Herrick asked quietly, "What do you intend, sir?"
"Had I known the content of the letter I would have held on to the schooner and used her against her old masters." The dividers beat a slow rhythm on the chart. "But no matter. The Dons will not know she has been taken yet. There is still time."
Probyn said bluntly, "Unless some of the landing party were captured, sir. Made to tell what they know of our intentions. "
Herrick snapped, "That's a bloody stupid thing to say!" "No, Thomas." Bolitho looked at him impassively. "It is a possibility. We must face up to it."
Try as he might Herrick could not drag his gaze from the broken sword which now lay on Bolitho's desk.
He said, "I find it hard, sir:"
"I know." He held his gaze for a few seconds. "He is close to you also."
He turned away, forcing himself to retain control of his emotions. Is, is, is. He must not allow himself to think of Adam as gone into the past.
He looked at the other captains. "We must obtain a new element of surprise. Attack and probe, gain all the knowledge we can of the enemy's strength, and hurt him when he least expects it."
Farquhar nodded slowly. "If we attack this shipping, sir, and then put out to sea in another direction, the enemy will not know what we are doing, or what our true mission might be."
Bolitho replied, "Exactly. It is something I learned, and learned well from the French. One determined ship can tie down a squadron. A determined squadron can "hamper a whole fleet. "
They fell silent until Probyn said, "The Dons may send a force down from Cartagena. There is little sea room for what you plan to do."
"I will post Captain Javal to watch our backs." He faced him calmly, watching for an argument. "The Dons may be prepared for a local attack, another cutting-out expedition or the like. A ship of the line is not what anyone will anticipate."
Probyn gasped, "No sane man certainly!"
Bolitho nodded grimly. "Lysander will make the attack." He looked at Farquhar. "You will stay to seaward and act as the situation dictates."
Farquhar's eyebrows rose very slightly. "My decision then, sir?"
Herrick interrupted harshly, "You’ll not rate a broad pendant yet, dammit!"
Farquhar gave a cool smile, "The idea never entered my mind… "
Bolitho tugged at his neckcloth. It seemed to be choking him.
He said, "I will send you written orders directly. So now, gentlemen…"
Herrick ushered them to the door and closed it behind them.
Bolitho sat down in a chair and rested his head in his hands as the calls shrilled from the gangway to mark the captains" departure. Outside the cabin the sea was deep blue, like ruffled silk, as the wind ghosted the ships gently eastward. If only it had been like this when Buzzard's boats had taken the sleeping schooner. It would have halved the time. Saved lives.
Herrick returned and said, "I have ordered the squadron to take station again sir. Your servant is waiting to attend you. " "Thank you, Thomas."
Herrick looked at the snapped sword. "if he is still alive, there may be a chance to arrange an exchange-"
Bolitho stood up violently. "Do you not think I have gone over and over what might or might not be done!" He swung. away, his eyes blurred. 'send Allday to me with-" He broke off, and for a long moment they stared at each other like strangers.
Then Herrick said tonelessly, "I’ll attend to the details, sir. "
Bolitho opened his mouth to prevent his leaving, but no words came. When he looked again Herrick had gone.
Ozzard, the cabin servant, slipped through the door and moved diagonally towards the sleeping compartment, his eyes averted.
Bolitho sat on the bench and watched him. He knew little about Ozzard, other than he was capable and had served the previous commodore well. It was said he had been a lawyer's clerk and had volunteered for the Navy because of some. crime he had committed against his employer. He was a very quiet man, and was moving now like a soft-footed poacher as he laid out a clean shirt for his commodore.
Bolitho saw the way his hands moved, the shirt shaking as he unfastened the collar.
He is terrified of me. Fearful that I will punish him merely to ease my own pain.
The realisation helped to steady him, and he was suddenly ashamed.
He said quietly, "Thank you, Ozzard, I can manage now." The man regarded him nervously, "If you"re sure, sir?" He backed away, as if still expecting Bolitho to turn on him. By the door he hesitated and then said, "I’ve had some education, sir. If you like I could come back and read to you. It might help to pass the time. And you wouldn"t have to say anything."
Bolitho turned away from him, hiding his face. "No, not just now, Ozzard. But I appreciate the thought. "He saw the man's reflection in the sloping windows as he moved silently from the cabin. "More than I can tell you."
4. The Captives
RICHARD BOLITHO stood by the quarterdeck rail and watched the sunset. It painted the sky in great rust-coloured patterns. and gave a sharp edge to the western horizon. Lysander moved comfortably under forecourse and topsails, her broad hull tilting hardly at all to the west wind which had followed her for most of the day.
He stared along the length of the ship, through stays and shrouds and beyond a greasy plume of smoke from the galley funnel. He could just make out the tiny outline of Harebell's sails as she moved ahead of her flagship, her yards holding the dying sun like uplifted crosses.
The rest of his ships had disappeared to the south that afternoon, and under Farquhar's command would even now be making more sail to beat their way around and ahead of Lysander's point of attack. He pictured the chart in his mind, collecting the scraps of information which had formed into a loose strategy. He could almost see the line of the shore, the hills behind the bay, the depths of the sea and places where there was no depth at all. Against that he had another list of items he did not know. What the enemy were doing there, or if indeed they were there for any purpose which warranted risking his ships. The main topsail billowed and flapped noisily as the wind dropped and then gathered strength again. The master's mate of the watch relaxed and made some joke with the helmsmen, and, at the lee side of the deck Lieutenant Fitz-Clarence readjusted his vigilant pose.
Bolitho tried not to let his mind drift from what he had to do. But with the ship so quiet, and with no questions to answer or problems to solve, he was unable to stay aloof from his anxiety.
Two days since he had returned on board, two further days since Javal's men had taken the schooner. She would be at Gibraltar by now, opposing winds or not, unless she had run foul of an enemy. She would be sold in a prize court, maybe taken into the King's service. Her few remaining crew members would either be sent to a prison hulk or offered an alternative fate, that of signing on aboard a British man o"war. After five years of conflict you" heard a dozen languages and dialects in any king's ship.
And Adam? He walked slowly to the nettings and stared "hard at the sea. The land was beyond even a lookout's vision, and the sky was already so dark that it was difficult to see the horizon's division, which moments ago had glowed like hot copper.
Another lieutenant had appeared on deck and was murmuring with Fitz-Clarence, while from forward and deeper in the fat hull he heard the shrill of a call, the pad of bare feet as the next watch prepared to take over the ship until midnight.