Command a King's Ship Page 16

  `Tomorrow probably, but I can tell you now. You will weigh the day after you receive your orders. No delays. Maximum haste. We will have company on the passage.'

  `Sir?'

  Bolitho was certain that Conway's thoughts were elsewhere, even though his ideas came out in perfect order.

  `Brig. Don Puigserver has chartered her for his own use. Partly my suggestion. It is too close to the war for me to take a Don as a friend.'

  `I see, sir.'

  `You don't. But no matter.'

  He walked to the stern windows and stared at the shoreline, at the countless tiny craft which jostled the waterfront like busy insects.

  `I would like to stay aboard, Bolitho.' `Until we weigh, sir?'

  Bolitho looked around the cabin. Tiny compared with the residence ashore.

  `Yes.' He swung away from the windows. 'D'you object?' Just for a second it was there again. The same voice which Bolitho still remembered.

  `No, sir.' He smiled. `I have been waiting to broach some wine I have brought from London, I '

  `London?' Conway sighed. `That cursed place. I've not set foot there for five years. A plague on it and its selfishness!'

  `Perhaps it has changed since-'

  `People do not change, Bolitho.' He touched his breast. `Not here, inside. You, of all people, should know that. When I learned who commanded my transport, I knew you would be as you are. Not so merry-eyed and trusting perhaps, but you've not altered.'

  Madras 145

  Bolitho stayed silent, watching the emotions on the other man's face, each one perhaps representing a memory.

  'Gorgon seems an eternity back in time. The best moments were with her, although I did not realise it was so.'

  yBolitho said carefully, `Your new post will probably make ou believe otherwise, sir.'

  `You think that?' Conway smiled, but no humour touched his eyes. `It is given to me because I will succeed. I must. There is nothing else left. When you make a slip, Bolitho, you sometimes get one final chance to redeem yourself.' He pounded one hand against the other. `And I intend to succeed!'

  There was a tap at the door and Allday stepped into the cabin.

  `Who is this fellow?'

  `My coxswain, sir.' Bolitho had to smile at the incredulous look on Allday's face.

  `I see.'

  Allday said, `Mr. Herrick's respects, and could you come on deck to receive Bedford's captain.'

  Bolitho excused himself to Conway and followed him from the cabin.

  Allday muttered, `Fellow, Captain? He was a trifle hard, I thought.'

  Bolitho grinned. `I am sure that when he knows you better he will call you by your first name!'

  Allday faced him guardedly and then chuckled. `No doubt, Captain.' He lowered his voice. `A message has been sent aboard.' He held out an engraved card, tiny in his broad palm.

  She had written across the back, Eight o'clock. Please come.

  Bolitho stared from it to Allday's masklike face.

  `Who gave you this?'

  `A servant, Captain.' His eyes did not even flicker. `The lady knows she can trust me.'

  Bolitho turned away to hide his expression. `Thank you.'

  Allday watched him hurry up the quarterdeck ladder and grinned. `It will do him good.' He saw the marine sentry watching him and snapped, `Who are you gaping at?' He grinned again. `My good fellow?'

  9

  Gift from a Lady

  One hour before the morning watch was relieved Bolitho came on deck to enjoy the most peaceful time of the day. With his shirt open to his waist he crossed to the weather side and studied the set of each individual sail before going aft to consult the compass. Madras lay twelve days astern, but the wind, which had begun so promisingly, had lulled to a gentle breeze, so that even with all sails set it was unlikely they could maintain more than four knots.

  Fowlar was scribbling on the slate beside the wheel, but straightened his back as Bolitho approached.

  He touched his forehead and reported, `East by south, sir. Full an' bye.'

  Bolitho nodded and shaded his eyes to watch the sails again. The wind, such as it was, came from the south-west, and Undine's yards were braced well round, laying her over to the starboard tack. About a mile abeam the brig Rosalind had no difficulty in maintaining station on her heavier consort, and Bolitho found himself tempted to take a telescope and examine her more closely.

  Fowlar seemed to think that he was expected to add something to his report and said, `Might pick up before nightfall, sir. Mr. Mudge seems to think the wind'll freshen when once we enter the Malacca Strait.'

  'Er, yes.'

  Bolitho tried to compose himself. FromRosalind's deck Undine must make a beautiful sight under full canvas. But for once this gave him little consolation. He wanted to drive his ship faster to become involved with his mission. Ghosting along like

  Gift from a Lady 147

  this, even if idyllic for poet or artist, gave too much time for

  other thoughts.

  He saw Davy hurrying towards him, frowning as he said, `I beg pardon for not seeing you come on deck, sir.' He gestured towards the main mast. `I was dealing with a complaint from a marine.' He added swiftly, `Nothing important.'

  ,you are officer of the watch, Mr. Davy. You should know by now I don't interfere in your affairs merely to excite attention.' He smiled. `A fine day, is it not?'

  `Yes, sir.'

  Davy followed his gaze over the nettings. The sea was very blue, and apart from the low-hulled brig there was not a speck of land or another ship to break the emptiness, its sense of vastness.

  Davy asked casually, `Is it true this sort of mission often leads to permanent appointments in the realm of colonial government, sir?'

  Bolitho nodded. `Rear Admiral Conway's appointment is such.'

  He watched Davy's tanned features gravely. He was worried about something. It was showing now, just like the time when he had selected Soames and not him for the raiding party.

  `I was thinking . . .'Davy faltered. `I am of course well content with life as a King's officer. It is what I want. I am the first in my family to follow the sea. My father was a city merchant and had no use for service life. He was loath to allow me to enter the Navy.'

  Bolitho wished he would get on with it. He said encouragingly, `Mr. Herrick is like you. The first sailor in his family.'

  `Yes.' Davy looked suddenly desperate as Soames emerged from the cabin hatch, yawning and consulting his pocket watch. `Well, it is not exactly what I meant, sir.'

  Bolitho turned and faced him. `Mr. Davy, I would be obliged if you would come to the point. In an hour it will be an'oven again. I would like to take my walk before breakfast, and not wait until after dinner tonight.'

  Davy bit his lip. `I am sorry, sir.' He nodded firmly. `Yes, I will try to explain.' He lowered his eyes. `May I speak of your brother, sir?'

  Bolitho tensed. `My late brother?'

  `I did not mean to offend.' Davy looked up and allowed the words to come out in a flood. `I heard somewhere that he quit the Navy.'

  Bolitho waited. Always it seemed to catch up with him. Now even his second lieutenant was risking a rebuke to satisfy his own curiosity. But he was wrong in Davy's case.

  Davy said quietly, `It was because of his gambling, I was told?'

  He looked so strained, so pleading, that Bolitho forgot his own bitterness and asked, `Is that what bothers you? Gambling?'

  `Yes, sir. Like a fool I tried to win back my losses in London. With my father dead I am responsible for my mother's welfare, and that of the estate.' He looked away. `In time of war I might have gained early promotion, and all the prize-money which went with it.'

  `You could have just as easily been killed.' Bolitho added gently, `Am I to be told how much you owe?' `Twenty, sir.'

  Bolitho stared at him. `In God's name, you could pawn your dress-coat for more, man!'

  „I1, Davy gritted his teeth. `Twenty thousand, sir.'

  Bolitho ran his f
ingers through his hair. 'Undine and the brig

  yonder would cost about that sum. And I thought you had

  more sense.'

  `Perhaps I should have kept my secret, sir.' Davy was shamefaced. Wretched.

  `No. It is better shared. At least you are safe from your creditors out here.' He watched Davy grimly. `But twenty thousand. It is a small fortune.'

  Soames clumped past and beckoned to a bosun's mate. `Have the watch piped aft, Kellock.' He was careful to keep to the lee side of the deck.

  Davy hurried on, well aware that Soames was waiting to relieve him. `You see, sir, I thought that on a voyage such as ours I might gain some new standing.'

  `I see. However, this is a mission of protection, not of dis

  covery, or the capture of Spanish gold.' He nodded to Soames

  and added softly, `But I will keep it in mind.'

  He began to pace the deck while the two lieutenants conversed over the compass.

  Undine had gathered all sorts within her slender hull. It was not only the lower deck which sported its fortune-hunters, it seemed. He saw Midshipman Keen walking along the larboard gangway with Armitage, and prayed he would never be left in Davy's predicament, or in one such as his brother Hugh's.

  In family background Davy and Keen were similar. Both had wealthy parents who had gained promotion in trade rather than in the King's service. Davy's father had died leaving his son and heir totally unprepared for the temptations which he had managed to overcome. Keen on the other hand had been sent to sea because of his father's riches and influence. Her-tick had said that Keen had confided in him during a night watch in the Indian Ocean. To make a man of me. It had seemed to amuse him, Herrick had said. But Keen's father must be a remarkable man, Bolitho thought. There were not many who would risk a son's life or limb for such a goal.

  He saw Noddall scurrying aft along the gun deck with a can of boiling water from the galley. Conway must be up and about, waiting to be shaved. It was surprising how little Conway's presence aboard had interfered with daily life. He had explained it himself. Informal. That did not mean he was disinterested. Quite the reverse. Whenever a ship had been sighted, or the hands had been called to reef or make sail, he had been there, watching. Once, when becalmed for half a day, the seamen had streamed a seine net in the hopes of getting some fresh fish. Just a few flounders, and some flatheaded fish which Mudge had knowingly described as `foxes' were the entire result of their efforts, but Conway could not have been more pleased if they had caught a whale.

  It was as if he was living out every hour, like a prisoner awaiting sentence. It was not pleasant to watch.

  Bolitho was not quite twenty-eight years old, but as a postcaptain with two previous commands behind him he had learned to accept, if not agree, with many of the Navy's judgements.

  Conway's experience had come out at dinner, one evening in the cabin. It was the second day out of Madras, and Bolitho had told Noddall to fetch some of his special wine to make it an occasion. It was madeira, the most expensive he had ever purchased in his life. Conway hardly seemed to notice. Had he been offered cider, Bolitho doubted if he would have remarked on it. But he had become very drunk. Not slowly, or by accident, or even out of bravado. But with the firm determination of one who has been too often alone, and wishes to blur the realisation without delay.

  It had all happened two years back in these same waters, when the French admiral, Suffren, had captured Trincomalee and very nearly toppled Britain's power in India for good. Conway had started to tell his story as if Bolitho had not been there. As if he just wanted to make sure he could still remember it.

  He had been in command of an inshore squadron and employed on the protection of supply ships and military convoys. A sloop had brought news of a French squadron off the coast of Ceylon, and without ado he had set off to engage or cripple the enemy ships until help arrived to complete the victory.

  Unbeknown to Conway, another sloop was already searching for him, sent by the Commander-in-Chief with new orders for the defence of Trincomalee. Conway reached the area where the French had been sighted, only to find them gone. Fishermen informed him they had sailed towards the very position he had just left, and with an anxiety which Bolitho could only imagine, he had put his ships about once again. He managed to find and bring the French rear to a brief but unsatisfactory action before losing contact in the night. When dawn united his small squadron again, Conway found the supply ships which he had been guarding had been captured or destroyed, and when the admiral's sloop contacted him, she, too, had fresh news to cancel all previous instructions. Trincomalee had been taken.

  In the silence of the cabin Conway's voice had risen suddenly, like a dying man's cry.

  `Another day and I've have brought them to grips ! Not Suffren, nor any other admiral, could have got us out of Ceylon then!'

  Bolitho looked up as the first working parties swarmed aloft for the constant round of repairs, splicing and stitching. It was all too plain. Conway could have emerged a hero. Instead, he was seized upon as a scapegoat. He must still have influence

  somewhere, he thought. A governorship, no matter where it was, represented reward rather than a continuance of disgrace.

  He halted in his stride, his mind suddenly very alert. But suppose there was a second, more devious reason? Another scapegoat perhaps?

  He shook his head. What would be the point of that?

  Bolitho turned as Allday walked along the quarterdeck towards him.

  `Breakfast's ready, Captain.' He squinted his eyes towards the brig. `Still with us then?' He smiled calmly at Bolitho's steady gaze. `That's good.'

  Bolitho watched him and wondered. It was the same look he had given when he had brought the gig for him at Madras.

  `Thank you.' He added coldly, `And what is amusing you now?'

  Allday shrugged. `Hard to put a name to it, Captain. It's a sort of glow I get inside sometimes.' He massaged his stomach. `Comforting.'

  Bolitho strode past him towards the hatch. His morning had been badly interrupted.

  As he stepped into the cool shadows between decks he imagined Viola Raymond just a mile abeam in the brig. Her husband would be watching her. Mister Pigsliver would be watching both of them.

  It was still hard to know what she really thought about him, or if she saw his attraction as some sort of game. There had been several visitors staying at the residence, soldiers, Company officials, but she had been determined to keep him to herself. It had not been anything she had actually said. It had been more of an excitement, a sense of recklessness. A dare which he found impossible to ignore.

  She had no longer stayed at arms' length, and several times had allowed her hand to linger on his, even when Raymond had had been close by.

  When he had made to return to the ship she had followed him on to a shaded terrace below the inner wall, and had held out a small box.

  `For you.'

  She had made light of it, but he had seen the hot eagerness in her eyes, the thrust of her breasts beneath her gown as he had opened the box.

  It was a gold watch.

  While he had turned it over in his hands she had gripped his arm and had whispered, `I will always remember your face that day. ..'But she had not laughed that time. `Do not refuse my little gift, please.'

  He had taken her hand and kissed it, his mind grappling with what he was doing, seeing all the dangers, and yet dismissing them.

  `It is as well you are sailing in another ship, Captain !' She had laughed and then had pulled his hand below her breast. `See how my heart beats now! A week, a day even, and who can say what might occur!'

  Bolitho walked past the sentry and into the cabin, his mind still hanging on to that moment.

  Conway was spreading thick treacle on a biscuit, his wispy hair ruffling in the breeze from the stern windows. `What time is it, Bolitho?'

  `Time, sir?'

  Conway eyed him wryly before taking a mouthful.

  `I observed that
you had your, er, new watch in your hand

  and assumed that time was of some importance?'

  Bolitho stared at him, the midshipman in front of his

  captain again.

  Then he grinned. `It was a memory, sir, that was all.' Conway sniffed. `That I can well believe!P

  'It makes a fine sight, Thomas.'

  Bolitho lowered the telescope and wiped his forehead with the back of one hand. The noon sun was merciless, but like most of the men around him, or standing high in the shrouds, he was momentarily unaware of it. Fifteen days out of Madras, and in spite of the wind's perversity, Undine had done well. Bolitho had made many landfalls in his time, but the sight of any shore after the hazards and doubts of navigation never failed to move him.

  And now, just visible through the glare of sea and sky, he could see a smudge of green across the larboard side, and felt a fresh excitement and satisfaction. The narrowest part of the Malacca Strait. To starboard, hidden even to the masthead lookout, was the great scimitar-shaped island of Sumatra, poised as if to squeeze the strait shut and leave them sailing in a wilderness forever.

  Herrick said, `It seems a mite too narrow for comfort, sir.'

  Bolitho smiled at him. `It is wider than the English Channel even here, Thomas. The master assures me it is the safest course to take.'

  `Perhaps.' Herrick shaded his eyes again. `So that is Malacca, eh? It is hard to believe we have reached this far.'

  `And in five days or so, with God's good grace, we'll anchor in Pendang Bay.' He paused, seeing the doubt in Herrick's blue eyes. `Well, come on, Thomas, let us see that smile again!V

  'Yes, sir, I know it is a good and fast passage, and I am well satisfied, as you are.' He fidgeted with his belt buckle. `But I am more concerned with something else.'

  `I see.'

  Bolitho waited, knowing what was coming. He had seen the worry mounting in Herrick's face over the past fifteen days. Having to spend much of his time with the admiral, Bolitho had had little chance of enjoying Herrick's company. A walk together before dusk, a pipe of tobacco and a glass of wine.

  Herrick said bluntly, `Everyone knows about it, sir. It's not my place to speak on your behaviour, but ...'