Puigserver nodded grimly. 'Fair justice, too.'
Conway glared at him. 'It is the wildest plan I have ever discussed.'
Bolitho said quietly, 'I must argue that point, sir.'
'What?' Conway swung on him. 'Are you questioning me again?'
'I recall a certain captain, sir. Years back, when I was a stupid midshipman. He took a fair chance or so when he considered it necessary.'
Conway reached out and gripped his wrist. 'Thank you for that.' He looked away, patting his pockets as if searching for something. 'I'd forgotten.'
Bolitho said, 'The troops will have to remain here, of course.'
He thought he saw relief on Jardine's heavy face, resentment on his aide's. Strange, he thought, that the one who appeared the weaker was _the stronger after all. -
He added, 'If this plan fails, and we must face that possibility, it will be up to the sepoys to evacuate the settlement as best they can. But please take my word for this. No parley with Muljadi, for to him victory means only one thing. Extinction for all those who have represented his enemies throughout his entire life.' He pointed towards the window. 'And once through those palisades, there will be no time left for regrets,'
Conway returned to the table, his face very composed.
'I agree.' He glanced at Jardine. 'Set your men to work transferring powder to the schooner, every barrel and cask from our magazine, if that is what is needed.'
He looked at Bolitho. 'And who will command the schooner, have you thought of that?'
'I am not decided, sir.' He smiled gravely. 'Yet.'
He turned as Raymond walked around the table, show ng his face at last in the sunlight.
Raymond said, 'I acted as I thought fit.'
Conway nodded, his eyes contemptuous. 'If we survive this affair, you may yet share the advantages, if there are any.' His tone was like ice. 'If we fail, you will probably receive the knighthood you covet so dearly.' He paused as Raymond hurried to the door. 'Posthumously, of course!'
When he faced the table again Conway seemed about ten years younger.
'Now that I am decided, Bolitho, I cannot wait!'
Bolitho nodded. He could feel his muscles and bones aching as if from physical effort, and could barely realise what he had done, what he had committed himself and his ship to.
He said, 'I will return aboard now, sir. I need fresh water and fruit if there is any.'
Faces flashed across his thoughts. Carwithen with his axe embedded in the pirate's neck. Davy's pride at being given command of the schooner. Fowlar's genuine pleasure with his temporary promotion. And Herrick most of all. What would he say to this pathetic, desperate plan? Smile? Shake his head? Accept that at last his captain had made the one fatal mistake? For all of them.
Conway was saying, 'You are a sly-boots, Bolitho, more than I ever suspected.' He made as if to reach for the new decanter but changed his mind. 'If I am to lose my head, then it had better be a clear one, eh?'
Puigserver was touching one of the silver inkwells with a spatulate finger.
'When will it be, Capitan?'
'Early.' Bolitho watched him thoughtfully. Puigserver, too. Hehadbeeninthe story from thevery beginning. 'Dawn attack.'
Conway nodded. 'And if ever you have prayed for the wind to set fair, then do it from now on.'
Bolitho smiled. 'Aye, sir. I will bear that in mind.'
He made to leave, but halted as the admiral added gruffly,
'Whatever the outcome, we will have tried. Done our best.' When he turned towards the sunlight Bolitho was shocked to see the moisture in his eyes.
'Raymond was right, of course. I'm not the man for the appointment, nor do I suppose it was ever intended I should retain it once the settlement had been founded…' he hesitated, '… or lost. But we will show them.'
He strode to his private door and slammed it behind him
Puigserver_whistled. 'The old lion awakes, eh?'
Bolitho smiled sadly. 'If you have known him as I once did, senor. If you had seen the people cheering themselves hoarse, with the smoke of battle still thick between decks, then you would have understood.'
'Perhaps.' Puigserver grinned broadly. 'Now away with you, I think you have learned a great deal since we first met. About many things, eh?'
Bolitho walked out past a nodding servant, and then start-'d as someone touched his sleeve. It was Viola Raymond's nud, her face screwed up with fright as she whispered, 'This way sir! Just down here!'
Bolitho followed her quickly, and then saw the pale figure by a door at the far end of the passageway.
He asked, 'What is it? We should not meet like this.'
She stared at him, her eyes blazing. 'You are going to,.et killed! He just told me!' She threw her big hat on the floor and added angrily, 'And I don't care! I don't care what happens to you!' Then she threw herself against him, her voice breakingsn sobs as she cried, 'It's a lie! I do care, my darling Richard! I'll die if anything happens to you! I didn't mean to say those things.'
He held her chin in his hand. 'Easy, Viola.' He pushed the hair from her forehead. It was hot and feverish. 'I had no choice.'
Her body shook uncontrollably and she gripped his axt0s even tighter, oblivious to her maid, and the real possibility that someone might walk into the passage at any second.
'And no chance! No chance at all!'
Bolitho held her away and waited until she was calmer.
'I must go now. And I will take care.' He saw her returning anguish and said quickly, 'I must not damage my new watch, now must I?'
She tried to return his smile, the tears flowing freely down her face as she said, 'I would never forgive you.'
He turned and walked towards the stairway, and then stripped again as she called his name. But she did not follow him. Instead she held up one hand, as if he was already a long -,eay off. Beyond reach.
He found Allday waiting by the beached gig and said sharply, 'Back to the ship.'
Allday watched him curiously. 'They're taking powder casks to the schooner, Captain.'
'Is that a question?' He glared at him but Allday's face was unmoved.
'I was just thinking. Mr. Davy's not going to be happy about this.'
Bolitho clapped his arm. 'I know. And I have no excuse for taking out my temper on you.'
Allday squinted up at the timbered fort above the palisades, the white figure in one of the windows.
Under his breath he said, 'I know just how it feels, Captain.'
Bolitho twisted in the sternsheets to watch the boats busying themselves alongside the schooner. It had sounded so simple, so neat. To take two anchored frigates in a confined space was better than matching gun for gun in open waters. But many would curse his name as they died, nonetheless.
He sighed as the gig gathered speed towards the frigate. Puigserver had been right. He had learned a great deal since their meeting at Santa Cruz. Mostly about himself.
'All present, sir.' Herrick seated himself beside the cabin door and waited for Bolitho to speak.
Beyond the stern windows it was very dark, but it was possible to see the yellow lanterns moving back and forth between the settlement and the surf as the business of loading the schooner continued without pause.
Bolitho looked at the faces around the cabin. Everyone was here. He let his gaze rest briefly on Midshipman Keen. Even him, although the surgeon had told him he. would not be responsible for his condition. Keen looked strained, and whenever he moved it was easy to see the pain on his mouth and eyes. But he had insisted on rejoining the ship.
Mudge and Soames, Fowlar, looking slightly self-conscious at his first important conference. Davy, whose handsome features were still showing some of the dismay remaining from Bolitho's news about the schooner. Captain Bellairs, debonair and bland-faced in the gently spiralling lantern light. The purser, as mournful as ever. Armitage and Penn, like illmatched brothers, and lastly, below the skylight, Whitmarsh, the surgeon, his face glowing like a great beetroot.