He walked across the deck and trained the telescope over the opposite quarter. Merlin's topsails were bright against the hard horizon, holding the first hint of sunlight.
Francis Troubridge was on time for his rendezvous… Now there was something for him to pass on to the commodore.
He closed the telescope. It might be more than he had bargained for.
"I shan't tell you again. Now do it!"
Monteith, losing his patience and his temper. He had been on deck without a break since the ship had dropped anchor, in sole charge. In fairness, he had shown no sign of flagging.
Adam thought of the drifting dhow which had begun the whole chain of events, and the surgeon's description when he had returned aboard after his precarious visit.
Four killed and two slightly injured, by canister shot, as expected. Murray had done what he could, but the dhow's crew had been eager to make their way without further interference, and to bury their dead when the time was right.
Murray seemed to take it in his stride; he was used to pain and death in every guise. He had even served at Trafalgar.
Where was the dhow now, he wondered. Perhaps sheltering in one of the countless coves that pockmarked this coast, hiding places for trader and pirate alike.
They had no choice. Today's enemy might be the law of the land tomorrow.
July an had joined him, frowning pensively.
"The schooner's got no anchor, sir. If that wind comes back, they'll have to stay under way."
Adam looked toward Merlin, but without the glass she was a blur between sea and sky.
"I'm sending the schooner to Gibraltar. If they need more proof, she should be enough. "He did not mention the commodore by name. "She'll need a prize crew."
He saw the question in Julyan's eyes. "Merlin will supply it."
He looked across the heaving water again, patches of sunshine now like drifting sand on the current. "We shall need all our people before you know it."
"They're manning one of th "cutters, sir. "That was Jago.
Always there, like a shadow.
Adam shaded his eye: Vincent was climbing down into the boat, unlike the last time, with only a minimum of hands at the oars.
He thought of the cabin, still in darkness below his feet. Just to sit for a few moments in the old chair. Or at the little desk, with her last letter…
He pushed away the temptation with great effort, and said quietly, "When you go below, Luke, "and sensed him moving closer, "fetch my prayer book, will you?"
Jago nodded. He knew who the other passengers would be in the cutter, and was surprised that it could still matter. Count for something. He had seen so many go over the side, good, bad, friend and enemy. But it did.
He waited long enough to see the cutter come alongside and the first lieutenant climb up the ladder which had been lowered for him. They were swinging out a net on block and tackle for the three dead men.
He saw Vincent hesitate as the captain met him by the gangway and reached out to grip both his hands.
"I am so proud of you, Mark. That was bravely done!"
He heard Vincent answer, "It was Lieutenant Squire, sir. I would have died, but for him."
The grip remained as the captain responded, "And that was bravely said!"
Jago went below, and nodded casually to the marine sentry as he pushed his way into the great cabin.
Morgan had been standing by the stern windows, and came to greet him. It was never too early or too late for him to be about and busy.
He said cheerfully, "You look scuppered, Luke, boyo. I've got just the something to liven you up! "He paused in the pantry door. "I see that they're back. It was a long night. "He waited, testing the moment. "Have you heard anything, old friend?"
Jago faced him squarely, no longer surprised that they had become so close.
"I think we're goin "to fight, "he said.
Commander Francis Troubridge stared across the water at the schooner.
"Yes, I can muster a prize crew for the run to Gibraltar. I have a master's mate who served in a schooner in "the bad old days", as he calls them. "He turned to look at his own command, a searching gaze which Adam understood and remembered. Like his own first ship, all that time ago. He had been even younger than Troubridge.
He was saying, "I'll have to see the commodore. "Again, the youthful smile Adam had come to know so well when he had been Bethune's hard-worked flag lieutenant. Only a few months ago…
The smile widened to a grin. "If he's still in command, of course!"
Adam said, "I have a report you must deliver to him. I doubt if it will surprise him. But he will not be pleased."
Troubridge walked with him to the quarterdeck rail. He did not need to be told that this was a matter of urgency.
Intelligence and intuition had served him well as a flag lieutenant, and he had needed both under Bethune. Do this, Flags, or Why wasn't I told, Flags? And Adam Bolitho he would never forget. On deck, under fire, men dying around them. And his face when the smoke had cleared, compassionate and self-critical, always questioning his own performance.
He had seen that Onward's capstan bars were shipped, with extra hands already mustered to weigh anchor yet again.
There was always tension and excitement in preparing to sail. Now he was feeling it more intensely himself, in command of his own ship.
And the familiar sight of corpses sewn in hammocks, awaiting burial. Not like that other time, when they had buried Catherine Somervell at sea, but Adam Bolitho would be recalling it when he did his duty by these three victims of battle.
He asked suddenly, "What do you intend, "and tried to smile, "sir?"
Adam saw him glance once more toward Merlin, almost protectively.
"D'you have a good first lieutenant, Francis?"
The question seemed to puzzle him, but he nodded. "He can give me a few years, and I sometimes think he wonders if I'm good enough for the task. "He laughed lightly. "I shall overcome it, I suppose."
Adam was watching the schooner.
"I was once told that envy and ambition often walk the same deck. "He turned back to Troubridge. "I believe Nautilus is being handed over to the Aboubakr government as a symbol of trust, and in the hope of future co-operation. France has made no secret of its ambitions in Africa."
"I was told as much, when Merlin was ordered to liaise with you and Saladin."
Adam hardly heard him.
"When we went to the aid of a merchant dhow, my surgeon went aboard to offer aid to some of their wounded. One was beyond help, and died while he was there. Murray is a good manЦ resourceful, too. The dying man gave him a name, and he remembered it. This morning, as dawn broke, my first lieutenant came across from our prize and brought me some documents, which some one had been trying to throw overboard in a weighted bag. Just a few items, some in French."
He paused, and Troubridge bent his head in concentration, listening closely. "And that same name featured prominently. Mustafa Kurt."
"But that's not a."
Adam smiled. "Originally he was Turkish. I don't know what flag he flies now. I first heard about him after the Algiers campaign. He had been overseeing the Dey's harbour defenses. And it was a damned close-run thing, as Our Nel would have put it."
Troubridge regarded him steadily. "And you think this Mustafa Kurt is going to try to overthrow the present power in Aboubakr, and seize NautilusT Adam saw Vincent on the gangway, waiting.
"I think he's already there. Has been from the beginning."
"My God! "He looked again at Merlin. "I'm not letting you sail alone! If it's true, he'll have the whole coast ablaze! D "you think I'd stand by and let you face it single-handed? It would be no mere cutting-out exploit this time!"
Adam took his arm and walked with him to the gangway. Merlin's gig was below the entry port, a side-party waiting to see Troubridge depart.