr. Armitage in charge, Captain. He'd have driven right through into the spirit store, cutter an' all!'

Bolitho smiled and allowed Allday to buckle on his sword. He had not seen his coxswain since breakfast, just after dawn. Yet the moment of danger, a hint of action, and he was here. Without fuss, and hardly a word to betray his presence. Maybe.'

He saw Midshipman Armitage with Soames below the foremast, checking a list of gun crews which Soames had reallotted on passage from India. He found a moment to wonder what Armitage's mother would think if she saw her adored boy now. Leaner, and well tanned, his hair too long, and his shirt in need of a good wash. She would probably burst into tears all over again. But in one way -he had not changed. He was still as clumsy and as lacking in confidence as his first day aboard.

Little Penn, on the other hand, who was strutting importantly beside the starboard battery of twelve-pounders and waiting to assist Lieutenant Davy, had no such handicap. If anything, he was prone to attempt tasks which were several spans of experience beyond his twelve years.

Davy came struggling aft, ducking beneath a swinging shadow as the cutter was hoisted inboard and on to its chocks above the gun deck. He was soaked in spray, but very pleased with himself.

Bolitho said, 'That was well done. By making a quick sighting-report, you have given us an edge on those two vessels.'

Davy beamed. 'Some prize-money perhaps, sir?'

Bolitho hid a smile. 'We will see.'

Herrick waited for Davy to join his gun crews and then said, 'Just the two schooners. Nothing else in sight.' He rubbed his hands noisily.

Bolitho lowered the telescope and nodded. 'Very well, Mr. Herrick. You may load and run out now.' He glanced at the masthead pendant for the hundredth time. 'We will make more sail directly, and show these pirates what they are against.'

'Both schooners are keeping well inshore, sir.' Herrick lowered his telescope and turned to watch Bolitho's reactions. 'With that rig they can sail really close to the wind.'

Bolitho walked to the compass, the picture of the two other vessels sharp in his mind. For over half an hour they had worked slowly and methodically between a small crop of islets, and were now following the coastline towards a sloping spur of headland. Around that there was yet another bay, with more jutting spits of land, but the schooners would choose their moment most carefully. Go about and dash for the open sea, separate perhaps, and so lessen Undine's chances of conquest.

They were both well-handled vessels, and through his glass he had seen an assortment of small cannon and swivels, and an equally varied selection of men.

Mudge watched him gloomily. 'Wind's backed a'piece, sir. Might 'old.'

Bolitho turned and stared along his ship, weighing the risks and the gains. The green headland was reaching down towards Undine's starboard bow, or so it appeared. In fact, it was still some three miles distant. The two schooners, black against the lively wave crests, seemed to overlap into one ungainly craft, their great sails etched across the land.

He said firmly, 'Get the t'gallants on her, and alter course two points to starboard.'

Herrick stared at him. 'It'll be close, sir. If the wind veers we'll be hard put to beat off the shore.'

When Bolitho did not reply he sighed and lifted his speaking trumpet.