Signal Close Action (7 page)

Bolitho smiled and walked to his sleeping compartment and the big chest in which he kept a pair of pistols. As he knelt over the lid he felt the ship tilting more readily to the wind, the urgent clatter of blocks and rigging to betray its growing power. He looked up, seeing himself in the small cabin mirror, the unruly lock of black hair above his right eye. He grimaced sadly, touching the deep scar which was partly hidden beneath the lock. An early reminder of what could happen in a split second. Like the dull ache in his shoulder. The small step between life and oblivion.

Allday clattered into the adjoining cabin, the hilt of his cutlass glinting under his blue jacket.

'Party ready, sir.' He was already reaching up for Bolit
ho's sword. 'All fighting Jacks!
'
He grinned. 'Picked 'em myself.'

Bolitho let him buckle his sword around his waist. He asked mildly, 'Were they not
volunteers?
'

The big coxswain grinned all the broader. 'Of course, sir. After I told 'em my point of view, so to speak.'

Bolitho shook his head and strode out of the cabin without looking back.

A cutter was pitching and creaking at the main chains, and the picked seamen were crowded amongst their weapons and the hands at the oars in an untidy mass.

Bolitho glanced around the quarterdeck and at the men who were already at the braces and along the yards overhead preparing to make more sail once the cutter had returned.

Herrick stood with the side party at the entry port, his features composed again.

Bolitho was about to reassure him, to tell him to take good care of the ship in his absence. But
Lysander
was Herrick's ship, not his.

Instead he said lightly, 'Until we meet again, Captain Herrick.'

Then he swung himself out of the port towards the waiting boat.

By the time he had reached the stern
-
sheets and regained his breath the cutter was clear of the ship's side, the oars losing their confusion and falling into a slow rhythm across the choppy water.

It was then Bolitho realised that Pascoe was also in the boat, his dark eyes alight with excitement as he waved to someone on the two-decker's gangway.

Allday hissed angrily,
‘I
knew you'd want him left on board, sir. No sense in putting all the eggs in one basket, so to speak.' He hid his face from the oarsmen. 'It was Mr. Gilchrist who gave the order.'

Bolitho nodded. If he had harboured any doubts about Herrick's first lieutenant, they were gone now. By ordering Pascoe into the cutting-out party he had achieved two things. He could say that Bolitho was taking his nephew as an act of favouritism. He would share fully in any glory if the attack was successful. And if it was not? He looked at the youth, seeing his excitement as he had once known it at eighteen years. If that happened, then Allday's comment would be only too true.

He stared across Pascoe's shoulder and watched the frigate's masts spiralling and swaying in the wind.

Pascoe said brightl
y, 'By God, I'd like to command a ship like
Buzzard!’
He saw Bolitho's expression and added, 'One day, sir.'

Bolitho said, 'We will deal with this business first, Mr. Pascoe.' He smiled. 'But I understand your feelings.'

Allday fingered his cutlass and looked from one to the other. Now he had two to watch over. He frowned as the boat's coxswain failed in his first attempt to steer under the frigate's lee chains. And if anything happened to either of them he would settle Lieutenant bloody Gilchrist's hash for him no matter what.

The last seaman had barely scrambled aboard when Javal shouted, 'Hands aloft and get the ship under way, Mr. Mears
1
We've a lot of distance to cover before nightfall!'

He looked at Bolitho and doffed his hat. 'You are most welcome, sir. Though I fear you may find my quarters a mite cramped.'

Bolitho returned his smile and replied evenly, 'I have commanded
three
such vessels in my time, Captain Javal, but thank you for the reminder.'

Allday glanced down as Pascoe nudged him in the ribs.

Pascoe murmured quietly, 'I think my uncle made his point very well, don't you?'

Allday grinned, suddenly reassured.

'And that's no error, Mr. Pascoe!'

3

Alone

Under
topsails and jib the thirty-two gun frigate
Buzzard
stood close-hauled on the larboard tack, her yards braced round so tightly that from the deck they appeared almost fore and aft.

Bolitho gripped the hammock nettings and strained his eyes through the gloom. The light had gone suddenly, as was natural in these waters, and he was consciou
s of the muttering between
Buzzard’
s master and her first lieutenant as they peered at the compass or inspected the set of each flapping sail.

Javal seemed confident enough and content to leave the navigation to his subordinates. Like him they were well-used, a trained and self-reliant team. There was nothing false about Javal, and no trimmings in his quarters, which for a successful frigate captain were spartan. The cabin furniture consisted mostly of heavy chests, scattered about and within easy reach when required.

Javal joined him, his eyes screwed up against the spray which spattered above the nettings with each steep roll.

He said, 'The coast is about a mile or
so on the larboard bow, sir. If
am to weather the headland I'll have to stand clear very soon or come about for another approach. I wanted a wind, but this one blows too merrily for my liking.' He pulled a stone bottle from his coat. 'A drink, sir ? A warming swallow of Hollands will do you good.'

There was no offer of cup or goblet, so Bolitho held the fat bottle to his lips, feeling the gin running down his tongue like fire.

Javal remarked offhandedly, 'Took quite a few bottles off a blockade-runner last August in the Channel. Better than._ nothing.' He swung round, his voice harsh. 'Watch your helm, damn your eyes! You'll have us in irons before the nest hour!'

He became calm again. 'I'd suggest we make our play soon now, sir.'

Bolitho smiled. That sudden spark of anxious rage had shown that Javal was more human than he wished him to believe. It was never easy to close a little known shore in the dark. Harder still with a senior officer breathing down your neck.

He replied, 'I agree.'

Javal said, 'I'm putting my first lieutenant in charge. The launch and the cutter should suffice, but in case there is a chance of a hue and cry being carried inshore to some Spanish garrison, I'd suggest a small landing party below the headland.' He hesitated. 'Your lieutenant perhaps ?'

"Very well.' Bolitho looked across the blurred procession of white-capped waves. 'Mr. Pascoe is young, but has seen action enough.'

Javal studied him curiously. 'I will attend to it.'

He hurried away barking out orders to the already assembled seamen. Blocks squeaked noisily and the boats began to move above the tier, the hands guiding them without effort, as if it was all in broad daylight.

Bolitho tried not to listen to the clatter of weapons, the occasional hesitation as a man failed to answer his name on a check list.

Allday loomed out of the darkness and said, 'It'll be a hard pull in this wind, sir.' He seemed to sense something. 'Can I help?'

Javal strode past. 'We will heave-to, if you please!' In a louder tone he called, 'Mr.
Mears! Stand by to lower boats!
'

Bolitho said swiftly, 'Go with Mr. Pascoe. He will take the jolly boat.'

Allday understood but replied awkwardly, 'But my place is with — ' He grinned. 'But you are right, sir.'

Bolitho saw the gleam of white breeches against the opposite bulwark and heard Pascoe say, 'I'm going now, sir.'

Bolitho moved to his side. 'See you take care, Adam.' He tried to make light of it. 'Your aunt would never forgive me if anything happened.'

Pascoe turned his head as some seamen dashed past, their chequered shirts very pale and stark.

'I
must
go, sir.'

Bolitho stood aside. 'Good luck.'

Moments after the frigate had laboured round into the wind, her remaining sails booming in confusion, the three boats were in the water alongside, and then soon pulling away towards the land.

Javal rubbed his hands. 'Bring her about and steer sou'-east by east, Mr. Ellis. And put two good hands in the chains just to be sure we
do not gut the keel out of her!
'

He crossed to Bolitho's side and waited in silence until his ship was once more under command of wind and rudder. Then he said cheerfully, 'This is always the worst part. The waiting.'

Bolitho nodded, his ears trying to hold on to the swish and creak of oars. But they had gone, swallowed in the other sea noises.

He said, 'Aye. I'd prefer to be going with them.'

Javal laughed. 'God's teeth, sir! I wish to make the Navy my career for many years yet. What chance would there be of that if I allowed my commodore to be taken ?' It seemed to amuse him greatly.

Bolitho snapped, 'I dare say.'

Javal cleared his throat and said in a more sober tone, It will be all of four hours before we know anything, sir. My first lieutenant is very experienced. He has been with me for some eighteen months. He has cut out several such vessels without many losses to us.'

Bolitho nodded. 'I will use your cabin again, if I may. A short sleep will refresh me for tomorrow.'

He could almost hear the lie being thrown back in his face.
Sleep?
It would be easier to walk on water.

Javal watched him grope towards the cabin hatch and shrugged. Bolitho was probably worried about this first action under his overall command. Surely he would not be troubled at the thought of a man or two being, killed ? He reached for the stone bottle and shook it against his ear. It would help the hours to pass more quickly, he decided.

*

Bolitho felt his way to the glowing compass bowl and peered at the steeply tilting
car
d
.
Buzz
ard's
head was almost north-east.

The master said helpfully, 'Beg pardon, sir, but the wind 'as backed two points or so. An' some rain 'as bin fallin'.'

Bolitho nodded and walked forward, his body angled against the deck and the wet pressure of wind across the quarter. It would be dawn soon, and already he could see the nine-pounders on the gun deck standing out like black bars below the weather gangway:

Javal was by the quarterdeck rail, hatless, and with his hair whipping in the wind.

He said shortly, 'Nothing yet.' He looked at him briefly. 'Did you sleep well, sir ?'

Bolitho rested his hands on the rail, feeling the hull shivering and straining like a living thing. He had been unable to remain in the cabin a moment longer. The hours had been an eternity, and Javal's quarters like a damp, unsteady prison.

'A little, thank you.'

'Deck there! Land on th' weather bow!'

Javal snapped, 'Leadsmen to the chains again, Mr. Ellis! Lively now!' In a calmer voice he added, 'That will be the headland. We have clawed round in a mad circle during the night. With the damned wind backing on us, I feared we might be blown hard aground.'

Bolitho said, 'I see.'

He looked away, hiding his feelings from the other man. What had happened ? Where was a signal ? Any sign that the raid had been completed ?

Javal remarked, 'Mears should have fired a gun or a rocket.' Even he sounded uneasy. 'God damn it, we'll be too close inshore within the hour.'

Bolitho ignored him and tried to imagine what it was like beyond the dim shadow which the lookout had reported as land. If Lieutenant Mears and his boats had failed to take the schooner, or for some reason had been unable even to grapple with her, they would have to pull back to the
Buzzard
as best they could. In a stiff wind, and after a night at the oars, they would be in need of help, and quickly.

From forward came the cry, 'By th' mark seven!'

Javal said quietly, 'Jesus!'

The master called anxiously, 'It shallows fast hereabouts, sir!'

'I am aware of that fact, thank you!' Javal glared at him. 'Watch your helm!'