have both become used to the unexpected.' `Nevertheless…'
She turned as Hugh entered the room, a glass of brandy in one hand.
`Nevertheless, dear family, it is a serious affair. This is just the tip of the berg. God knows what that fool Morgan was about when he was killed, but no revenue man should act alone.' His eyes moved to Bolitho. `It is far worse than smuggling. At first we
believed it was the foul weather. Wrecks are common enough on this coast.'
Bolitho chilled. So that was it. Wreckers. The worst crime of all.
His brother continued in his clipped tones, `But we have received news of too many rich cargoes lost of late. Silver and gold, spirits and valuable spices. Enough, to feed a city, or raise an army.' He shrugged, as if weary of confidences. `But my duty is to seek out these murderers and hand them to the authorities. The whys and wherefores are not for a King's officer to determine.'
His mother said huskily, `But wreckers! How could they? Loot and rob helpless seamen…'
Hugh smiled gently. `They see their betters reaping a rich bounty from ships run ashore on their private land. Reason soon flies out of the window, Mother.'
Dancer protested, `But an accidental wreck is a far cry from being lured aground, sir!'
Hugh looked away. `Possibly. But not to the leeches who live off the trade.'
Dancer said, `Your presence here will be well known by now, sir.'
Hugh nodded. `I will warm a few palms, make a few promises. Some will give information just to send the Avenger somewhere else!'
Bolitho looked at his friend. This was a different kind of Navy. Where a commanding officer could use bribery to gain information, and then act independently without waiting for ponderous authority to give him its blessing.
The door flew open and Nancy rushed across the room and threw her arms around her brother's neck. 'Hugh! This really is a gathering of the clan!'
He held her away and studied her for several seconds.
`You are a lady now, well almost.' He raised his guard again. `We'll sail on the tide. I suggest you make your way to the harbour and hail a boat.' His tone hardened. `Don't fret, Mother, I have become very swift in matters of this sort. We shall have Christmas together if I have anything to say on it!'
As Bolitho closed the door to go to his room he heard his mother's voice.
`But why, Hugh? You were doing so well aboard your ship! Everyone said your captain was pleased with your behaviour!'
Bolitho hesitated. Unwilling to eavesdrop, but needing to know what was happening.
Hugh replied shortly, `I left the Laertes and was offered this command. Avenger's not much, but she's mine. I can lend weight and authority to the revenue cutters and excisemen, and do much as I please. I have few regrets.'
`But why did you decide so?'
`Very well, Mother. It was a convenience, if you must know. I had a disagreement…'
Bolitho heard his mother sob and wanted to go to her.
He heard Hugh add, `A matter of honour.'
`Did you kill someone in a duel? Oh, Hugh, what will your father say?'
Hugh gave a short laugh. `No, I did not kill him. Just cut him a trifle.'
He must have taken her in his arms for the sobs were quieter and muffled.
`And Father will not know: Unless you tell him, eh?'
Dancer waited at the top of the stairs.
`What is it?'
Bolitho sighed. `My brother has a quick temper. I think he has been in trouble over an affair.'
Dancer smiled. `In St James's there is always someone getting nicked or killed in duels. The King forbids it.' He shrugged. `But it goes on just the same.'
They helped each other to pack their chests again. Mrs Tremayne would only burst into tears if they asked her to do it, even at the promise of a quick return.
When they went downstairs again Hugh had disappeared.
Bolitho kissed his mother, and Dancer took her hand before saying gently, `If I never returned here, ma'am, this one visit would have been a great gift to me.'
Her chin lifted. `Thank you, Martyn. You are a good boy. Take care, both of you.'
Two seamen were at the gates, waiting to carry their chests to the boat.
Bolitho smiled to himself. Hugh had been that certain. Confident as ever. In control.
As they crossed the square by the inn Dancer exclaimed, `Look, Dick, the coach!'
They both stopped and stared at it as it rumbled off the cobbles and the horn gave a lively blare.
Back to Plymouth. It was even the same coachman and guard.
Bolitho gave a great sigh. `We had best get aboard the Avenger. I am afraid Mrs Tremayne's cooking has blunted my eagerness for duty.'
They turned towards the sea, and heads bowed made their way on to the jetty.
Midshipman Bolitho and the `Avenger'
3. Like a Bird
After a lively crossing to the anchored cutter Bolitho found the Avenger surprisingly steady for her size. Holding his hat clapped to his head in the icy wind, he paused by the small companionway while he studied the vessel's solitary mast and the broad deck which shone in the grey light like metal. The bulwarks were pierced on either beam to take ten sixpounders, while both forward and right aft by the taffrail he noticed additional mountings for swivel guns. Small she might be, but no slouch in a fight, he decided.
A figure loomed through a busy throng of working seamen and confronted the two midshipmen. He was a giant in height and girth, with a face so weatherbeaten he looked more like a Spaniard than any Briton.
He said loudly, ' 'Eard about you.' He thrust out a big, scarred hand. `Andrew Gloag, actin' master o' this vessel.'
Bolitho introduced Dancer and watched them together. The slim, fair midshipman, the great, unshakable figure in the patched blue coat. Gloag may have begun life in Scotland with a name like his, but his dialect was as Devonian as you could imagine.
`Better lay aft, young gennlemen.' Gloag squinted towards the shore. `We'll be weighin' presently, if the cap'n is anything to judge by.' He grinned, revealing several gaps in his teeth. `I 'opes you're not too much like 'im. I can't stand a brace o' you!' He laughed and pushed them towards the companion. `Get below an' see to yer gear.' He swung away, cupping his hands to bellow, `Look alive, you idle bugger! Catch a turn with that line or I'll skin you for supper!'
Bolitho and Dancer clambered breathlessly down a short ladder and groped their way to a small stern cabin, banging their heads more than once on the low deckhead beams. The Avenger seemed to enfold them with her own sounds and smells. Some familiar and some less so. She felt like a workboat more than a man-of-war. In a class all of her own. Like Andrew Gloag, whose loud voice carried easily through wind and stout timbers alike. A master's mate and acting master. He might never command the quarterdeck of a ship like Gorgon, but here he was a king.
It was hard to picture him working with Hugh. He thought suddenly of his brother, wondering, as he often did, why he felt that he never really knew him.
Hugh was changed in some ways. Harder, more confident, if that were possible. More to the point, he was unhappy.
Dancer pushed his chest into a vacant corner and sat on it, his head almost reaching one of the deck beams.
`What do you make of it all, Dick?'
Bolitho listened to the creak and groan of timbers, the rattle and slap of wet rigging somewhere overhead. It would get more lively once they cleared the Roads.
`Wrecking, smuggling, I believe the two always go hand in hand, Martyn. But the port admiral at Plymouth must have heard more than we, if he's so willing to send the Avenger.'
`I heard your brother say that he had lost his senior by putting him in a prize, Dick. I wonder what happened to the cutter's last commander?' He smiled. `Your brother seems to have a way of getting rid of people.' The smile vanished. `I am sorry. That was a stupid thing to say!'
Bolitho touched-his sleeve. `No. You're right. He does have that way with him.'