He swung away, controlling his voice with obvious effort. 'Now tell someone to cast down a line and haul that corpse on deck. Then have 'em clean up the cabin, it stinks like a gallow's-tip down here! ' He touched the leg of his chair. There was dried blood on it, black in the filtered sunlight. Almost to himself he muttered, 'Probably yesterday.
Otherwise the rats would have found their way in here.' He jammed on his salt-stained hat and ducked out of the cabin. Later, while Bolitho and Dancer waited by the bulwark and watched the lieutenant being pulled across to Gorgon's side to make his report, Bolitho told his friend something of what had happened between them. Dancer eyed him sadly. Til wager he intends to put your ideas to the captain, Dick. It would be just like him.' Bolitho touched his arm, recalling Tregorren's last words before he had dropped into the boat. 'Keep steerage way until told what to do, and send a good lookout aloft.' He had pointed at the corpse by the wheel. 'And throw that overboard. It's how some of you'll end up, I shouldn't wonder.' Bolitho looked now at the empty space where the unknown man had lain. Callous and senseless. He said, Tve a few more ideas yet.' He smiled, trying to forget his anger. 'At least I know why he dislikes me.' Dancer followed his mood. 'Remember that poor cripple in the Blue Posts, Dick?' He gestured around the deck and at the handful of seamen. 'He said we would both be captains, and, by God, we have a ship of our own already! '
4. “Clear for Action!”
THE Gorgon's wardroom, situated directly below the captain's great cabin, and which was approximately the same size, was packed with figures from bulkhead to stern windows. It was lined with small, whitepainted cabins and used as a home and dining-space by the lieutenants, the master, the marine officers and Laidlaw, the surgeon. But in the pink glow of sunset through the stern windows and beneath several spiralling lanterns, the wardroom was filled with almost everyone above the rank of petty officer, except those needed to work the ship. Bolitho and Dancer found themselves a space on the larboard side by an open window and looked round hopefully for some refreshments. But if the wardroom was required to donate its space for a conference it was not apparently inclined to make its guests welcome. For most of the day, while Gorgon and her small consort had ghosted along under reduced canvas, ' Bolitho and Dancer had fretted and speculated about what was going to happen, and what their part would be. A boat had eventually been sent for them to rejoin Gorgon, the boatswain's mate, Thome, saying with as much sarcasm as he dared, 'I think I can manage to take charge till you young gennlemen get back, sir.' He had served ten years with the fleet. Now, as they waited with the other midshipmen, ignored by the lieutenants and marine officers, Bolitho and his friend watched the screen door by the •trunk of the mizzen mast which pinioned the ship from poop to keel. It was like being in a theatre waiting for the principal actor to appear, or for an Assize judge to take his place and begin a trial. Bolitho glanced around the wardroom, not for the first time. Different again from the spacious cabin overhead, it was nevertheless a palace after the midshipmen's berth and gunroom. Even the little cabin doors which left the occupants barely more room than a cupboard suggested privacy and something personal. A table and some good chairs were scattered amongst the standing figures and not jammed together against the curved and often dripping side of the orlop. He turned and leaned over the sill, seeing the froth from the rudder very pink in the sunset, the million dancing mirrors which streamed down from the horizon. It was hard to think of murder and danger, a man being hacked to death in the trim barquentine which sailed under Gorgon's lee. Another two years and he would share a wardroom like this, Bolitho thought. One more step up the ladder. He heard feet shuffling around him and Dancer's quick, 'Here they come! ' Verling entered first, holding the screen door aside so that Captain Beves Conway could move aft without taking his hands from behind his back. When he reached the table Conway said, 'They may sit down if they wish.' Bolitho watched him, fascinated. Hemmed in by his lieutenants, the warrant officers and midshipmen, he still managed to appear quite removed from all of them. He was wearing a well-pressed blue coat, its white lapels and gilt buttons as fresh as from any London tailor. Breeches and stockings equally clean and neat, and his hair was tied to the nape of his neck with a fresh twist of ribbon. Most of the midshipmen saved their ribbons for special occasions. Bolitho, for instance, had his long black hair tied above his collar with a piece of codline. Verling said briefly, 'Pay attention. The captain wishes to address you.' The wardroom seemed to be holding its breath, so that the sigh of sea and wind, the irregular creak of the rudder-head beneath the stern windows intruded forcefully, and Bolitho marvelled at the fact that they had sailed all four thousand miles without any real knowledge of why they were doing it. The captain said quietly, 'I have brought you all here together to save time. You will return to your messes or your divisions when I have finished and tell the people what we are about, in your own way. Far better than a fine speech from the quarterdeck, I think.' He cleared his throat and looked at their ' expectant faces. 'My orders were to bring this ship to the west coast of Africa and carry out a patrol, and if necessary land seamen and marines to further those orders. In the last few years there has been a growing menace of piracy along these shores, and many fine ships have been fired on or have disappeared.'