Command a King`s Ship

He tried again. 'At least we shall have a rear admiral's flag at the mizzen when we reach Teluk Pendang, sir.'

The effect was startling. Conway spun round, his features working with sudden anger.

"'Was that slur intended? Does it give you some twisted pleasure to sneer? If so, I will damn soon break you for your insolence!'

Bolitho kept his voice calm, aware of Herrick watching nearby with obvious concern. 'I am sorry, sir. I meant no disrespect.'

Conway took a deep breath. 'No flag, Bolitho. I am the governor-elect of Pendang Bay, a place neither you nor most of the world has ever heard of until now.' The bitterness had put a new edge to his voice. 'To all intents I am out of naval service. What respect I receive at your hands will be arranged accordingly.'

Bolitho stared at him. It was suddenly all too clear. Conway had been putting off this moment, not out of haughtiness or from any sort of envy at Bolitho's steady promotion since their first meeting, but because he was a broken man.

'Then it will be done well, sir. That I can promise you.' He looked away. 'I have been fortunate in the Navy, in many cases I have been aided by sheer chance, or luck, as my first lieutenant would say. But I have never forgotten where I first gained the value of experience, and the patience of my own captain.'

Conway fumbled with his waistcoat, apparently oblivious to the sun across his neck and shoulders.

'That was kindly said.' He looked at his hands and then thrust them behind his back. 'May we, go below?'

In the cabin he moved about restlessly, touching the furniture, peering into corners without saying anything.

Then he looked at one of the wooden quakers and snapped, 'This was done for that woman, eh?'

'Yes, sir. But I will see that they remain until you are settled in your new command.' He had meant to say residence, but the word just slipped out.

Conway watched him, his thin face expressionless. Then he said, 'No. Have the guns replaced. I need no bloody pampering. I want this ship ready for anything. A few missing guns might make a world of difference.' He did not explain, but asked in the same abrasive tone, 'That woman? Mrs. Raymond. How did she stand up to three months in a fifth-rate, eh?'

'Better than I had expected.'

'Hmm.' He studied Bolitho grimly, his features in shadow. 'Watch yourself with her. She is three years older than you, but the gap in experience is immeasurably wider.'

Bolitho said hastily, 'Might I ask when sailing orders will arrive, sir?'

'Tomorrow probably, but I can tell you now. You will weigh the day after you receive your orders. No delays. Maximum haste. We will have company on the passage.'

'Sir?'

Bolitho was certain that Conway's thoughts were elsewhere, even though his ideas came out in perfect order.

'Brig. Don Puigserver has chartered her for his own use. Partly my suggestion. It is too close to the war for me to take a Don as a friend.'

'I see, sir.'

'You don't. But no matter.'

He walked to the stern windows and stared at the shoreline, at the countless tiny craft which jostled the waterfront like busy insects.

'I would like to stay aboard, Bolitho.' 'Until we weigh, sir?'

Bolitho looked around the cabin. Tiny compared with the residence ashore.

'Yes.' He swung away from the windows. 'D'you object?' Just for a second it was there again. The same voice which Bolitho still remembered.

'No, sir.' He smiled. 'I have been waiting to broach some wine I have brought from London, I '

'London?' Conway sighed. 'That cursed place. I've not set foot there for five years. A plague on it and its selfishness!'

'Perhaps it has changed since-'

'People do not change, Bolitho.' He touched his breast. 'Not here, inside. You, of all people, should know that. When I learned who commanded my transport, I knew you would be as you are. Not so merry-eyed and trusting perhaps, but you've not altered.'

Bolitho stayed silent, watching the emotions on the other man's face, each one perhaps representing a memory.

'Gorgon seems an eternity back in time. The best moments were with her, although I did not realise it was so.'

yBolitho said carefully, 'Your new post will probably make ou believe otherwise, sir.'

'You think that?' Conway smiled, but no humour touched his eyes. 'It is given to me because I will succeed. I must. There is nothing else left. When you make a slip, Bolitho, you sometimes get one final chance to redeem yourself.' He pounded one hand against the other. 'And I intend to succeed!'

There was a tap at the door and Allday stepped into the cabin.

'Who is this fellow?'

'My coxswain, sir.' Bolitho had to smile at the incredulous look on Allday's face.

'I see.'

Allday said, 'Mr. Herrick's respects, and could you come on deck to receive Bedford's captain.'

Bolitho excused himself to Conway and followed him from the cabin.

Allday muttered, 'Fellow, Captain? He was a trifle hard, I thought.'

Bolitho grinned. 'I am sure that when he knows you better he will call you by your first name!'

Allday faced him guardedly and then chuckled. 'No doubt, Captain.' He lowered his voice. 'A message has been sent aboard.' He held out an engraved card, tiny in his broad palm.

She had written across the back, Eight o'clock. Please come.

Bolitho stared from it to Allday's masklike face.

'Who gave you this?'

'A servant, Captain.' His eyes did not even flicker. 'The lady knows she can trust me.'

Bolitho turned away to hide his expression. 'Thank you.'

Allday watched him hurry up the quarterdeck ladder and grinned. 'It will do him good.' He saw the marine sentry watching him and snapped, 'Who are you gaping at?' He grinned again. 'My good fellow?'

9. Gift from a Lady

One hour before the morning watch was relieved Bolitho came on deck to enjoy the most peaceful time of the day. With his shirt open to his waist he crossed to the weather side and studied the set of each individual sail before going aft to consult the compass. Madras lay twelve days astern, but the wind, which had begun so promisingly, had lulled to a gentle breeze, so that even with all sails set it was unlikely they could maintain more than four knots.

Fowlar was scribbling on the slate beside the wheel, but straightened his back as Bolitho approached.

He touched his forehead and reported, 'East by south, sir. Full an' bye.'

Bolitho nodded and shaded his eyes to watch the sails again. The wind, such as it was, came from the south-west, and Undine's yards were braced well round, laying her over to the starboard tack. About a mile abeam the brig Rosalind had no difficulty in maintaining station on her heavier consort, and Bolitho found himself tempted to take a telescope and examine her more closely.

Fowlar seemed to think that he was expected to add something to his report and said, 'Might pick up before nightfall, sir. Mr. Mudge seems to think the wind'll freshen when once we enter the Malacca Strait.'

'Er, yes.'

Bolitho tried to compose himself. FromRosalind's deck Undine must make a beautiful sight under full canvas. But for once this gave him little consolation. He wanted to drive his ship faster to become involved with his mission. Ghosting along like this, even if idyllic for poet or artist, gave too much time for other thoughts.

He saw Davy hurrying towards him, frowning as he said, 'I beg pardon for not seeing you come on deck, sir.' He gestured towards the main mast. 'I was dealing with a complaint from a marine.' He added swiftly, 'Nothing important.'

,you are officer of the watch, Mr. Davy. You should know by now I don't interfere in your affairs merely to excite attention.' He smiled. 'A fine day, is it not?'

'Yes, sir.'

Davy followed his gaze over the nettings. The sea was very blue, and apart from the low-hulled brig there was not a speck of land or another ship to break the emptiness, its sense of vastness.