Authors: Alexander Kent
Beckett, the carpenter, was already directing some of his crew to begin repairs on the larboard gangway which had been damaged when a purchase had collapsed under the weight of some incoming stores. The upper deck with its double line of twelve-pounders was like a busy street and a market-place all in one. A place for hard work and gossip, for avoiding authority or seeking favour.
Later, with the decks cleaned up, the hands were piped to sail drill with Palliser at his place on the quarterdeck to watch their frantic efforts to knock seconds off the time it took to reef or make more sail.
And all the while as they lived through the daily routine of a man-of-war, that other sail never left them. Like a tiny moth on the horizon it was always there. When
Destiny
shortened sail and the way fell from beneath her beakhead, the stranger too would follow suit. Spread more canvas and the lookout would immediately report a responding action by the stranger.
Dumaresq came on deck as Gulliver was just completing his supervision of the midshipman's efforts as they took the noon sights to fix the ship's position.
Bolitho was close enough to hear him ask, “Well, Mr Gulliver, how will the weather favour us tonight?” He sounded impatient, even angry that Gulliver should be doing his normal duties.
The sailing master glanced at the sky and the red masthead pendant. “Wind's backed a piece, sir. But the strength is the same. Be no stars tonight, too much cloud in the offing.
Dumaresq bit his lip. “Good. So be it.” He swung round and called, “Pass the word for Mr Palliser.” He saw Bolitho and said, “You have the dog-watches today. Make certain you gather plenty of lanterns near the mizzen. I want our âfriend' to see our lights later on. They will give him confidence.”
Bolitho watched the change in the man, the power running through him like a rising wave, a need to crush this impudent follower.
Palliser came striding aft, his eyes questioning again as he saw Dumaresq speaking with his junior lieutenant.
“Ah, Mr Palliser, I have work for you.”
Dumaresq smiled, but Bolitho could see from the way a nerve was jumping at the corner of his jaw, the stiffness in his back and broad shoulders, that his mind was less relaxed.
Dumaresq made a sweeping gesture. “I shall require the launch ready for lowering at dusk, earlier if the light is poor. A good man in charge, if you please, and extra hands to get her mast stepped and sails set as soon as they are cast off.” He watched Palliser's inscrutable face and added lightly, “I want them to carry several of the large lanterns, too. We shall douse ours and darken ship completely as soon as the launch is clear. Then I intend to beat hard to wind'rd, come about and
wait.
”
Bolitho turned to look at Palliser. To tackle another vessel in the dark was not to be taken flippantly.
Dumaresq added, “I shall flog any man aboard who shows so much as a glow-worm!”
Palliser touched his hat. “I'll attend to it, sir. Mr Slade can take charge of the boat. He's so keen on promotion it'll do him good.”
Bolitho was astounded to see Dumaresq and the first lieutenant laughing together like a pair of schoolboys, as if this was an everyday occurrence.
Dumaresq looked at the sky and then turned to stare astern. Only from the masthead could you see the other vessel, but it was as if he was able to reach beyond the horizon itself. He was calm again, in control of his feelings.
He said, “Something to tell your father about, Mr Bolitho. It would appeal to him.”
A seaman tramped past carrying a great coil of rope across his shoulder like a bundle of dead snakes. It was Stockdale. As the captain vanished below he wheezed, “We goin' to fight that one, sir?”
Bolitho shrugged. “IâI think so.”
Stockdale nodded heavily. “I'll grind an edge on my blade, then.” That was all it apparently meant to him.
Left alone to his thoughts, Bolitho crossed to the rail and looked down at the men already working to free the launch from the other boats on the tier. Did Slade, he wondered, yet realize what might become of him? If the wind rose after they had dropped the launch, Slade could be driven miles off course. It would be harder than finding a pin in a haystack.
Jury came on deck, and after some hesitation joined him by the rail.
Bolitho stared at him. “I thought you were sent aft to do poor Lockyer's work?”
Jury met his gaze. “I asked the first lieutenant if he would send Mr Midshipman Ingrave instead.” Some of his composure collapsed under Bolitho's gaze. “I'd prefer to stay in your watch, sir.”
Bolitho clapped him on the shoulder. “On your head be it.” But he felt pleased all the same.
The boatswain's mates hurried from hatchway to hatchway, their silver calls trilling in between their hoarse cries for the watch below to assist in swaying out the launch.
Jury listened to the shrill whistles and said, “The Spithead nightingales are in full cry this evening, sir.”
Bolitho hid a smile. Jury spoke like an old sailor, a real sea-dog.
He faced him gravely, “You'd better go and see what is being done about the lanterns. Otherwise Mr Palliser will have the both of us in full cry, I'm thinking.”
As dusk came down to conceal their preparations the masthead lookout reported that the other sail was still in sight.
Palliser touched his hat as the captain came on deck. “All ready, sir.”
“Very well.” Dumaresq's eyes shone in the reflected glare from the array of lanterns. “Shorten sail and stand by to lower the boat.” He looked up as the main-topsail filled and boomed sullenly from its yard. “After that, every stitch she can carry. If that ferret back there is a friend, and merely seeking our protection on the high seas, we shall know it. If not, Mr Palliser, he shall know
that,
I promise you!”
An anonymous voice whispered, “Cap'n's comin' up, sir!”
Palliser turned and waited for Dumaresq to join him by the quarterdeck rail.
Gulliver's shadow moved through the gloom. “South by east, sir. Full and bye.”
Dumaresq gave a grunt. “You were right about the clouds, Mr Gulliver, though the wind's fresher than I expected.”
Bolitho stood with Rhodes and three midshipmen at the lee side of the quarterdeck ready to execute any sudden order. More to the point, they were able to share the drama and the tension. Dumaresq's comment had sounded as if he blamed the master for the wind.
He looked up and shivered.
Destiny,
after thrashing and beating her way to windward for what had seemed like an eternity, had come about as Dumaresq had planned. With a stiff wind sweeping over the larboard quarter she was plunging across a procession of breaking white-horses, the spray rising above the weather rigging and sweeping on to the crouching seamen like tropical rain.
Destiny
had been stripped down to her topsails and jib with her big forecourse holding two reefs in readiness for a swift change of tack.
Rhodes murmured, “That other vessel is out there somewhere, Dick.”
Bolitho nodded and tried not to think of the launch as it had vanished into a deepening darkness, the lanterns making a lively show on the water.
It was an eerie feeling, with the ship so quiet around him. Nobody spoke, and the heavily greased gear was without its usual din and clatter. Just the sweeping sea alongside, the occasional rush of water through the lee scuppers as
Destiny
dropped her bows into a deep trough.
Bolitho wanted to forget what was happening around him and to concentrate on what he had to do. Palliser had selected the best seamen in the ship for a boarding party if it came to that. But the sudden upsurge of wind might have changed Dumaresq's ideas, he thought.
He heard Jury moving restlessly by the nettings, and Rhodes' midshipman, Mr Cowdroy, who had been in the ship for two years. He was a haughty, bad-tempered youth of sixteen who would be impossible as a lieutenant. Rhodes had had cause to report him to the captain more than once, and the last time he had been ignominiously caned across a six-pounder by the boatswain. It did not seem to have changed him. Little Merrett made up the trio, trying to keep out of sight, as usual.
Rhodes said softly, “Soon now, Dick.” He loosened the hanger in his belt. “Might be a slaver, who knows?”
Yeames, master's mate of the watch, said cheerfully, “Not likely, sir. You'd
smell
a blackbirder by now!”
Palliser snapped, “Be silent there!”
Bolitho watched the sea curling above the dipping side in a frothing white bank. Beyond it there was nothing but an occasional jagged crest. As black as a boot, as Colpoys had remarked. His marksmen were already aloft in the tops, trying to keep their muskets dry and watching for the first sight of the stranger.
If the captain and Gulliver had timed it correctly, the stranger should appear on
Destiny
's starboard bow. The frigate would hold the wind-gage and the other vessel would have no chance of slipping away. The men at the starboard battery were ready, the gun captains on their knees as they prepared to run out as soon as the word came from aft.
To a civilian sitting by his hearth in England it might all seem like a kind of madness. But to Captain Dumaresq it was something else entirely, and it mattered. The other vessel, whatever she was, was interfering with the King's affairs. That made it personal, not to be taken lightly.
Bolitho gave another shiver as he recalled his first meeting with the captain.
To me, to this ship, and to His Brittanic Majesty, in that order!
Destiny
raised her quivering jib-boom like a lance and seemed to hang motionless on the edge of another trough before she plunged forward and down, her bows smashing through solid water and flinging spray high above the forecastle.
From one corner of his eye Bolitho saw something fall from overhead. It hit the deck and exploded with a loud bang.
Rhodes ducked as a ball whined dangerously past his face and gasped, “A damned bullock has dropped his musket!”
Startled voices and harsh accusations erupted from the gun-deck, and Lieutenant Colpoys ran to the quarterdeck ladder in his haste to deal with the culprit.
It all happened in a swift sequence of events. The sudden explosion as
Destiny
ploughed her way towards the next array of crests, the attention of officers and seamen distracted for just a few moments.
Palliser said angrily, “Stop that noise, damn your eyes!”
Bolitho turned and then froze as out of the darkness, running with the wind, came the other vessel. Not safely downwind to starboard, but right here, rising above the larboard side like a phantom.
“Put up your helm!”
Dumaresq's powerful voice stopped some of the startled men in their tracks. “Man the braces there, stand by on the quarterdeck!”
Rearing and plunging, her sails booming and thundering in wild confusion,
Destiny
began to swing away from the oncoming vessel. Gun crews who minutes earlier had been nursing their weapons in readiness for a fight were caught totally unawares, and even now were tumbling across to help the men on the opposite side where the twelve-pounders still pointed at their sealed ports.
More spray burst over the quarterdeck as another sea surged jubilantly across the nettings and drenched the men nearby. Order was being restored, and Bolitho saw seamen straining back on the braces until they seemed to be touching the deck itself.
He shouted, “Stand to, men!” He was groping for his hanger even as he realized that Rhodes and his midshipman had already gone running to the bows. “She'll be into us directly!”
A shot echoed above the din of sea and wind, but whether fired by accident or by whom, Bolitho did not know or care.
He felt Jury by his side.
“What'll we do, sir?”
He sounded frightened. As well he might, Bolitho thought. Merrett was clinging to the nettings as if nothing would ever shift him.
Bolitho used something like physical strength to control his stampeding thoughts. He was in charge. Nobody else was here to lead, to advise. Everyone on the upper deck was too occupied with his own role.
He managed to shout, “Stay with me.” He pointed at a running figure. “You, clear the starboard battery and prepare to repel boarders!”
As men floundered cursing and shouting in all directions, Bolitho heard Dumaresq's voice. He was on the opposite side of the deck, yet seemed to be speaking into Bolitho's ear.
“
Board,
Mr Bolitho!” He swung round as Palliser sent more men to shorten sail in a last attempt to delay the impact of collision. “She must not escape!”
Bolitho stared at him, his eyes wild. “Aye, sir!”
He was about to draw his hanger when with a thundering crash the other vessel drove hard alongside. But for Dumaresq's quick action she would have rammed into the
Destiny
's broadside like a giant axe.