Lieutenant Mears had no intention of shouting his news from the captured schooner's deck. While Buzzard rolled heavily in short, steep waves he crossed the narrow gap between the two ships in his cutter, its sleek hull lifting and rearing like a dolphin until it was made fast to the frigate's chains.
In the stern cabin the sea's noises were muted, like surf booming in a long cave.
Bolitho kept his hands clasped behind him, his head lowered between the deck beams as Mears, still panting, told his story.
"We pulled under the headland as planned, sir. Then we separated. I took my boat direct for the schooner's seaward side, and Mr. Booth headed his around and under her bowsprit. There is no doubt that the schooner's master was expecting the weather to worsen and was anchoring for the night. Our suspicion he had sighted Buzzard was ill-founded."
Bolitho asked quietly, "And the jolly boat?"
Mears rubbed his eyes. "Your lieutenant was ordered to take it to the western side of the headland and beach it. If the Dons had tried to send for help from the land, Mr. Pascoe's party would have been able to intercept them. "
Javal snapped, "You took your damn time, Toby."
The lieutenant shrugged limply. "The first part went well.
There was only an anchor watch, and they didn"t even raise a shout until our fellows were amongst "em. No boarding nets, no swivel guns, they almost died of fear." He hesitated, sensing the tension around him for the first time. "We waited for the jolly boat to come around the point and join us again. When it failed to appear I sent Mr. Booth in the cutter." He spread his hands helplessly. "With dawn close by, and every minute adding to the chance of discovery, I dared not fire a signal until I had received news of the landing party. "
Javal nodded grimly. "That was well said, Mr. Mears. Some would have left the few to save the many. "
Bolitho asked, "What did your people discover?"
"It had been raining, sir." Mears looked at the stern windows, streaked with salt and droplets of spray. "As it is now. Booth found the beached jolly boat with its hull stove in and two seamen dead nearby. Another was lying in some dunes. They had all been killed by sword thrust, sir." He fumbled inside his stained coat. "Mr. Booth found this in the sand. I could not understand it. It is surely an admiral's sword-"
He broke off as Bolitho snatched the glittering hilt from him and held it to the windows. The blade was snapped like a carrot halfway from the ornate guard. It was like yesterday. Vice Admiral Sir Lucius Broughton on the splintered quarterdeck of his flagship. Handing his beautiful sword to an astonished Adam Pascoe and saying gruffly, "Any damn midshipman who tackles the enemy with a dirk deserves it! Besides, a lieutenant must look the part, eh?"
He heard himself say, "It was an admiral's once. It belongs to Mr. Pascoe." He touched the stain on the hilt. Blood and wet sand. He added quietly, "He would not part willingly with it."
The others stared at him.
Then Mears said, "Mr. Booth searched as long as he could, sir. There were many hoofmarks in the beach, leading from inland. He feared that his own party might be challenged at any moment, and I had given him a direct order to return to me if-"
"He did not find the lieutenant anywhere?" Mears shook his head. "Nor your man either."
"No." Bolitho stared out of the streaked windows. "Allday would not leavehim."
'sir?"
Bolitho turned towards them. "What of the schooner?"
Mears collected his wits. "You were right, sir, She is filled to the deck beams with powder and shot. And-" he looked at Javal's grim face, "-two of the finest cannon I have ever laid eyes on. Siege artillery, if I’m any judge, and only newly tested. "
"I see."
Bolitho tried to concentrate his mind on what their capture could mean. Adam was gone. Allday, too. Probably out there dying. Waiting for a rescue which could never come.
Mears said, "I am afraid the schooner's master was killed when he tried to jump overboard. But I found papers and charts in his cabin. Enough to show that he had orders for Toulon."
Javal exclaimed, "By God, you were right about that, too, sir. The Dons are working like fiends to help their powerful ally at Toulon!" He dragged a bottle from one of his sea chests. "You did well, Toby. Take a drink while we decide what to do." He looked at Bolitho. "The wind is rising, sir. We had best get under way again."
"Yes." Bolitho felt the deck lurching unsteadily as the wind hissed against the hull. "Detail a prize crew to take the schooner direct to Gibraltar. Fetch your clerk and dictate a despatch for the admiral there. He will know what best to do about the cannon."
Mears grinned wearily. 'she is a fair little prize, sir. Worth a penny or two."
Javal glared at him and said quickly, "I am sorry about your lieutenant, sir. Had you known him long?"
"He is my nephew."
The two officers looked at each other, appalled.
Javal said, "By God, if I’d only known, sir, I would have sent one of my other officers."
Bolitho looked at him gravely. "You did what was right.
You were short-handed. But in any case, honour and danger must be shared as equally as possible."
Mears suggested, "If I took one of the boats under sail, sir?"
"No." Bolitho looked past him. "In daylight you would stand less than a dog's chance. "He turned his back. "Carryon with your duties, Captain Javal. There is nothing we can do here."
The screen door slammed shut and Bolitho sat down heavily on the bench seat below the windows. He turned the broken sword over several times in his hands, seeing the boy's pleasure at receiving it, his pitiful pride when they had met for the first time.
He looked up, startled, as if he expected to see Allday nearby, as he always was when he sensed he was needed. Now there was not even him. There was nobody.
Somewhere beyond the bulkhead he heard a sailor singing some strange song which he did not recognise. Probably dreaming of his tiny share of the prize money, or of some girl back in England.
Feet clattered overhead, and he heard someone bawl, "Bring the boats alongside and man the tackles!" The recovered boats were thudding against the hull, and he thought he heard someone give a cheer as the schooner made ready to part company.
Javal opened the door, his face wet with rain. 'schooner's about to leave, sir. Are you sure you do not wish to send a separate despatch to the admiral?"
"No, thank you. You were in charge of the cutting-out. It is right that your name should be on the despatch."
Javal licked his lips. "Well, thank you indeed, sir. I just wish there was something I could do about-" He broke off as voices shouted across the upper deck and the hull dipped more heavily in the wind. "I’d better go, sir. Get her under way before we lose a spar or two."
He hurried out, and moments later Bolitho heard his voice through the partly open skylight.
'set the forecourse, Mr. Mears, though I fear we will have to take in a reef or so before long. We are rejoining the squadron."
"By God, I’d not have his conscience on a matter like this, sir. "
Javal's reply was swift and sad. "Conscience does not come into it, Toby. Responsibility sweeps it out of the window."