Something about him was different.
Bolitho asked, "What is troubling you?"
Tyacke said steadily, "I received orders in the despatch bag, sir. Both Mr Simcox and Segrave are leaving my command after this is over and done with." He tried to smile, but it made him look desperate. "Ben Simcox is a good friend, and I've come to feel differently about the midshipman since…" He did not go on.
"I understand." Bolitho saw the surprise on Tyacke's maimed face.
"Because I am what I am, is that it?" He shook his head and Tyacke caught a quick glimpse of the terrible scar which was only partly hidden by the lock of hair. "I had another flag lieutenant once. He used to call me and my captains, We Happy Few. By God, Mr Tyacke, there are precious few of us now! Oh yes, I know what it is to find a friend, then lose him in the twinkling of an eye. Sometimes I think it is best to know nobody, and to care for nothing."
Somebody called from the deck, "Th' slaver's under way, sir! "
"I-I am sorry, sir." Tyacke had to leave, but wanted to remain.
"There's no need." Bolitho met his gaze and smiled. "And know this. I do care. And when I call for volunteers tomorrow-"
Tyacke turned to the ladder. "You'll not lack them, Sir Richard. Not in this ship." Then he was gone, and moments later came the cry, "Anchor's aweigh! "
Bolitho sat for several minutes, his ears deaf to the din of rudder and canvas as the schooner curtsied round, free of the land once more.
Why had he spoken to Tyacke like that? He smiled at his own answer. Because he needed him and his men more than they would ever know, or understand.
With great care he opened the letter, then stared with surprise as a dried ivy leaf fell to the table.
Her writing seemed to blur as he held the letter closer to the swaying lantern.
My darling Richard This leaf is from your house and my home-
It was enough. The remainder he would read later when he was quite alone.
6. While Others Dare. LIEUTENANTJames Tyacke clung to the weather rail and squinted through the spray as Bolitho appeared by the companion-way.
"Sail in sight, sir! "
Bolitho clutched a backstay and nodded. "I heard the call, Mr Tyacke. You've a good man aloft! "
It had been dark to all intents when he had caught the lookout's cry Even in so small a vessel it had been difficult, and to anyone less experienced the overnight change in wind and weather would have appeared astonishing. The wind had veered several points and now came from the north, or near enough. With her bowsprit pointing due east, Miranda appeared to be lying hard over, the sea occasionally licking above the lee bulwark; when it touched your skin it felt like ice.
Bolitho peered to where the horizon should be, but could see nothing. Only the creaming wavecrests and the blacker depths of fast-moving troughs. It would make the two schooners' approach doubly challenging. A lantern was shuttered across the tumbling water, and Bolitho guessed that the captured slaver was less than half a cable away. It was a mark of Tyacke's and Jay's experience that they had managed to keep in close company all through the night. When dawn finally broke the seamen would be at their worst, he thought. Worn out by trimming sails, reefing and changing tack over and over again.
Tyacke shouted, "Time to close with Albacora, sir." He was watching him in the darkness, his eyes well accustomed to the night while Bolitho was still trying to adjust to it.
It was strange to realise that the lookout could not only see the rising dawn but the sails of another vessel. It had to be Truculent. If it was not, it could only be the enemy.
"Deck there! She's a frigate, sir. Hove-to."
Bolitho heard Simcox release a sigh. So it was Truculent. Captain Poland could justly be proud of another successful rendezvous.
Someone called, "Th' slaver's come about, sir. 'Er boat's in the water."
Tyacke muttered, "Lucky it's no further. It'll be a rough haul for the oarsmen."
Bolitho touched Tyacke's arm and said, "About the volunteers?"
Tyacke faced him. "That deserter was sent over from the flagship with the prize crew. There was a Royal Marine too, for all the use he'll be." He spoke with the unreasonable contempt of sailors for members of the Corps.
"Is that all?"
Tyacke shrugged. "It's better this way, sir. My ship will provide the remainder." His teeth showed faintly through the shadows as the first hint of light fingered the horizon. "I spoke to them myself, sir. Men I know and trust." He added bluntly, "More to the point, who trust me."
"Mr Simcox knows what he must do?"
Tyacke did not answer directly. He was watching the approaching boat as it lifted and plunged like a winged fish while it fought around the stern to find shelter beneath Miranda's lee. He said, "Mr Simcox will remain in Miranda." He paused as if expecting to be challenged.
Bolitho said, "I placed you in charge. It must be your decision."
Simcox suddenly lurched towards them. "I must protest! I know these waters, and in any case-" Tyacke seized his arm and spun him round. "Do as you're bloody told, man! I command here! Now attend to that boat! "
Bolitho could barely see the acting-master in the gloom, but felt his disbelief and hurt as if Tyacke had struck him.
Tyacke said heavily, "Ben is a fine sailor. If he survives this bloody war, begging your pardon, sir-and I said if-he'll have a career. Something waiting for him even if they pitch him on the beach with all the others." He gestured angrily towards the confusion in the waist of the schooner. God damn you, Morgan, catch a turn there, or you'll stove in the bloody boat! "
Bolitho had not heard him berate any of his seamen before. He was trying to get it out of himself, to forget what he had said and done to his only friend.
Figures lurched through the darkness and then Jay, the master's mate, appeared by the tiller.
"All prepared, sir! Ready to change crews! " He glanced quickly from Tyacke to Simcox, who was standing by the foremast, then asked, "Ben not ready yet, sir?"
Tyacke said harshly, "I am going in his place. So stay with him." For a moment his voice softened. "And the ship."
Another figure appeared and Bolitho saw it was the midshipman, Segrave.
Tyacke murmured, "He volunteered, sir, and I might need another officer, if things go badly." He said more loudly, "Are you still eager, Mr Segrave? You can still fall out-no one would blame you after what you did for Mr Jay."
The youth's face seemed to grow out of the shadows as the first pale sunlight reflected from the dripping sails and rigging. He said firmly, "I want to go, sir."
The lookout's cry made them look up again. "She's Truculent right enough, sir! " A further pause, then, "She's shaken out some reefs an' she's comin' about."
Tyacke said, "She'll be sending a boat for you, sir."
"Yes." Bolitho saw Allday with the small bag of clothing which they had brought with them from Themis. So like those other occasions, when suddenly there is no more time left. Lastly came Jenour, yawning hugely He had slept through everything. The other figures had disappeared into the pitching boat alongside; Tyacke was eager to leave. To get it over.
He said in a calm voice, "I'll not let you down, sir." Bolitho took his hand. It was hard like Thomas Herrick's. He replied quietly, "You wouldn't know how, Mr Tyacke."
Tyacke swung one leg over the bulwark, but paused as Simcox pulled himself along the side heedless of the sea sluicing along the scuppers, dragging at his legs.
"You want me, Ben?"
Simcox staggered and almost fell headlong, but Tyacke caught him with his arm. Watching from the mainmast bitts Bolitho saw and understood. It was like a last embrace.
Tyacke said roughly, "You've too much to lose, Ben, and you know it. You'll make a fine Master, with a proper captain to take care of, eh?"
Simcox said something but it was lost in the drumming rigging and the turmoil alongside.
When Bolitho looked again Tyacke had gone and the boat was surging away once more, spray flying from the oar blade like ragged silk.