Adam sat down and stared at the greasy pork on his plate as it moved with a life of its own to the ship's steep motion.
Officers were not exempt. He could recall when as a lieutenant he had been stripped naked and almost choked with the mess they had used to 'shave' him. It was a simple thing, but sailors were simple men. It might help to draw his untried company together. He knew Old Partridge was to be Neptune. He pushed the food aside. He could not keep the girl out of his mind.
Under shortened sail, the frigate Anemone changed tack yet again for the final approach. The island of Madeira was shining in afternoon sunlight, its towering, flower-covered hills like a place in a fable.
"Deck there! " Some of the off-duty men looked up, but most of them stared hungrily at the land.
The lookout sounded surprised even from his dizzy perch in the cross trees
"Man-o'-war, sir! Ship-o'-th'-line! " Lieutenant Martin asked, "One of ours, sir?" Adam stared at the distant island. "I can't think what a liner would be doing here. I've no information about it. Where would she be from? The blockading squadron, on passage from the Caribbean? Most unlikely." He picked up a telescope. "I'll go aloft myself, Aubrey. You keep the ship on course unless I say otherwise."
He swung himself out and on to the ratlines, the telescope slung around his shoulder. Then he looked down at his first lieutenant and said quietly, "At least it will show the people they are not commanded by a cripple! "
Heights had never troubled him, not even as a young midshipman, unlike his beloved uncle who had confided his youthful fears of being ordered aloft. Once he glanced down and saw the pale wave creaming back from the bows, the tiny figures on the quarterdeck and along the gangway nearest the island. Volunteers and pressed men, the good and the bad, and some who had barely escaped the hangman's halter. There was only one thing to weld them together: they had to be tested, to make the ship the thing most worthwhile in their lives.
He reached the main cross trees and nodded to the lookout, an older seaman named Betts who had eyes like a skua.
Adam said, "You are troubled, Betts?" He opened the telescope and locked one leg around a stay.
"I dunno, sir. She's the look of a two-decker, but…"
Adam levelled the telescope and waited for Anemone to rise from a lazy trough.
"She's a frigate, Betts. You were right to be confused." He blinked to clear his vision. Perhaps she was the Valkyrie, of which he had heard so much. He dismissed it immediately. His uncle would have left word of any change of plans at Gibraltar. French, then? They would not dare; it would be as dangerous as lying on a lee shore if an English ship like Anemone hove into sight. He extended the glass once again and caught his breath as a small gust of wind lifted the flag at the other ship's poop, the starred and striped colours of the new American navy.
He snapped the glass shut and watched the scene that had been so clear fall into the distance. And yet this old seaman Betts had seen everything with his eyes alone, but for the flag.
He slid down a backstay and joined his officers aft, aware of the curious stares of men who for the most part he barely knew. Yet.
He faced the others. "She's a Yankee. Big too."
Jervis Lewis, the newly-appointed third lieutenant, fresh from another ship's gunroom, asked, "Shall we run out, sir?"
Martin looked at him with scorn. "We're not at war, you idiot! "
The master mumbled unhelpfully, "Far as we knows, sir."
Adam smiled grimly. "There was no activity aboard her. She's a visitor." To the first lieutenant he added, "Remember? Predators."
He walked to the rail and glanced along the main deck at the long eighteen-pounders, so jet-black beneath each gangway. "Have the ship prepared to enter harbour, Mr. Martin." He looked round for the signals midshipman. "And, Mr. Dun-woody, bend on a new ensign to show our good intentions and prepare your crew. Be ready to make and receive any formal signals! "
The officers hurried away, glad to be doing something. Adam considered it. Glad to be told what to do.
Lieutenant Martin watched his captain. She, whoever she was, if the master was right, would be proud to see her man like this.
Adam said, "I shall go below and change. Tell that servant to find me a clean shirt." He took a last glance at the island and thought he could smell flowers amongst the drift of salt. It was probably nothing, but some inner warning had roused him from his brooding thoughts like the touch of steel.
The great anchor splashed into the clear water exactly as two bells chimed out from the forecastle.
With the sun high over the spiralling mastheads Adam was soon aware of his heavy dress coat. His shirt, found by the servant who was certainly no Ozzard, was already moulded to his skin.
There were plenty of ships at anchor and alongside the jetties. Flags of every kind, vessels as mixed as the men who served them.
The American frigate towered above all of them. Across her broad counter and below the curling striped flag was her name in gold letters, Unity. When Anemone took the strain on her cable and swung sedately above her reflection Adam saw the ship's beak head painted blue and decorated with bright gold stars. The figurehead was a citizen with a folded scroll in his outilling hand, probably a hero or a martyr of their revolt against King George.
Lieutenant Martin lowered his speaking trumpet as the last sail was furled and lashed tightly to its yard. They were getting better and faster, he thought, but not much.
He said, "I've not heard of her, sir."
"Nor I. Very new by the cut of her, and look at her teeth. Twenty-four-pounders if I'm any judge! "
Lewis the new third lieutenant said importantly, "I'd not want to tangle with her! " But he fell silent when Adam looked at him.
"Ship secured, sir! "
"Very well. Send away a guard boat in case some reckless Jack tries to desert to our big friend over there, and to the land of the free! "
He spoke bitterly and Martin wondered why.
A boatswain's mate called, They're sending a boat, sir! Officer on board! "
"Man the side! "
A tall lieutenant climbed up through the entry port, and after raising his hat casually to the quarterdeck said, "Do I have the honour of addressing the captain?"
"Captain Adam Bolitho of His Britannic Majesty's Ship Anemone."
"Captain Nathan Beer of the Unity sends his compliments, and has ordered me to extend an invitation to you to visit him at dusk, sir. A boat will be sent for your convenience." His eyes moved briefly across the deck. "I see that you do not carry too many yourself, sir."
"My compliments to your captain…" He hesitated. He should perhaps have said respects, but that would imply that he thought himself subordinate to the American. "I will be honoured." He smiled. "But I will attend in my own boat."
More salutes, and the American was gone. Adam said, "I will go ashore to make peace with the authorities. Lower another boat for the surgeon, and the purser's convenience. Medicine for the one maybe, and fresh fruit for the sick-bay."
But his mind was on his visitor. So it was to be captain to captain and nothing less formal. Nathan Beer his name if not his ship seemed familiar. He saw his gig being warped around to the side. Smart enough, but the American lieutenant might have noticed their strength or lack of it. He turned to his first lieutenant. "Take charge in my absence. Any doubts, and send someone for me." He let his words sink in. "But I have every faith in you." He walked to the entry port, where a side party had re-formed. "If a deserter tries to swim from the ship, signal the guard boat But no shooting if he does not give up. I'd rather have him drowned than shot." He nodded his head toward the big frigate. They will be watching. Enemy or not, they will never be our friends, so do not forget it! "
Captain Nathan Beer was a big man in every way, and met Adam at the entry port of his frigate with a jovial informality to match. With his broad, weathered face and unruly hair barely touched by grey, and twinkling blue eyes, in England he would have passed easily for a gentleman farmer. Amongst frigate captains Adam was more used to younger men, although some had been on the ladder for far longer.