Spray and spindrift whipped across the weather side, and every timber and stay seemed to be groaning in a protesting chorus.
Bolitho shouted, 'Lay her round another point, Mr. Herrick! We will steer west-by-south!'
Herrick nodded, his face running with spray. 'Afterguard to the mizzen braces!' He shook his speaking trumpet angrily. 'Keep together, damn you!'
A marine had slipped and fallen in a scarlet heap, knocking several of his comrades into confusion.
Bolitho pointed abeam, to the first glitter of white crests as the wind did its work.
'She's steadier, Mr. Herrick 1' He relaxed as the experienced seamen rushed aft to help the marines and less skilled hands on the mizzen braces. 'And not a man hurt, by the looks of it!'
Undine had paid off stiffly to the wind, her shrouds and ratlines shining jet-black against the rising swell. But with her yards comfortably braced, and canvas reduced to topsails and jibs, she was making the best of it.
Davy panted on to the quarterdeck, his shirt wringing and sodden.
'All secure, sir!' He lurched backwards, tottered and then reeled against the nettings, adding savagely, 'By the Lord, I'd forgotten what a real gale felt like 1'
Bolitho smiled. 'Dismiss the watch below. But tell the boatswain to make regular inspections. We can't afford to lose precious gear for want of a good lashing.' He turned to Herrick. 'Come below with me.'
Despite the din of sea and strained timbers it seemed warm and inviting in the cabin. Bolitho watched the spray making diagonal patterns across the stern windows, heard the rudder grinding and squeaking while the helmsmen held the frigate on her new course.
Noddall pattered into the cabin, his small body steeply angled as he fetched goblets for the two officers.
Herrick wedged himself in a corner of the bench seat and regarded Bolitho questioningly.
'If we have to run before the wind, would it make so much difference, sir?'
Bolitho thought of his written orders, Conway's brief but lucid instructions.
'It might.' He waited until they both had goblets and said, 'To what we can achieve, Thomas!'
errick chuckled. 'I'll share that toast.'
Bolitho sat at the desk, feeling the deck tilting and then sliding into yet another trough.
He was glad he had insisted that Keen and some of the other wounded had been left at Pendang Bay. Too much of this sort of motion would burst open even the finest stitches.
He said, 'Admiral Conway intends to let Bedford put to sea as soon as we are on our way to the Benua Islands. I think he wishes to get rid of the Spanish troops and dependents as soon as possible.'
Herrick watched him. 'Bit risky, isn't it, sir? With the damned Argus still at large?'
Bolitho shook his head. 'I think not. I am certain the French or Muljadi will have agents watching Conway's settlement. They will have seen us weigh anchor. Argus will know we are coming well enough.'
Herrick looked glum. 'They are as clever as that, eh?'
'We must assume so. I think Conway is right. Better to get Bedford away with her passengers and despatches for Madras before things get any worse.'
'If there's a real storm, it'll put paid to everything.' Herrick cheered up somewhat. 'The Frogs don't like bad weather.'
Bolitho smiled at Herrick's confidence. 'This one may not care. He has been in these waters a long time, I believe. He is not one of the hit-and-run kind who used to dash out of Brest or Lorient and flee for home again at the sight of an English ship.' He rubbed his chin. 'This Le Chaumareys interests me, I would like to know more of him than his record in battle.'
Herrick nodded. 'He appears to know a lot about you, sir,,
'Too much.'
A steep roller cruised beneath the quarter, holding the ship up and tilting her forward at a steeper angle before freeing her again to sidle into the next rough. Beyond the closed door them heard the marine sentry slip and fall, his musket clattering away while he cursed and fought to regain his composure.
Bolitho said slowly, 'When we meet with Argus's captain ve must keep our eyes well opened. If he agrees to parley, we may learn something. If not, we must be ready to fight.'
Herrick frowned. 'I'd rather fight, sir. It's the only way l know how to be at ease with a Frenchman.'
Bolitho thought suddenly of that room at the Admiralty, the calm features of Admiral Winslade as he had given a brief outline of Undine's mission. Four months back. A time of peace, yet ships had foundered, and men had been killed or crippled for life.
But even the lordly power of admiralty, the guile and experience of politics were useless out here. A solitary, wind-swept frigate, minimum resources, and no guiding hand when one might be needed.
Herrick took Bolitho's quiet mood as a signal. He placed his goblet inside the table fiddles and rose carefully to his feet.
'Time to do my rounds, sir.' He cocked his head to listen as water gurgled and sluiced along the quarterdeck scuppers. 'I have the middle watch, and may snatch a cat-nap before I face the breeze.'
Bolitho pulled out his watch and felt Herrick looking at it. 'I will turn in now. I have a notion we may all be needed before long.'
In fact, it felt only minutes after his head had touched the pillow that someone was clinging to the cot and tapping his shoulder. It was Allday, his shadow rising and falling like a black spectre as the cabin lantern swung violently from the deckhead.
'Sorry to wake you, Captain, but it's getting far worse up top.' He paused to allow Bolitho's brain to clear. 'Mr. Herrick told me to pass the word.'
Bolitho stumbled out of the cot, instantly conscious of a new, more uneven motion. As he pulled on his breeches and shoes and held out his arms for a heavy tarpaulin coat he asked, 'What time is it?'
Allday had to shout as the sea thundered against the hull and surged angrily along the upper deck.
'Morning watch is about to be called, sir!'
'Tell Mr. Herrick! Call them now!' He gripped his arm and together they lurched half across the cabin like two tipsy sailors. 'I want all hands directly! I'm going to the chart space.'
He found Mudge already there, his lumpy figure sprawled across the table while he peered at the chart, blaspheming quietly as the lantern went mad above his head.
Bolitho snapped, 'How is it?'
He glanced up at him, his eyes red in the feeble glow.
'Bad, sir. We'll 'ave the canvas in shreds unless we lie to for a bit.'
Bolitho peered at the chart. Plenty of sea-room. That was the only consolation.
He hurried towards the quarterdeck ladder and almost fell as the ship swayed and corkscrewed in two separate motions. He fought his way to the wheel, where four helmsmen, their bodies lashed firmly to prevent their being caught unawares by an incoming wave, were fighting the spokes, their eyes glowing in the flickering compass light.
Herrick shouted, 'I've called all hands, sir! And I've put extra ones on the pumps!'
Bolitho peered at the jerking compass card. 'Very well. We will lie to under shortened maintops'l. Get Davy to put the best men aloft at once!'
He turned as a sound like gunshot echoed above the shriek of wind and sea, and saw the mizzen topsail rip itself apart, the fragments tearing yet again into ragged streamers, pale against the low, scudding clouds.
He could hear the dismal clank of pumps, hoarse cries as men blundered to their stations, dodging below the gangways as more frothing water flooded amongst them.
Fowlar shouted, 'The sailmaker has only just repaired that cro'jack, sir!' He was grinning, in spite of the confusion. 'He'll not be pleased!'
Bolitho was watching the black shapes of the topmen as they climbed cautiously up the vibrating ratlines. The wind flattened them occasionally against the shrouds, so that they hung motionless before starting up again for the topsail yards.
Mudge yelled, 'Th' quarter boat 'as carried away, sir!'
No one paid any heed, and Herrick spluttered in spray before saying, 'There goes the foretops'l, sir! Those lads are doing fine.'