Captain Poland was waiting with his side-party to greet them as they climbed aboard and the Danish longboat backed away from the chains in a welter of icy spray.
Poland began, "I hope all is well, Sir Richard?" He stared after Inskip as he pushed past the reception and hurried aft to the poop.
Bolitho said, "Prepare to get under way immediately Captain Poland. We are to be escorted by Dryaden as before, but yours is the faster ship. Once clear of the narrows I want you to sail Truculent like you did to Good Hope! " He wished that Poland would stop staring at him. "I shall explain why directly but I believe we may, have to fight before we are much older."
Poland was at last coming out of his daze. "Er, yes, Sir Richard. I shall attend to it-" He peered round for his first lieutenant. "If fight we must then my ship will give good account-" But when he looked again, Bolitho had vanished. He cupped his hands, his voice shattering the stillness of the side-party while they shivered in the intermittent rain.
"Mr Williams! Prepare to get the ship under way! Have the master lay aft! " He swung round, rain water running from his hat. "Mr Munro, be so good as to pipe all hands, unless of course you are too engrossed in staring at the city yonder. I daresay you will see more than that before long! " He watched the lieutenant as he fled from the quarterdeck. Then he snapped, "Once clear of land we shall exercise gun crews, Mr Williams." He derived some pleasure from the lieutenant's surprise. "It seems we are a passenger-vessel no longer! "
Lieutenant Williams watched him stride away his hat and coat shining in the downpour like wet coal. Poland never explained anything until he was himself absolutely certain. Williams gave a wry grin, then picked up his speaking-trumpet as the midshipman of the watch reported that the Danish frigate was already shortening her cable.
Why should he anyway? He was, after all, the captain!
As the calls shrilled and echoed between decks and the seamen came pouring from every hatch and along each gangway, Truculent's first lieutenant felt the excitement run through him like heady wine. Then he took a deep breath and raised his speaking-trumpet.
"Man the capstan! " He squinted through the rain. "Hands aloft, loose tops'ls! "
He saw his friend gazing at him, grinning despite the captain's sarcasm. "Remember, lads, they're all watching us over yonder. Let's show 'em that nobody can weigh faster than Truculent! "
In the stern cabin Bolitho paused over the chart, the rain still dropping from his coat and hair on to his calculations.
The clank of the capstan, the surge of water alongside which drowned the sounds of shantyman or violin, and the feeling of life running through the hull like no other sensation.
He knew Poland would be down shortly to report that the anchor was hove short. That part of it was no longer his concern. Bolitho sighed and leaned over the chart again. Then so be it.
Bolitho felt Jenour's hand on his shoulder and was instantly awake. A second earlier and he had been trudging up the hill towards the house, his eyes searching for her, his legs refusing to carry him any closer. Now as his eyes took in the faint grey light from the stern windows he saw Jenour holding on to the swaying cot, his face wet as if he had been in the rain.
Jenour gasped, "First light, Sir Richard! " He swallowed and clenched his jaws. "I-I've been sick, sir! "
Bolitho listened to the roar of water against the side, the heave and groan of timbers as the frigate fought her way through the gale. He could also hear someone vomiting and guessed it was Inskip. Seasoned traveller in his country's service he might be; frigate sailor he was not.
Bolitho saw Allday's dark shadow edging down the cabin towards him, his body leaning over like a tree in the wind.
Allday showed his teeth in the gloom and held out a mug of steaming coffee. He said above the chorus of sea and wind, "Last coffee for a bit, Sir Richard. Th' galley's flooded! " He looked unsympathetically at the flag lieutenant. "Nice bit o' salt pork is what you needs, sir."
Jenour ran down the sloping deck and disappeared.
Bolitho sipped the coffee and felt it restoring him, driving sleep and dreams into memory.
"What's happening?"
Allday reached up and steadied himself by gripping the edge of a deckhead beam. "We're still under reefed tops'ls an' jib, 'though the Cap'n was fair reluctant to shorten anything 'til the main t'gallant blew to ribbons! I heard the master say that the Danish ship is preparing to go about."
Bolitho slid carefully to the deck as he had done ten thousand times, in so many vessels from topsail-cutter to a lordly first-rate. Allday unshuttered a lantern and held it over the table while he peered at his chart. Poland was doing well in spite of the savage weather which had plagued them since they had left the sheltered narrows. Truculent would now be at the northern limits of the Kattegat and would soon be changing tack to head south-west through the Skagerrak-more sea room, less chance of running afoul of any fishermen who were mad enough to be out in weather like this.
Allday said helpfully, "Wind's shifted since the first watch, Sir Richard. A real nor'-easter, blowin' fit to bust every spar. Straight down from the Arctic if you asks me."
He produced a heavy tarpaulin coat, knowing Bolitho would want to see for himself. As the deck rose and plunged down again, Allday held on to one of the tethered nine-pounders to meet the violent motion. He felt the old wound in his chest come to life, sear his insides until he could scarcely stop himself from calling out.
Bolitho watched him and held out his hand. "Here, hold on! "
Allday felt the pain recede as if it was reluctant to offer him peace. He shook himself like a great dog and forced a grin. "Not too bad, sir. Comes at you when you're least ready, the bugger! "
Bolitho said, "You know what I told you before. I meant it then, I mean it still." He saw Allday stiffen, ready to argue. "You deserve it anyway, after what you've done for your country." He dropped his voice. "For me."
Allday waited for the deck to sway upright again and replied, "An' what'd I do then, Sir Richard? Stand around the inn tellin' lies like all the other old tars? Be a sheep-watcher again? Or marry some rich widow-woman, an' God knows there are enough of them around with this war goin' on an' on! "
Bolitho lurched towards the screen door and saw the marine sentry clinging to a stanchion, his face no better than Jenour's. It was useless to try and convince Allday, he thought.
Water tumbled over the companion-way coaming and down to the deck below, and when Bolitho managed to reach the top of the ladder the wind nearly took his breath away.
Both watches were on deck, the air filled with shredded shouts and the slither of feet in water as it surged over the lee side.
Poland saw him and pulled himself along the quarterdeck rail to join him.
"I am sorry you were disturbed, Sir Richard! "
Bolitho smiled at him, his hair already thick with salt spray. "You cannot be blamed for the weather! " He was not sure if Poland heard him. "What is our position?"
Poland pointed across the lee bow. "The last point of land, Skagen's Horn. We will change tack in about half an hour." His voice was hoarse from shouting into the gale and the cold spray. "I have barely lost an hour, Sir Richard! "
Bolitho nodded. "I know. You are doing well." Always the uncertainty, the search for criticism. It was a pity he did not remember that when he was berating his lieutenants.
Poland added, "Dryaden split a tops'l yard and most of her driver during the night." He sounded pleased. "We'll be leaving her soon."
Bolitho shivered and was glad that he had had the last coffee as Allday had put it.
Poland had done what he had asked of him. Had kept Truculent in the lead all the way. Dryaden was not even in sight now except possibly from the masthead. He stared up through the shining black web of rigging and felt his head swim. Who would be a lookout in this gale?