Avery said, "We know Baratte's one weakness, sir."
Bolitho looked at him, remembering. On the day that Thruster had been totally destroyed, the enemy had also fired on the privateer Tridente until she had shared Thruster's fate. It could only mean that Baratte did not yet have full facilities for docking or careening any of his vessels. To do so in Mauritius would be inviting an attack, even a cutting-out expedition. He would not risk that. Secrecy and timing were everything. For both sides. They were grasping at straws, and all the while with each turn of the glass the two armies would be completing their preparations for attack.
Avery asked warily, "How much are the Americans involved, sir?"
"I believe, very much." He glanced round as Allday, carrying his usual cloth, moved silently across the cabin to begin his daily ritual of polishing the old sword.
As he reached up for it Bolitho saw him stiffen, his arms in mid-air while the old pain lanced through him. It was never far away. He stooped slightly now, which he had never done before that terrible day when he had received a Spanish sword blade in his chest. It would have killed anyone but Allday. Bolitho saw him move his arms more slowly until the sword was safely in his grasp; he would know that he had seen it, just as he always knew when Bolitho was half-blinded by some harsh light. They both knew, and each pretended not to show it.
How long was it now? It had happened during the false Peace of Amiens: difficult to believe it had been all of eight years ago. The two deadly enemies resting briefly to lick their wounds and prepare for their next conflict. It was a wonder they had both survived. Too many familiar faces had not. How much would Unity be prepared to interfere to 'defend' American shipping and the rights of her sailors on the high seas? As Adam had commented, she would make a formidable adversary if used against his small mixed squadron.
Bolitho snatched a magnifying glass, and in his mind saw Tyacke's strong profile as he had described these waters he had come to know so well. "My compliments to the captain. Ask him to step aft." His voice was quite even, casual. Only the fact that Allday's polishing cloth had suddenly stilled showed that he recognised what was happening.
On the tilting quarterdeck, Captain Trevenen paused in his heavy pacing and regarded the flag lieutenant suspiciously.
Avery was careful not to rouse his temper. "Sir Richard wishes to discuss a matter with you, sir."
"Another whim to act upon, is it? My ship is getting short of water, of everything. All we do is waste time! "
Avery knew that the men on watch could hear every word, just as he understood what would happen if he drew Trevenen's attention to the fact.
Trevenen strode past the first lieutenant and barked, "Keep an eye on these idlers, Mr. Urquhart! There'll be extra work for every laggard if I catch them! "
As they passed Avery saw the other lieutenant's mouth form a silent curse. Their eyes met and Avery smiled. Urquhart was human after all.
In the cabin again Trevenen's head seemed to brush the deck head as he strode to the table.
He sounded incredulous, as if it had been an insult even to ask him. "What? This place?"
Bolitho watched him, his face like a mask. What was the matter with Trevenen, the real reason for his foul temper?
"This place, Captain. It is called San Antonio."
Trevenen seemed vaguely relieved. "It's nothing, sir. A wretched pile of rock in the middle of the ocean! " He sounded contemptuous, or as close to it as he dared.
"You met Commander James Tyacke, I believe?"
"I've seen him."
Bolitho nodded slowly. "You are quite correct. One does not necessarily mean the other. And to know that fine officer is something even rarer and more valued because of it."
Bolitho looked at the chart again if only to hide his anger.
"James Tyacke is a very experienced navigator and knows these waters well. He once mentioned San Antonio to me. A bleak place, uninhabited except for a small monastery and occasionally a fishing community, when the season is right. A rare order of monks, I understand, with a code of poverty and devotion. What better place to observe our shipping movements? Hardly nothing, I'd have thought! "
He looked at Allday's homely face, the sudden pain in his eyes as he remembered that day at San Felipe. Another island, another ocean; and they had been ordered to hand back the place to the French because of the Peace of Amiens.
He saw ASlday nod very slowly. There had been a mission there too, and Allday had all but paid with his life.
He swung aft towards Yovell and said, "Prepare to copy out some orders." He put his hand to his eye as the endless panorama of glittering mirrors mocked him.
"I want you to signal Lame to close on us. Light a flare if need be, but I think James Tyacke will understand."
"That is more than I do, sir." Trevenen stared at him. "If you value my word, I must tell you I am against wasting more time."
"It is my responsibility, Captain. I should not need to remind you."
He heard Trevenen's heavy feet crossing the quarterdeck, and the sudden activity as Larne's number was bent on to the halliards.
In his mind's eye Bolitho saw his little command: Larne leading the invisible line with Jenour's Orcadia well up to windward, her topsails visible to the masthead lookout.
Far, far astern was the other frigate Laertes, the prize that had once been Baratte's own flagship.
He thought of Adam when they had last met at Cape Town, the rebellion in his eyes when he had been ordered to remain with Keen's convoy and escort. He was the vital link between them and their flag officer in Valkyrie.
Adam had argued that his place was in the van, not with the slow-moving transports. Not with Valentine Keen, he had really meant.
Bolitho had been as honest as was possible.
He had said, "You are arguably one of the best young frigate captains in the fleet. You have more than proved it on this station. The recapture of your prizes and Thruster's loss must not deflect your aim. Your true worth will be at my right hand when I call for it." He had watched Adam's resistance soften as he had added, "If I keep you with me all the while, which I am sorely tempted to do, it will reek of favouritism to the others, will it not?"
But it had proved that Catherine's worst fear about Adam and Zenoria must be justified.
He looked at Yovell's fat hand holding his pen, Avery making a few notes from the chart.
Whatever it was, it would have to wait. He saw Allday give his lazy grin as he said, "Thought I'd forgotten, did you, Sir Richard? When we was together in Old Katie?" Even the affectionate nickname for Bolitho's little two-decker Achates brought it all back. "Strange to see how things slide along. Commodore was the captain, an' young Cap'n Adam was your flag lieutenant." He smiled almost shyly. "An' then there was me."
Bolitho touched his thick arm as he walked back to the table. "I thought I'd lost you that day, old friend." He spoke with such emotion that Avery and Yovell stopped to listen. Bolitho did not notice.
A midshipman tapped at the door and he saw the marine sentry's scarlet arm out-thrust, as if the boy was not important enough to be admitted.
"Beg pardon, Sir Richard. The captain's respects, and Lame has acknowledged."
Bolitho smiled at him. "Quite a mouthful, Mr. Rees. Thank you."
Allday murmured, That'll go through the young gentlemen's berth, an' that's no error."
Yovell said, "I'm ready, Sir Richard."
Bolitho touched Avery's shoulder. "I am going to put a landing party ashore. I want you to go with it."
Avery replied calmly, "For the experience, sir?"
Bolitho smiled. "Don't take offence at everything I say! " He shook his head. "Mr. Urquhart is a good officer." He almost added, if he is allowed to be. "But beneath his lieutenant's coat there is still only a boy." He glanced at Allday, but not before he had seen the surprise on Avery's face. "I would take it a favour if you would accompany my flag lieutenant, Allday."