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Then, when Bolitho was starting to worry for Harebell" s safety, the masthead sighted the sloop beating up from the south-east. It took another full day for Inch to draw near, and when he eventually arrived on board, his news was like a slap in the face.

He had sighted the Pharos and had sailed as near as he could to Alexandria. As before, it was empty but for the elderly Turkish men-of-war. Perplexed as to what to do, Inch had gone about, and almost by accident had fallen on a small Genoese trading vessel. Her master had confirmed what Bolitho had believed from the start. After leaving Naples, Nelson had sailed direct to Alexandria, but finding it empty, had led his fleet back to the west again. How far, and to what purpose, Bolitho could only guess, but he could imagine the little admiral searching out information from Syracuse or Naples, and trying to determine what action to take.

The Genoese trader also told Inch's boarding party that he had heard of heavy French ships of war off the Cretan coast.

That had been,many days ago. Despite all the questions, comparing of charts, even threats, the trader could not be more definite.

It was almost dark by the time Inch had, completed his report, and Herrick and Grubb had noted his sparse facts on the chart for future reference.

Tomorrow, Bolitho would send Harebell to search for the fleet again. In his shoes, Bolitho would have been glad to go. To get away from the ponderous manoeuverings of the two-deckers. But Inch protested, "One more day cannot hurt, sir. The French are to the north of us somewhere. It would be better to remain with you and gather something definite for Nelson. Rather than finding the fleet once more with little but rumour to offer."

Bolitho agreed with him in part. But for the weather, and long delays left in the wake of battle, they might have had better luck.

When he had confided his anxiety with Herrick, the latter had protested as strongly as Inch.

"There is nothing more you could do, sir. Even Rear Admiral Nelson was dismasted in a storm and allowed the Frogs to escape from Toulon. It's like seeking a hare in a burrow. With only one ferret, the odds of success are hard against you. "

Bolitho looked at them and smiled. "If I ordered you to sail up the cliffs of Dover, I believe you would obey. "

Inch grinned. "I’d need it in writing, sir."

They went on deck together, and while Inch waited for his boat to pull alongside, Bolitho watched the molten ball of sunset spreading like stained glass in a church.

"Tomorrow then."

He walked aft and peered at the compass, and nodded to Plowman, the master's mate of the watch.

"How is the wind?"

'steady "nough, sir." He squinted at the broad pendant, curling lazily in the sunset. "Tomorrow’ll be another day like this one."

Bolitho waited as Herrick carne from the entry port and said, 'signal the ships to remain in close contact tonight, Thomas." He shivered, and clasped his "arms around his stomach.

Herrick peered at him, startled. "Are you ill, sir? Is that damned fever returning?"

Bolitho looked at him and smiled. "Rest easy. It's just a feeling." He turned towards the poop. "I have a letter to write. It can go with Inch and his despatches. "

Later, in the great, creaking cabin, with the shadows swaying and looming around his table, Bolitho rested his head on his hand and stared at the letter he was writing to his sister in Falmouth.

He could picture Nancy without difficulty. Dark-eyed, and unusually cheerful, she remained closer than his other sister, Felicity, whom he had not seen for six or seven years. She was in India, with her soldier husband, while Nancy remained in Falmouth, the wife of Lewis Roxby, landowner, magistrate, and as far as Bolitho was concerned, a pompous bore.

Once they had all lived together below PendennisCastle walls. With Hugh, and then, years later, Nancy's two children, Helen and James. Now, Hugh was dead, and Felicity across the world, knowing nothing of the French army moving in a blue flood towards Egypt, and towards her.

Nancy's children were grown up, and nearly as old as Adam. It was another world. In Falmouth the air would be heavy with blossom and the sounds of cattle, horses and sheep. The taverns would be full of laughter; of relief that the farms and fishing grounds had once more been good to them.

He wrote-" and young Adam is keeping well and does his duty with a dash which would have pleased Father.

It is not yet certain, dear Nancy, but I think Thomas may have met his lady at long last. Indeed I hope so, for there could be no better husband."

He looked up as voices and feet crossed above the sky light. But they moved away, and he tried to think of something more to tell his sister. He could not write of the other side of things. The faces of Lysander's company whenever you caught them in an unguarded moment. Thinking of their own families, as with each hour they fell further and further astern. Nor could he explain what they were doing, or the great odds against any sort of success.

Anyway, she would guess some of it. She was a captain's daughter, an admiral's grand-daughter. She would know.

He continued-" you will remember Francis Inch? He has trebled in size and confidence since meeting with Sir Horatio Nelson. He was much impressed, although I suspect he thought" "Our Net" would be a giant, instead of a slight man with one arm and a temper to match that of any collier's master!

"I send my love to you and the children, as does Adam, who still thinks of you as a kind of angel. He does hot know you as well as I." He smiled, seeing her pleasure as she read that part and remembered. When he had been at sea, and Adam had walked unknown and unhelped out of nowhere, it had been to Nancy that he had gone. Until that moment in time, nobody in the family, not even Hugh, had realised Adam had existed. Born illegitimate, he had lived to his fourteenth year with his mother at Penzance, and when she had died he had set out on foot for the family to which he really belonged,

Yes, she would recall those days as she read his letter. He finished-" Think of us sometimes. Your loving brother, Dick."

Allday entered the cabin and looked at him curiously. "Moffitt's finished copying your orders for Harebell, sir." He watched as Bolitho sealed the letter and addressed it. "Falmouth, sir?"

"Yes." He leaned back in the chair and looked at the spiralling lantern overhead. "I’ve told my sister that you are as difficult as ever."

Allday turned as Ozzard came through the door. "Well?" Ozzard flinched. "Will the commodore be requiring anything more to eat or drink, please?"

Bolitho stood up and walked uncertainly to the bulkhead and touched the sword.

"Layout my best uniform coat and hat tomorrow, Ozzard. " Allday turned towards him very slowly. "Then you think… "

"Yes." Bolitho looked past him. "I feel it. It will be tomorrow or not at all."

"I’ll need a tot to make me sleep on that news, sir." But he grinned. 'several, most like."

Bolitho roamed about the cabin for a full hour after mid- night, thinking of faces, and things he had shared with them.

Then he turned into his cot, leaving orders with the watch on deck that he was to be called at dawn.

Surprisingly, he felt calmer than he had since the return of his fever, and within minutes of closing his eyes he was fast asleep.