Adam's eyes flashed. "Nor you, I think, sir! '
The boatswain gave a shrug. "I bin an American citizen for three years! " He tapped his cutlass, which was thrust through his belt. "A souvenir from my days under another flag, sirV He spat out each word, his eyes never leaving Adam's face.
"Well, then." Adam's fingers touched the hilt of his sword and he felt the marines stir at his back. "My midshipman reminded me of something. It was the schooner Maid of Rye. She had just been taken into naval service and sailed for the Cape ahead of me. She was never heard of again, and was presumed lost in a storm." How could he stay so calm when every nerve was screaming at him to cut this man down?
The master interrupted hotly, "So we're wreckers now, are we?" But he sounded less confident.
Adam ignored him. "I heard my men talking about the schooner, and my armourer remarked that she was to be the first of His Majesty's ships to be supplied with the new cutlass." His hand shot out and plucked the naked blade from his belt.
"Not three years ago, it would seem! " He snapped, "Take him, Sergeant! " The astonished seaman fell back, confused by the swift change of fortune. Adam added, "I would not resist. My sergeant of marines is known for his hasty temper! "
The boatswain yelled, "Do something! What the hell's the matter with you?"
Adam said, This man will be removed to my ship, and when we reach Cape Town I am sure he will be punished. He could only have got the cutlass from the Maid of Rye. At best mutiny, at worst piracy take your choice. If, as you claim, you have served in the King's Navy, you will know the punishment."
He turned to Deacon. "Strip him! "
Two marines tore off the man's coat and shirt. His back was a mass of deep, ugly scars, like one of Trevenen's victims, Adam thought bitterly.
The master said, "This is a neutral vessel, Lieutenant! "
The boatswain was on his knees as Starr drove the cutlass into the deck so that it stood quivering like something alive.
"You bastard! What did you do to some poor Jack, I wonder?"
The boatswain was pleading, "It weren't my fault, sir! " Even his colonial accent seemed to have gone. "You gotta believe me! "
Adam looked at him. It was little enough, and but for Dunwoody he would have missed it completely.
He was surprised how unruffled he sounded. "Captain Tobias, your vessel is detained for further investigation. If you are carrying deserters amongst your company they will be returned to the fleet and pressed into service. For harbouring that grovelling object you could also be charged with concealment of a felony on the high seas."
He was to remember the subdued master's words for a long time to come. He looked around the brig's deck and said quietly, "This ship is all I have."
What Adam would have thought if they had taken Anemone from him after a court-martial for his actions. The thought drove away all sympathy, and he said, "Signal the ship, Mr. Dunwoody. I want a prize crew. Mr. Lewis can carry word to the vice-admiral." He looked at the master. "After that? We shall see." He watched another boat pulling from Anemone's shadow. It gave him time to think, phase by phase as his uncle had taught him to do.
Sergeant Deacon jabbed the crouching boatswain with his boot. "What about this thing, sir?"
"Put him in irons and send him over in the cutter."
The American master said, "You take a lot of authority on yourself for a mere lieutenant! "
"I lied. I command Anemone. Captain Adam Bolitho, at your service! "
He saw the desperation in the man's eyes and said coldly, "Tell me your true destination, Captain Tobias. If you were an enemy I would respect you. But any one who tries to harm my country under the guise of neutrality can expect no mercy from me."
He heard shouts from the other longboat and watched the struggle on the other man's face.
The boatswain shouted at him, "Tell him, you cowardly bastard! I'll not dance a hangman's jig for you! " He struggled round as the marines pinioned his legs with irons. "An island called Lorraine! That's where! "
Adam looked at the master and saw him sag. "You see, Captain Tobias, you lost your chance. A pity." As more men swarmed aboard he snapped, "Take him too! "
Adam saw Lewis, his hat awry, pushing through the throng of people.
He said, "Disarm these men, and have the marines cover them at all times."
He looked at the departing boat and turned away. He found he could not bear to watch Tobias staring astern at his lost command.
He continued, "Sail to Cape Town and find my uncle. I will give you some written orders. Can you manage that?"
He saw Starr nudge the sergeant. They probably knew Lewis was to be prize-master simply because he was the least competent of the frigate's three lieutenants.
"Aye, aye, sir! "
"Take Deacon's advice. He was once in a slave uprising. He knows how to deal with things like this."
He put his hand on the midshipman's shoulder. It felt as hot as a raging fever.
" Lorraine Island, Mr. Dunwoody. A barren place, and not too far from Bourbon or Mauritius. I should have guessed. But for you…" He shook him gently. "Well, we'll not think of that. We shall rejoin the ship." He saw the brig's crew being disarmed and sorted into watches. There was no resistance now.
Once back aboard the Anemone Adam wasted no time in explaining to Martin and the second lieutenant, Dacre, and of course the sailing master, Old Partridge.
"The brig carries stores enough for a much larger vessel, maybe other evidence if we had had the time to carry out a thorough search. My clerk can write orders for Mr. Lewis. Then it's up to us."
Martin exclaimed, "It might take weeks for him to find our ships, sir! "
Adam looked at their intent faces and smiled gently.
"Really, Aubrey, I do not think I said anything about waiting."
He saw Starr walking aft, the cutlass grasped in his hand.
He said quietly, "But for that simple blade and Dunwoody's quick observation…" He grinned suddenly. "But we have troubles enough, eh? So let's be about it! "
Partridge hid a smirk. It was like hearing his uncle amongst them.
12. Trust
Old Partridge leaned against the white-painted timbers and watched his captain and lieutenants studying the charts on his table. It was pitch black outside, the sky filled from horizon to horizon with a million stars. Some were huge, as if they were just above the spiralling mastheads, the others so faint and extended they could have been encircling another earth as yet unknown.
The ship was sailing under close-reefed topsails, jib and driver, the motion lively but regular as they continued towards the north-east. Tomorrow would make it two days since the prize Eaglet had left them. Already it seemed that it could not really have happened, but for the brig's master and boatswain, and the cutlass Dunwoody had seen, and about which he had not been afraid to speak out when they had been ready to fall back to the ship.
Adam bent right over the chart and peered at the destination the prisoner had revealed. Partridge had already told him that the island called Lorraine was hardly known, and the charts were unreliable. There was a big lagoon, but no fresh water, nor even any trees for fuel or repairs. It sounded like one of the islands Catherine had described after the escape from the shipwreck.
Partridge had contended that it was unsafe for the unwary. Adam smiled. Everything was, in the great Indian Ocean. Like almost all the other islands in this area it must have changed hands many times as a pawn in strategy, and out of necessity,
as a port for trade and a place for ships to shelter when the great storms came; like Mauritius itself, which lay some hundred and fifty miles to the west, ruled by the Arabs and the Portuguese and then the first true settlers, the Dutch, who had claimed it and named it after Prince Maurice of Nassau. After the Dutch had quit the islands the English trading companies had come, but unable to make the place prosper they had withdrawn. The French had occupied Mauritius and all the island group ever since. But the fact uppermost in Adam's mind was this one flaw in the pattern. Lorraine.