Bolitho clasped his hands behind him. An average wardroom, he thought. No better, no worse than most, yet he was about to ask more of them than would be expected from a veteran company.
'You know me well enough by now to understand that I dislike speeches. Making or listening to them.'
He saw Herrick grin, and Mudge's tiny eyes vanish on either side of the great nose.
'At the beginning of this commission there were many aboard, wardroom included, who thought my methods too hard, my ideals too high for a ship on a peacetime mission. Now all of us know that things have changed, and our experience, our training is the only thing of value we have to protect us, and more to the point, those who are depending on our ability.'
He nodded to Herrick. 'Open the chart.'
As Mudge leaned forward to weigh down Herrick's chart with books and brass dividers he took another glance at their faces. Anviety, trust? It was too early to know.
He continued, 'The schooner will sail directly into the main channel, using the easterly headland for cover until the last available moment. Once on course for the rocks at the foot of the cliff,' he paused to lay the dividers on the small cross, 'the helm will be lashed, and the crew will take to the boat. They will be recovered later.' He made himself smile, although his heart felt strangely heavy. 'After we have excised the two frigates while their people are still collecting their wits!'
Penn said, 'We'll show 'em, sir!' He quailed under Mudge's withering stare.
'And sve,' Bolitho smiled at the scarlet-faced midshipman, 'driven on by Mr. Penn's enthusiasm, will move into the channel, rake both anchored ships, come about and rake 'em again.' He looked at Davy. 'So tell all gun crews to look alive. The first broadsides will be the telling ones.'
Bellairs drawled, 'Bit of a chance for the schooner, I'd say, sir. All that gunpowder aboard. One heated ball from the battery, and up she goes.' He blinked under Bolitho's level stare and added, 'No disrespect to the bold fellows aboard her, of course, but where would it leave us?'
Bolitho shook his head. 'The battery is old. I am almost certain that heated shot will not be available, for fear of splitting the guns. Normally they would not need it. With such an arc of fire, the battery can hit any vessel once itis within the two main channels.'
He smiled to hide the sudden doubt which Bellairs had laid in his mind. Suppose there was heated shot already simmering in furnaces? But he would have seen them, surely? No baskets could hoist glowing balls to that high rampart.
He said, 'And we will know that most of that battery is lying in the sea, where it should have been years ago.'
'We will weigh at first light tomorrow. The wind seems to be in our favour, and with luck it will serve our purposes. There remains just one matter…' He paused and saw Herrick watching him 'from across the cabin.
But he must not think of his friend. The best and firmest one he had ever had. He was his first lieutenant, the most competent officer in the ship. Nothing more counted. It must not.
He continued, 'Mr. Herrick will command the schooner.'
Herrick nodded, his face expressionless. 'Aye, sir. I'll take six good hands. Should be enough.'
Bolitho held his gaze, the rest of the officers fading around him as he said, 'I will leave it to you. If Potter wishes to join with you, then take him.' He saw Whitmarsh rising to protest and added harshly, 'He knows the channel. We need all we can get.'
The door opened slightly and Carwithen thrust his head into the lantern light.
'Beg pardon, sir, but the water casks 'ave been stowed, an' a message 'as been sent to say that the schooner is fully loaded.'
His gaze shifted to Fowlar, but there was no recognition. Fowlar's first step to promotion had already marked them apart, although it was possible they had never had much in common, Bolitho thought.
'Very well.' Bolitho waited for the door to close. 'Carry on, gentlemen. You '-all have your duties to attend.' He faltered, wondering why there were never the right-words when you needed them most. 'We will have little time for discussion until this matter is settled.' Or we are all dead. 'Remember this, and remember it well. Our people will be looking to you, more than they, or you ever expected. Most of them have never been in a real sea fight, and when we last met with Argus many still believed we had won a battle rather than secured a retreat. This time there can be no retreat, for us, or the enemy. Le Chaumareys is a fine captain, probably the best ever produced by France. But he has one weakness.' He smiled gravely. 'One which we have not yet enjoyed. That of supreme confidence in his ship and himself. His belief, and your skill and determination will win the day for us if anything can.'
They stood up, silent and grim-faced, as if only just aware _ of their responsibilities. The finality of their position.
Then as they moved towards the door Bolitho said, 'A moment, Mr. Herrick.'
Alone together in the gently pitching cabin, Bolitho said, 'I had no choice.'
'I would have been dismayed, had you selected a junior, sir.' Herrick smiled. 'So there's an end to it.'
Bolitho held out his hand. 'May God protect you, Thomas. If I have misjudged this affair, or the enemy outwits us, then pull back at once. If I signal a recall, then abandon your attempt. If die we must, then I want you with me.'
Herrick gripped his hand tightly, his blue eyes suddenly concerned.
'Enough of this talk, sir! It is not like you. Win we must, and here's my hand on it!'
Bolitho followed him towards the door. Hating the moment. Conscious of the weight which he had caused to fall on his own shoulders. She had seen his danger, as had Le Chaumareys. Perhaps Herrick also.
On deck, in the noise and bustle of preparing for sea, the contact was at last broken.
Herrick said, 'I'll go and pick my hands, sir.'
Bolitho nodded, his heart aching. 'Carry on, Mr. Herrick. The second lieutenant will relieve you forthwith.'
As Herrick melted into the shadows Davy crossed the quarterdeck and touched his hat.
Bolitho said, 'I am sorry about your schooner. I seem to have little choice in anything at the moment.'
Davy shrugged. 'It does not seem to matter any more, sir. For once, I cannot see further than the next few days, nor care either.'
Bolitho seized his arm savagely and swung him round. 'Has nothing I said to you made any sense?'
Davy struggled in his fierce grip and blurted out, 'I-I am sorry, sir!'
'You will be if I hear you talking like that again! Your responsibility is to me, the ship and the people you command. Not to your own personal considerations. When a man starts to believe there are no more tomorrows, he is as good as sewn up in a hammock between two round-shot. Think of the tomorrows, believe in them, and the men who depend on your skill, or lack of it, will see their own survival on your face!' He relaxed his hold and added in a steadier tone, 'Now be off with you.'
He began to pace along the larboard side, his feet stepping automatically over ringbolts and gun tackles, although his eyes saw none of them. He had not been reprimanding Davy, but himself. It was no time for doubt or recrimination, but only for living the role he had adopted, had earned in a dozen battles or more.
'Boat ahoyl' The challenge rang out from the gangway where lanterns glinted_on-levelled-muskets-and bayonets.
From the bay itself came the reply, 'Don Luis Puigserver wishes to come aboard!'
Davy came hurrying aft. 'Is that in order, sir?'
Bolitho smiled, calm again. 'I was expecting him, I believe.' The stocky figure rose through the port and hurried across
the deck to greet him.
Puigserver said, 'I had to come, Capitan. Nervion's loss made me a part of this. I cannot withdraw until the matter is settled.' He patted the ornate pistols beneath his coat. 'And I am an excellent shot, no?'