Clash, clash, clash, Bolitho parried and cut at the other man, who took every advantage to press and follow each attack.

There was a clang, and Bolitho felt the hanger torn-from his fingers, the lanyard around his wrist severed by the force of the blow.

He heard a frantic voice yell, 'Here, sir!' It was Jury, as he hurled a sword' across the writhing bodies hilt-first.

Bolitho's .desperation came to his aid. Somehow he .caught it, twisting it in his grip as he felt its balance and length. Tiny pictures flashed through his mind. His father teaching him and his brother Hugh in the walled kitchen garden at Falmouth. Then later, matching careful movements against each other.

He sobbed as the other man's sword cut through his sleeve just below his armpit. Another inch and... He felt the fury sweeping everything else aside, an insanity which seemed to give him back his strength, even his hope,

Bolitho* locked blades again, feeling his opponent's hatred, smelling his strength and his sweat.

He heard Stockdale calling in his strange, husky voice and knew he was being :pressed too hard to reach his side. Others had stopped fighting, their wind .broken as they stared with glazed eyes at the two swordsmen in their midst.

From another world, or so it seemed, came the crash of a single cannon. A ball hissed over the deck and slammed through a flapping sail like an iron fist. Destiny was nearby, and her captain had taken the risk of killing some of his own men to make his presence felt and understood.

Some of the brigantine's men threw down their weapons instantly. Others were less fortunate and were felled by the inflamed boarders even as they tried to grasp what was happening.

Bolitho's adversary shouted wildly, 'Too late f0r you, sir!' He thrust Bolitho back with his fist, measured the distance and lunged.

Bolitho heard Jury cry out, saw Little running towards him, his teeth bared like a wild animal.

After all the agony and the hate, it was too easy and without any sort of dignity. He held his balance and did not even, have to guide his feet and arms as he stepped aside, using the other man's charge to flick his blade in one ringing encounter and then drive his own beneath the lost guard and into his chest.

Little dragged the man away and raised his bloodied axe as he tried to struggle free.

Bolitho shouted, 'Belay that! Let him be!'

He looked round, feeling dazed and sick, as some of his men gave a wild cheer.

Little let the man fall to the deck and wiped his face with the back of his wrist, as if he too was slowly but reluctantly letting go of the madness. Until the next time.

Bolitho saw Jury sitting with his back against a broken spar, his hands clasped across his stomach. He knelt down and tried to drag Jury's fingers away. Not him, he thought. Not so soon.

A seaman Bolitho recognized as one of his best maintop- men bent down and jerked the midshipman's hands apart.

Bolitho swallowed hard and tore the shirt open, remembering Jury's fear and his trust at the moment of boarding. Bolitho was young, but he had done this sort of thing before.

He peered at the wound and felt like praying. A blade must have been stopped by the large gilt plate on Jury's cross-belt, he could see the scored metal even in the poor light. It had taken the real force, and the attacker had only managed to scar the youth's stomach.

The seaman grinned and fashioned a wad from Jury's torn shirt. 'He'll be all right, sir. Just a nick.'

Bolitho got shakily to his feet, one hand resting on the man's shoulder for support.

'Thank you, Murray. That was well said.'

The man looked up at him as if trying to understand something.

'I saw him throw that sword to you, sir. It was then that some other bugger made his play.' He wiped his cutlass absently on a piece of sailcloth. 'It was the last bloody thing he did do on this earth!'

Bolitho walked aft towards the abandoned wheel. Voices from the past seemed to be following him, reminding him of this particular moment,

They will be looking to you now. The fight .and fury bas gone out of them. He turned and shouted, 'Take the prisoners below and put them under guard.' *He sought out a familiar face from others who had followed him blindly without really knowing what they were doing.

'You, Southmead, man the wheel. 'The rest go with Little and cut free the wreckage alongside.'

He glanced quickly at Jury. His eyes were open and he was trying not to cry out from the pain.

Bolitho forced a smile, his lips frozen and unreal. 'We have a prize. Thank you for what you did. It took real courage.'

Jury tried to reply but fainted away again.

Through the wind and spray Bolitho heard the booming challenge of Captain Dumaresq's voice through a speaking trumpet.

Bolitho called to Stockdale, 'Answer for me. I am spent!' As the two vessels drew Closer, their fine lines marred by broken spars and dangling' rigging, Stockdale cupped his big hands and yelled, 'The ship is ours, sir!'

There was a ragged cheer from the frigate. It seemed obvious to Bolitho that Dumaresq had not expected to find a single one of them left alive.

Palliser's crisp tones replaced the captain's resonant voice. 'Lay to if you are able! We must recover Mr Slade and his boat!'

Bolitho imagined he could hear someone laughing.

He raised his hand as the frigate tacked slowly and awkwardly away, men already working on her yards to haul up fresh canvas and reeve new Blocks.

Then he looked at the brigantine's deck, at the wounded men who were moaning quietly or trying to drag themselves away like sick animals will do.

There were some who would never move.

As the light continued to strengthen, Bolitho examined the sword which Jury had flung to save him. In the dull light the blood was like black paint, on "the hilt and up to his own wrist.

Little came aft again. The new third lieutenant was young. In a moment be would fling the-sword over-the side, his guts soured by what they had done together. That would be a pity. Later he would want it to give to his father or his sweetheart.

Little said, "Ere, sir, I'll take *that an' give it a shamper for you.' He saw Bolitho's hesitation and added affably, 'It's bin a real mate to you. Always look after yer mates, that's what Josh Little says, sir.'

Bolitho handed it to him. 'I, expect you're right.'

He straightened his back, even though every muscle and fibre seemed to be cutting him like hot bands.

'Lively, men! There's much to de.' He recalled the captain's words. 'It won't do it by itself!'

From beneath the foremast and its attendant pile of fallen debris Stockdale watched him and then gave a satisfied nod.

One more fight had ended.

Bolitho waited wearily by Dumaresq's table in Destiny's cabin, his aching limbs at odds with the frigate's motion'. Dull daylight had revealed the brigantine's name to be Heloise, outward bound from Bridport in Dorset to the Caribbean, by way of Madeira to take on a cargo of wine.

Dumaresq finished leafing through the brigantine's log-book and then glanced at Bolitho.

'Do sit, Mr Bolitho. Before you fall down.'

He .rose and walked to the quarter windows, pressing his face against the thick glass to seek out the brigantine which was lying in Destiny's lee. Palliser and a fresh, boarding party had gone across earlier, the first lieutenant's experience in much demand as they sought to repair the damage and get the vessel under way again.

Dumaresq said, 'You performed well. Extremely so. For one so young and as yet inexperienced in leading men, you achieved more than I'd dared to hope.' He clasped his powerful hands behind his coat-tails as if to contain his anger.. 'But seven of our people are dead, others badly injured.' He reached up and banged the skylight with his knuckles. 'Mr Rhodes! Be so good-as to find out what the damned surgeon is about!'

Bolitho forgot his tiredness, his previous resentment at being ordered .from his prize to make way for the first lieutenant. It was fascinating to 'watch the slow rise of Dumaresq's anger. Like a. smoldering fuse as it edges towards the first cask of powder. It must have. made poor Rhodes jump to hear his captain's voice rising from the deck at his feet.

Dumaresq turned to Bolitho. 'Good men killed. Piracy and murder, no less!'

He had made no mention of the miscalculation which all but wrecked or. dismasted both ships.

Be was saying, 'I knew they were up to something. It was evident at Funchal that too many ears, and eyes were abroad.' He ticked off the points on his strong fingers . 'My clerk, just to get the contents of his satchel. Then the brigantine, which must have quit England about the same time as we left Plymouth, happens to be in harbour. Her master must have known I could not beat to wind'rd and make a chase of it. So long as he kept his distance he was safe.'

Bolitho. understood. If Destiny had clawed round to approach the other vessel in daylight, the Heloise would have had the advantage of the wind and the distance. The frigate could outpace her in any fair chase; but under cover of darkness the brigantine would easily slip away if expertly handled. Bolitho thought of the gaunt man he had cut down in the fight to hold the deck. He could almost pity him. Almost. Dumaresq had ordered him to be brought across so that Bulkley, the surgeon, could save his life, if that were possible.

Dumaresq added, 'By God, it proves something, if more proof were needed. We are on the right scent.'

The marine sentry called, 'Surgeon, sir!'

Dumaresq glanced at the perspiring surgeon. 'And about bloody time, man!'

Bulkley shrugged, either indifferent to Dumaresq's explosive temper or so used to it that it meant nothing to him.

'The man is alive, sir. A bad wound but a clean one.' He glanced curiously at Bolitho. 'He's a strong fellow, too. I'm surprised and gratified to see you in one portion!' Dumaresq snapped, 'Never mind all that. How dare that ruffian interfere with a King's ship. He'll get no mercy from me, be certain of it!'

He calmed slowly. It was like watching the sea receding, Bolitho thought.

'I must find out what I can from him. Mr Palliser is searching the Heloise's hull, but in view of what Mr Bolitho took pains to discover, I think it unlikely we will gain much. According to the log she was launched last year and completed just a month back. Though she's hardly big enough for useful commerce, I'd have thought.'

Bolitho wanted to leave, to try and wash the stain of combat from his hands and mind.

The surgeon remarked, 'Mr Jury is well enough. A nasty cut, but he is a healthy boy. There'll be' no after effects.'

Dumaresq gave a smile. 'I spoke with him when he was brought up from the cutter. A touch of hero-worship there, I think, Mr Bolitho?'

'He saved my life, sir. He's no cause to praise me for that.'

Dumaresq nodded. 'Hmmm. We shall see.'

He changed tack. 'We shall be sailing in company before nightfall. Keep all hands busy, that's the thing. Mr Palliser will need to rig a jury topgallant mast on that damned pirate, but it must be done.' He glanced at Bolitho. 'Pass the word to the quarterdeck. Change masthead lookouts every hour'. We'll use this enforced respite to keep our eyes open for other would-be followers. As it stands, we have a fine little prize, and nobody yet Knows anything about it. It might assist in some way.

Bolitho stood up, his legs heavy again. So there. was to be no rest.

Dumaresq said, 'Turn up the hands at noon to witness burial, Mr Bolitho. We'll send the poor. fellows on their last journey while we lie to.' He scattered the sentiment by adding, 'No sense in wasting time once we are under way.'

Bulkley followed Bolitho past the sentry and towards the ladder which led below to the main-sleek.

The surgeon gave a sigh. 'He has the bit between his teeth now.'

Bolitho looked at him to try and understand his feelings. But" it was too dark between decks, with only the ship's sounds and smells rising around them for company.

'Is it the bullion?'

Bulkley lifted his head to listen to the muffled shouts from a boat coming alongside, booming against the hull in the deep swell.

'You are still too young to understand, Richard.' He laid a plump hand on Bolitho's sleeve. 'And that was no sort of criticism, believe me. But I have met men such as our captain, and I know him better than many. He is a fine officer in most respects, if a trifle headstrong. But he yearns for action like a drunkard craves the bottle. He commands this fine frigate, but he feels deep down that it is too late or too early for him. With England at peace, the chances of distinction and advancement are few. It suits me very well, but...,' he shook his head. 'I have said enough, but I know you will respect my confidence.'

He ambled to the ladder, leaving an aroma of brandy and tobacco to join the other smells already present.

Bolitho walked forward into the daylight and then ran quickly up a ladder to the quarterdeck. He knew that if he did not keep moving he would fall asleep on his feet.

Destiny's gun-deck was littered with broken rigging, amidst which the boatswain and the ropemaker stood and discussed what might still be saved. Above the decks the seamen were busy splicing and hammering, and the torn sails were already brought down to be patched and stowed away for emergencies. A ship-of-war was self-sufficient. Nothing could be wasted. Some of that canvas would soon be gliding into the sea-bed, weighted down with round shot to* carry the dead to the place where there was only darkness and peace.

Rhodes crossed to his side. 'Good to have you back, Dick.' He dropped his voice as they both turned to look across at the drifting brigantine. The lord and master was like an enraged lion after you'd broken free from the side. I shall tread very warily for the next week.'

Bolitho studied the other vessel. It was more like a dream than ever now. It was nard to believe he had managed to rally his men and take the Heloise after all which had happened. Men had died. He had probably killed at least one of them himself. But it had no meaning. No substance.

He walked to the rail and saw several of the faces on the deck below turn up towards him. What did they think, he wondered? Rhodes seemed genuinely pleased for him, but there would be envy, others might feel he had been too lucky, too successful for one so junior.

Spillane, the surgeon's new helper, appeared on the lee gangway and threw a parcel over the side.

Bolitho felt sick. What was it? An arm or a leg? It could have been his.

He heard Slade, the master's mate, yelling abuse at some unfortunate seaman. The Destiny's recovery of the launch and the thankful shouts, of the exhausted crew when she had eventually discovered them had apparently done nothing to make Slade any gentler.

In due course the dead men were buried, while the living stood with bared heads as the captain read a few words from his prayer book.

Then, after a hasty meal and a welcome tot of brandy, the hands turned to again, and the air was filled with the noise of saws and hammers, with strong smells of paint, and tar for the seams, to mark their progress.

Dumaresq came on deck at the end of the afternoon watch and for several minutes looked at his ship and then at the clearing sky which told him more than any instrument.

He said to Bolitho, who was once more officer of the watch, 'Look at our people working. Ashore they are branded as saw bucks and no-good drunkards. But give 'em a piece of rope or a span of timber an' you'll see what they can do.'

He spoke with such feeling that Bolitho ventured to ask, 'Do you think another war is coming, sir?'

For an instant he thought he had gone too far. Dumaresq turned quickly on his thick legs, his eyes hard as he said, 'You have been speaking with that damned sawbones, eh?'

Then he gave deep chuckle. There is no need to answer. You have not yet learned deceit.' He moved to the opposite side for his usual stroll, then added, 'War? I am depending on it!'

Before darkness closed into hide one ship from another, Palliser sent word to say he was ready to proceed and would repair the less important damage in the days on passage for Rio.

Slade had gone across to the Heloise to take charge of the prize crew, and Palliser returned in the quarter-boat even as nightfall joined the sky to the horizon like a curtain.

Bolitho marveled at the way Palliser kept going. He showed no sign of tiredness, and did not spare himself as he bustled about the ship using a lantern to examine every repair and shouting for the culprit if he discovered something which he considered to be shoddy workmanship.

Thankfully Bolitho climbed into his cot, his coat on 'the deck where it had fallen. Around him Destiny shivered and groaned as she rode a quarter sea without effort, as if she too was grateful for a rest.

It was the same throughout the hull. Bulkley sat in, his sick-bay drawing on a long clay pipe and- sharing some of his brandy with Codd, the purser.

Outside, barely visible on the orlop deck, the remaining sick and wounded slept or whimpered quietly in the darkness.

In the cabin Dumaresq was at his table writing busily in his personal diary, without a coat, and with his shirt open to the waist: Occasionally he glanced at the screen door as if to pierce it and see the length of his command, his world. And sometimes he looked up at the deck head as Gulliver's footsteps told him that the master was still brooding over the collision, fearful the blame might be laid at his door.

Throughout the main-deck; where there was barely room to stand upright, the bulk of the ship's company swung in their hammocks to Destiny's regular plunging 'motion. Like lines of heat pods, waiting ro give birth in an instant if the wind so ordered or the drums beat to quarters.

Some men, unable to sleep or working their watch on deck, still thought of the short, bitter fight, of moments when they had known fear. Of familiar faces which had been wiped away, or of the prize money the handsome brigantine might bring them.

Tossing in his cot in the sick-bay, Midshipman Jury' went over the attack yet again. Of his desperate need to help Bolitho as the lieutenant's hanger had been hurled away, of the sudden agony across his stomach .like a hot iron. He thought of his dead father whom he could scarcely remember and hoped he would have been proud of what he had done.

And Destiny carried them all. From the, grim-faced Palliser who sat opposite Colpoys in the deserted wardroom, the cards mocking him from the table, to the servant, Poad, snoring in his hammock, they were all at her mercy as her figurehead reached our for the horizon which never drew any nearer.

Two weeks after seizing the brigantine, Destiny crossed the Equator on her way south. Even the master seemed pleased with their progress and the distance covered. A convenient wind and milder, warmer air did much to raise the men's spirits and keep them free of illness .

Crossing the line was a new experience for over a third of the ship's company. Boisterous horse-play and skylarking which accompanied the ceremony were encouraged by a four days' allowance of wine and spirits for everybody.

With Little, the gunner's mate, making a formidable Neptune in a painted crown and a beard of spun yarn, accompanied by his bashful queen in the shape of one of the ship's boys, all the newcomers to his kingdom were soundly ducked and abused.

Afterwards, Dumaresq joined his officers in the ward- room and stated his satisfaction with the ship's performance and swift passage. They had left the Heloise far astern, with some of her damage still being repaired. Dumaresq was obviously in no mood to delay his own landfall, and had ordered Slade to meet him off Rio with all the haste he could manage.

On most days Destiny pushed her way along under all plain sail, and would have made a fine sight had there been any other -vessel to share their ocean. Working high above the decks, or employed in regular sail and gun drill, the new hands began to fit into the routine, and Bolitho saw the pallid skins of those who had come from the debtors' jails or worse taking on a deeper hue as the sun grew stronger with each passing day.

Another of the men who had been wounded in the fight had died, bringing the total to eight. Watched night and day by one of Colpoys' marines, the Heloise's master continued to regain his strength, and Bolitho imagined Dumaresq was set on keeping him alive if only to see him hang for piracy".

Midshipman Jury had been allowed to return to duty, but was confined to working on deck or standing his watch aft. Strangely enough, their brief moment of shared danger and courage seemed to hold him and Bolitho apart, and, although they met several times every day, Bolitho could sense a certain discomfort between them.

Maybe the captain had been right. Perhaps Jury's hero-worship, as he had termed it, had created an embarrassment rather than a bond.

Little Merrett, on the other hand, seemed to have gained more confidence than anyone would have thought possible. It was as if he had expected to be killed, and that now he was convinced nothing worse could ever happen to him. He ran up the shrouds with the other midshipmen, and during the dog-watches his shrill voice was often heard in some contest or argument with his companions.

One evening, as the ship ghosted along under her courses and topsails and Bolitho took over the first watch for Lieutenant Rhodes, he saw Jury watching the other midshipmen skylarking in the fighting tops, probably wishing he was up there with them.

Bolitho waited for the helmsman to call, 'Steady as she goes, sir! Sou'-sou'-west!' Then he crossed to the midshipman's side and asked, 'How is the wound?'

Jury looked at him and smiled. 'It no longer hurts, sir. I am lucky.' His fingers strayed to his leather cross-belt and touched the scar on the gilt plate. 'Were they really pirates?'

Bolitho shrugged. 'I believe they were intent on following us, spies perhaps, but in the eyes of the law they will be seen as pirates.'

He had thought a great deal about it since that terrible night. He suspected Dumaresq and Palliser knew a lot more than they were telling, that the captured brigantine was deeply involved with Destiny's secret mission and her brief stay at Funchal.

He said, 'But if we maintain this pace we shall be in Rio in a week's time. Then I dare say we shall learn the truth.'

Gulliver appeared on the quarterdeck and peered up at the hardening canvas for a long minute without speaking. Then he said, 'Wind's getting up. I think we should shorten sail.' He hesitated, watching Bolitho's face. 'Will you tell the captain, or shall I?'

Bolitho looked at the topsails as they filled and tightened to the wind. In the dying sunlight they looked like great pink shells. Bur Gulliver was right, and he should have seen it for himself.

'I'll tell him.'

Gulliver strode to the compass, as if unable to contain his restlessness. 'Too good to last. I knew it.'

Bolitho beckoned to Midshipman Cowdroy who was temporarily sharing his watches until Jury was fully recovered.

'My respects to the captain. Tell him the wind is freshening from the nor'-east.

Cowdroy touched his hat and hurried to the companion.

Bolitho bit back his dislike. An arrogant, intolerant bully. He wondered how Rhodes put up with him.

Jury asked quietly, 'Are we in for a storm, sir?' 'Unlikely, I think, but it's best to be prepared.' He saw something glitter in Jury's hand and said, 'That is a fine looking watch.'

Jury held it out to him, his face filled with pleasure. 'It belonged to my father.'

Bolitho opened the guard carefully and saw inside a tiny but perfect portrait of a sea officer. Jury was already very like him.

It was a beautiful watch, made by one of the finest craftsmen in London.

He handed it Back and said, 'Take good care of it. It must be very valuable.'

Jury slipped it into his breeches pocket. 'It is worth a great deal to me. It is all own of my father.'

Something in his tone affected Bolitho deeply It made him feel clumsy, angry with himself for not seeing beyond Jury's eagerness to please him. He had no one else in the world who cared.

He said, 'Well, my lad, if you keep your wits about you on this voyage it will stand you in good stead later on.' He smiled. 'A few years ago who had even heard of James Cook, I wonder? Now he is the country's hero, and when he returns from his latest voyage, I've no doubt he'll be promoted yet again.'

Dumaresq's voice made him spin round. 'Do not excite the boy, Mr Bolitho. He will want my command in no time!'

Bolitho waited for Dumaresq's decision. You never knew where you were with him.

'We shall shorten sail presently, Mr Bolitho.' He rocked back on his heels and examined each sail in turn. 'We'll run while we can.'

As he disappeared through the companion, the master's mate of the watch called, 'The cutter is workin' free on the boat tier, sir.'

'Very well.' Bolitho sought out, Midshipman Cowdroy again. 'Take some hands and secure the cutter, if you please.' He. sensed the midshipman's resentment and knew the reason for it. He would be glad to be rid of him from his watch,

Jury' had guessed what was happening. 'I'll go, sir. It's what I should be doing.'

Cowdroy turned on him and snapped, 'You are unwell Mr Jury. Do not strain yourself on our behalf!' He swung away, shouting for a boatswain's mate.

Later, as true to Gulliver's prediction the wind continued to rise and the sea's face .changed to an angry array of white crests, Bolitho forgot about the rift he had created between the two midshipmen.

First one reef was taken in, then another, but as the ship staggered and dipped into a worsening sea, Dumaresq ordered all hands aloft to take in all but the main-topsail, so that Destiny could lie to and ride out the gale.

Then, to prove it could be gentle as well as perverse, the wind fell away, and when daylight returned the ship was soon drying and steaming in the warm sunshine.

Bolitho was exercising the starboard battery of twelve- pounders when Jury reported that he had been allowed to return to full duty and was no longer to bunk in the sick-bay.

Bolitho had a feeling that something was wrong, but was determined not to become involved.

He said, 'The captain intends that ours will be the smartest gun salute they have ever seen or heard in Rio.' He saw several of the bare-backed seamen grinning and rubbing their palms together. 'So we'll have a race. The first division against the second, with some wine for the winners.' He had already asked the purser's permission to grant an extra issue of wine.

Codd had thrust out his great upper teeth like the prow of a galley and had cheerfully agreed. 'If you pay, Mr Bolitho, if you pay!' Little called, 'All ready, sir.'

Bolitho turned to Jury. 'You can time them. The division to run out first, twice out of three tries, will take the prize.'

He knew the men were getting impatient, fingering the tackles and handspikes with as much zeal as if they were preparing to fight.

Jury tried to meet Bolitho's eyes. 'I have no watch, sir.' Bolitho stared at him, aware that the captain and Palliser were at the quarterdeck rail to see his men competing with each other.

'You've lost it? Your father's watch?' He could recall jury's pride and his sadness as he had shown it to him the previous evening. 'Tell me.'

Jury shook his head, his face wretched. 'It's gone, sir.

That's all I know.',

Bolitho rested his hand on Jury's shoulder. 'Easy now, I'll try to think of something.' Impetuously he tugged out his own watch, which had been given to him by his mother. 'Use mine.'

Stockdale, who was, crouching at one of the guns, had heard all of it, and had been watching the faces of the other men nearby. He had never owned a watch in his life, nor was he likely to, but somehow he knew this one was important. ' In a crowded world like the ship a thief was dangerous. Sailors were too poor to let such a crime go unpunished. It would be best if he was caught before something worse happened. For his own sake as much as anybody's.

Bolitho waved his arm. 'Run out!'

The second division of guns-won .easily. It was only to be expected, the losers said, as it contained both Little and Stockdale, the two strongest men in the ship.

But as they shared out their mugs of wine and relaxed beneath the shade of the main-course, Bolitho knew that for Jury at least the moment was spoiled.

He said to Little, 'Secure the guns.' He walked aft, some of his men' nodding at him as he passed.

Dumaresq waited for him to reach the quarterdeck. 'That was smartly done!'

Palliser smiled bleakly. 'If we must bribe our people with wine before they can handle the great guns, we shall soon be a dry ship!'

Bolitho blurted out, 'Mr Midshipman Jury's watch has been stolen.'

Dumaresq eyed him calmly, 'And so? What must I 80, Mr Bolitho?'

Bolitho flushed, I m sorry, sir. I - I thought ...'

Dumaresq shaded his eyes to watch a trio of small birds as they. dashed abeam, seemingly 'inches above the water. 'I can almost smell the land.' He turned abruptly to Bolitho again. 'It was reported to you. Deal with .it.'

Bolitho touched his hat as the captain and first lieutenant began to pace up and down the weather side of the deck:

He still had a lot to learn.

6 A Matter of Discipline

With all her canvas, except topsails and jib, clewed up, Destiny glided slowly across the blue' water of Rio's outer roadstead. It was oppressively hot with barely enough breeze to raise much more than a ripple beneath her beakhead, but Bolitho could sense the: expectancy and excitement around him as they made their way towards the protected anchorage.

Even the most experienced seaman aboard did not deny the impressive majesty of the landfall. They had watched it grow out of the morning mist, and it was now spread out on either beam as if to enfold them. Rio's great mountain was like nothing Bolitho had seen, dwarfing all else like a giant boulder. And beyond, interspersed with patches of lush green forest, were other ridges, steep and pointed like waves which had been turned to stone. Pale beaches, necklaces of surf, and nestling between hills and ocean the city itself. White houses, squat towers and nodding palms, it was a far cry from the English Channel.

To larboard. Bolitho saw the first walled battery, the Portuguese flag flapping only occasionally above it in the hard sunlight. Rio was well defended, with enough batteries to dampen the keenest of attackers.

Dumaresq was studying the town and the anchored vessels through his glass.

He said, 'Let her fall off a point.'

'West-nor'-west, sir!'

Palliser looked at his captain. 'Guard-boat approaching.'

Dumaresq smiled briefly, 'Wonders what the hell we are doing here , no doubt.'

Bolitho plucked his shirt away from his skin and envied the half naked seamen while the officers were made to swelter in their heavy dress-coats,

Mr Vallance, the gunner, was already checking his chosen crews to make sure nothing went wrong with his , salute to the flag,

Bolitho wondered how many unseen eyes were watching the slow approach of the English frigate. A man-of-war, what did she want? Was she here for peaceful purposes, or with news of another broken treaty in Europe?

'Begin the salute!'

Gun by gun the salute crashed out, the heavy air pressing the thick smoke on the water and blotting out the land.

The Portuguese guard-boat had turned in her own length, propelled by great sweeps, so that she looked like a giant water-beetle.

Somebody commented, 'The bugger's leadin' us in.' The last gun recoiled and the crews threw themselves on the tackles to sponge the smoking muzzles and secure each weapon as a final gesture of peaceful intentions.

A figure waved a flag from the guard-boat, and as the long sweeps rose dripping and still on either beam, Dumaresq remarked dryly, 'Not too close in, Mr Palliser. They're taking no chances with us!'

'Palliser raised his trumpet to his mouth. 'Lee braces there! Hands wear ship!'

Like parts of an intricate pattern the seamen and their petty officers ran to their stations.

'Tops'l sheets!' Palliser's voice roused the sea-birds from the water upon which they had only just alighted after the din of the salute. 'Tops'l clew-lines!'

Dumaresq said, 'So be it, Mr Palliser. Anchor.' 'Helm a'Iee!'

Destiny turned slowly into the wind, the way going off her as she responded to the helm.

'Let go/'

There was a splash from forward as the big anchor plummeted down, while strung out on the topsail yards the seamen deftly furled the sails as if each mast was 'controlled by one, invisible hand.

'Away gig's crew! Away quarter-boat!'

Bare feet stampeded across the hot decks while Destiny took the strain of her cable and then swung to the pull of the ocean.

Dumaresq thrust his hands. behind his back. 'Signal the guard-boat alongside, if you please. I shall have to go ashore and pay my respects to the Viceroy. It is best to get such ponderous matters over and done with.'

He nodded to Gulliver and his mates by the wheel. 'Well done.'

Gulliver searched the. captain's face as if expecting a trap.

Finding none, he replied thankfully, 'My first visit here as master, sir.'

Their eyes met. Had the collision, been any worse it would have been the .last time for both of them.

. Bolitho was kept busy with his own men and had little time to watch the Portuguese officers come aboard. They looked resplendent in their proud uniforms and showed no discomfort in the blistering heat. The town was almost hidden in mist and haze, which gave it: an added air of enchantment. Pale buildings, and craft with colourful sails and' a rig not unlike Arab traders which Bolitho had seen off the coast of Africa.

'Dismiss the watch below, Mr Bolitho.' Palliser's brisk voice caught him off guard. 'Then stand by with the marine escort to accompany the captain ashore.'

Bolitho ducked thankfully beneath the quarterdeck and made his way aft. In contrast with the upper deck it seemed almost cool.

In the gloom he all but collided with the surgeon as he clambered up from the main-deck. He seemed unusually agitated and said, 'I must see the captain. I fear the brigantine's master is dying.'

Bolitho went through the wardroom to his tiny cabin to collect his sword and his best hat for the journey ashore.

They had discovered little about the Heloise's master, other than he was a Dorset man named Jacob Triscott. As Bulkley had remarked previously, it was not much incentive to - stay alive when only the hangman's rope awaited him. Bolitho found that the news troubled him deeply. To kill a man in self-defense, and in the line of duty, was to be expected. But now the man who had tried to cut him down was dying, and the delay seemed unfair and without dignity.

Rhodes stamped into the wardroom behind him. 'I'm parched. With all these visitors aboard, I'll be worn out in no time.'

As Bolitho came out of his cabin Rhodes exclaimed, 'What is it?'

'The brigantine's master is dying.'

'I know.' He shrugged. 'Him or you. It's the only way to see it.' He added, 'Forget about it. The lord and master will be the one to get annoyed. He was banking on getting information from the wretch before he expired. One way or another.'

He followed Bolitho through the screen door and together they looked forward, to the waiting glare of the upper deck.

Rhodes asked, 'Any luck with young jury's watch?'

' Bolitho smiled grimly. 'The captain told me to deal with it .'

'He would.'

'I expect he's forgotten about it by now, but I must do something. Jury has had 'enough trouble already.'

Johns, the captain's personal coxswain, dressed in his best blue jacket with gilt buttons, strode past. He saw Bolitho and said, 'Gig's in the water, sir. You'd best be there, too.'

Rhodes clapped Bolitho on the shoulder. 'The lord and master would not take kindly to being kept waiting!'

As Bolitho was about to follow the coxswain, Rhodes said quietly, 'Look, Dick, if you'd like me to do something about that damned watch while you're ashore .. .'

Bolitho shook his head. 'No, but thank you. The thief is most likely from my division. To search every man and turn his possessions out on' the deck would destroy whatever trust and loyalty I've managed to build tip so far. I'll think of something.'

Rhodes said, 'I just hope young Jury has not merely mislaid the timepiece; a loss is one thing, a theft another.' They fell silent as they approached the starboard gangway where the side-party had fallen in to pay its respects to the captain.

But Dumaresq was standing with his thick legs apart, his head jutting forward as he shouted to the surgeon, 'No, sir, he shall not die! Not until I have the information!'

Bulkley spread his hands helplessly. 'But the man is going, sir. There is nothing more I can do.'

Dumaresq looked at the waiting gig and at the quarter-boat nearby with Colpoys' marine escort already crammed aboard. He was expected at the Viceroy's residence, and to delay might provoke bad feelings which he would certainly wish to avoid if he needed Portuguese co-operation.

He swung on Palliser. 'Dammit, you deal with it. Tell that rogue Triscott that if he will reveal the details of his mission and his original destination I shall send- a letter to his parish in Dorset. It will ensure that he is remembered as an honest man. Impress upon him what that will mean to his family and his friends.' He glared at Palliser's doubtful features. 'God damn it, Mr Palliser, think of something, will you?'

Palliser asked mildly, 'And if he spits in my face?'

'I'll hang him here and now, and see how his family like that!'

Bulkley stepped forward. 'Be easy, sir, the man is dying, he cannot hurt anyone.' .

'Go back to him and do as I say. That is an order.' He turned to Palliser. 'Tell Mr Timbrell to rig a halter to the main-yard. I'll run that bugger up to it, dying or nor, if he refuses to help!'

Palliser followed him to the entry port. 'It will be a signed declaration, sir.' He nodded slowly. 'I'll get a witness and have his words written down for you.' Dumaresq smiled tightly. 'Good man. See to it. 'He saw Bolitho and snapped, 'Into the gig with you. Now let us see this Viceroy, eh?'

Once clear of the side Dumaresq turned to study his ship, his eyes almost closed against the reflected glare.

'A fine surgeon is Bulkley, but a bit of an old woman at times. Anyone would think we are here for our health, instead of seeking a hidden fortune.'

Bolitho tried to relax, his buttocks burning on the sun-heated thwart as he attempted to sit as squarely as his captain.

The brief confidence led him to ask, 'Will there really be any treasure, sir?' He was careful to keep his voice low so that the stroke oarsman should not hear him.

Dumaresq tightened his fingers around his sword hilt. and stared at the land.

'It is somewhere that I do know. In what form it now is remains to be seen, but that is why we are here. Why we were in Madeira when I went to the house of a very old friend. But something immense is happening. Because of it my clerk was killed. Because of it the Heloise played the dangerous game of trying to follow us. And now poor Bulkley wants me to read a prayer for a rogue who may hold a vital clue. A man who nearly killed my young and sentimental third lieutenant.' He turned and regarded Bolitho curiously. 'Are you still in irons over Jury's watch?'

Bolitho swallowed. The captain had not forgotten after all.

'I am going to deal with the matter, sir. Just as soon as I can.'

'Hmmm. Don't make a drudgery of it. You are one of my

officers. If a crime is committed the culprit must be punished. Severely. These poor fellows have barely a coin between them. I'll not see them abused by some common thief, though God knows many of them began life like that!'

Dumaresq did not raise his voice nor look at his coxswain, but said, 'See what you can do, johns.'

It was all he said, but Bolitho sensed a powerful bond between the captain and his coxswain.

Dumaresq stared toward the landing-stairs. There were more uniforms and some horses. A carriage, too, probably to carry the visitors to the residency.

Dumaresq pouted and said, 'You can accompany me.

Good experience for you.' He chuckled. 'When the treasure ship Asturias broke off the engagement all those thirty years ago, it was later rumored she entered Rio, It was also suggested that the Portuguese authorities had a hand in what happened to the bullion.' He smiled broadly. 'So some of the people on that jetty are probably more worried than I at this moment.

The bowman raised his boat-hook as with oars tossed the gig moved against the landing-stairs with barely a quiver.

Dumaresq's smile had gone. 'Now let us get on with it. I 'want to get back as soon as possible and see how Mr Palliser's persuasion IS progressing.

At the top of the stairs a file of Colpoys' marines; their faces the colour of their coats in the blazing sunshine, snapped to attention. Opposite them, in white tunics with brilliant yellow trappings, was a guard of Portuguese soldiers.

Dumaresq shook' hands and bowed to several of the waiting dignitaries as greetings were formally exchanged and translated. A crowd of onlookers stood watching nearby, and Bolitho was struck by the number of black faces amongst them. Slaves or servants from the big estates and plantations. Brought thousands of miles to this place where, with luck, they might be bought by a kind master. If unlucky, they would not last very long.

Then Dumaresq climbed into the carriage with three of the Portuguese while others mounted their horses.

Colpoys sheathed his sword and' glared up at the Viceroy's residence on a lush hillside and complained, 'We shall have to march, dammit! I am a marine, not a bloody foot-soldier!'

By the time they reached the fine-looking building Bolitho was soaking with sweat. While the marines were led to the rear of the house by a servant, Bolitho and Colpoys were ushered into a high-ceilinged room with one side open to the sea and a garden of vivid blossoms and shady palms.

More servants, soft-footed and careful to keep their eyes averted from the two officers, brought chairs and wine, and above their heads a great fan began to sway back and forth.

Colpoys stretched out his legs and swallowed the WIne with relish.

'Sweet as a hymn in chapel!'

Bolitho smiled. The Portuguese officials, the military and traders lived well here. They would need something to sustain them against the heat and the risk of fever and death in a dozen forms. But the wealth of the growing empire was. said to be too vast to be assessed. Silver, precious stones, strange metals and miles of prospering sugar plantations, no wonder they needed an army of slaves to satisfy the demands from far-off Lisbon.

Colpoys put down his glass and got to his feet. In the time it had taken them to march up from the jetty to the residence, Dumaresq had apparently completed his business.

From his expression as he appeared through an arched doorway, Bolitho guessed he was far from satisfied.' Dumaresq said, 'We shall return to the ship.'

The farewells were completed at the residence this time, and Bolitho Degan to realize that the Viceroy was not in Rio, but would return as 'soon as he was told of Destiny's visit.

Dumaresq explained as much as he strode into the sunlight, touching his hat to die saluting guards as he went.

He growled in his resonant voice, 'That means he insists I wait for his return. I was not born yesterday, Bolitho. These people are our oldest allies, but some of them are not above a little piracy. Well, Viceroy or not, when Heloise catches up with us I shall weigh when I'm good and ready!'

To Colpoys he said, 'March your men back.' As the scarlet coats moved away in' a cloud of dust, Durnaresq climbed into the carriage. 'You come with me. When we reach the jetty I want you to take a message for me.' He pulled a small envelope from his coat. 'I had it ready. I always expect the worst. The coachman will carry you there, and I have no doubt the news of your visit will be all over the town within an hour.' He smiled grimly. 'But the Viceroy is not the only man with cunning.'

As they clattered past Colpoys and his sweating marines, Dumaresq said, 'Take a man with you.' He glanced at Bolitho's expectant face. 'A body-guard, if you like. I saw that prize-fighting fellow in the quarter-boat. Stockdale, that's his name? Take him.'

Bolitho marveled. How could Dumaresq contain so many things at once? Out there a man was dying, and Palliser's own life would not be worth much if he failed to obtain some information. There was someone in Rio who must be connected with the missing bullion, but not the one for whom he was carrying Dumaresq's letter. There was a ship, her people and the captured Heloise, and thousands of miles still lay ahead before they knew success or failure. For a post-captain of twenty-eight, Dumaresq certainly carried a great burden on his shoulders. It made Jury's missing watch seem almost trivial.

A tall, black-haired half-caste with a basket of fruit on her head paused to watch the carriage as it rolled past. Her bare shoulders were the colour of honey, and she gave a bold smile as she saw them watching her.

Dumaresq said, 'A fine looking girl. And a prouder pair of cat heads I never did see. It would be worth the risk of a painful payment later on just to relish her!'

Bolitho did not know what to say. He was used to the coarse comments of sailors, but from Dumaresq it seemed vulgar and demeaning.

Dumaresq waited for the carriage to stop. 'Be as fast as you can. I intend to take on fresh water tomorrow and there's a lot to be done before that.' He strode to the stairs and vanished into his gig.

Later, with Stockdale sitting opposite him and filling half the carriage, Bolitho directed his coachman to the address on the envelope.

Dumaresq had thought of everything. Bolitho or any other stranger might nave been stopped and questioned here. But the sight of the carriage with the Viceroy's insignia on either door was enough to gain access anywhere.

The house where the carriage eventually pulled to a halt was a low building surrounded by a thick wall. Bolitho imagined it was one of Rio's oldest houses, with the additional luxury of a large garden and a well-tended driveway to the entrance.

A Negro servant greeted Bolitho without a flicker of surprise and led him into a great circular entrance hall with some marble vases which contained flowers like those he had seen in the garden and several statues which stood in separate alcoves like amorous sentries.

Bolitho hesitated in the centre of the hall, uncertain of what to do next. Another servant passed, eyes fixed-on some distant object as he ignored the letter in Bolitho's hand.

Stockdale rumbled, 'I'll go an' stir their stumps for 'em, sir!' A door opened noiselessly, and Bolitho saw a slightly-built man in white breeches and a deeply frilled shirt watching him.

He asked, 'Are you from the ship?'

Bolitho stared. He was English, 'Er, yes, sir. I am Lieutenant Richard Bolitho of His Britannic ...'

The man came to meet him, his hand outstretched. 'I know the name of the ship, Lieutenant. All Rio knows it by now.'

He lead the way to a book-lined room and offered him a chair. As the door was closed by an unseen servant, Bolitho saw Stockdale standing massively where he had left him. Ready to protect him, to tear the house down brick by brick, he suspected.

'My name is Jonathan Egmont.' He smiled gently. 'That will mean nothing to you. You must be very young for your rank.'

Bolitho rested his hands on the arms of the chair. Heavy, well carved. Like the house, it had been here for a long time.

Another door opened and a servant waited for the, man named Egmont to notice him.

'Some wine, Lieutenant?'

Bolitho's mouth was like a kiln, He said, 'I would welcome a glass, sir.'

'Rest easy then, while I read what your captain has to tell me.'

Bolitho glanced around the room as Egmont walked to a desk and slit opened Dumaresq's letter with a gold stiletto. Shelf upon shelf of books, while on the floor were several rich-looking carpets. It was difficult to see very much because his eyes were still half blinded by the sun's glare, and anyway the windows were so heavily shaded that it was almost too dark to study his host. An intelligent face, he thought. A man about sixty, although he had heard that in such a climate men could age rapidly. It was hard to guess what he was doing here, or how Dumaresq had discovered him.

Egmont laid the letter carefully on the desk and looked across at Bolitho.

'Your captain has said nothing of this to you?' He saw Bolitho's expression and shook his head. 'No, of course he would not, and it was wrong of me to ask:'

Bolitho said, 'He wished me to bring the letter without delay. That is all I know.'

'I see.' For a few moments he looked .unsure, even apprehensive. Then he said, 'I shall do what I can. It will take time, of course, but with the Viceroy away from his residence I have no doubt your captain will wish to remain for a while.'

Bolitho opened his mouth and then shut it as the door swung inwards and a woman entered the room carrying astray.

He got to his feet, very conscious of his crumpled shirt, of his hair plastered to his forehead by the sweat of the journey .. Set against what he was certain was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen, he felt like a vagrant.

She was dressed all in white, the waist of her gown nipped in with a thin golden belt. Her hair was jet black like his own, and although held in check by a ribbon at the nape of her neck, was arranged to fall on her shoulders, the skin of which looked like silk.

She glanced at him and then studied him from top to toe, her head slightly on one side.

Egmont was also on his feet and said stiffly, 'This is my wife, Lieutenant.'

Bolitho bowed. 'I am honoured, ma'am.' He did not know what to say. She made him feel clumsy and unable to form his words, and all without saying anything to him.

She placed the tray on a table and raised her hand towards him.

'You ate welcome here, Lieutenant. You may kiss my hand.'

Bolitho took it, feeling her softness, her perfume which made his head spin.

Her shoulders were bare, and despite the darkened room he saw that she had violet-coloured eyes. She was beautiful and more.* Even her voice as she had offered her hand to him was exciting. How could she be his wife? She must be many years younger. Spanish or Portuguese, certainly not English.

Bolitho would not have cared if she had just stepped from the moon.

He stammered, 'Richard Bolitho, ma'am.

She stood back and put her fingers to her mouth. Then she laughed. 'Bo-li-tho! I think it will be easier for me to call you Lieutenant.' She swung her gown across the floor, her eyes moving to her husband. 'Later, I think I may call you Richard.'

Egmont said, 'I will write a letter for you to take with you, Lieutenant.' He seemed to be looking past, even through her. As if she was not there. 'I will do what I can.'

She turned to Bolitho again. 'Please call on us while you are in, Rio. Our house is yours.' She gave a slow curtsy, her eyes on his face" until she said softly, 'I -have enjoyed our meeting.' Then she was gone, and Bolitho sat down in the chair as if his legs had. broken under him .

Egmont said, 'I shall De a few moments. Enjoy the wine while I put pen to paper.'

Eventually it was done,' and as he sealed the envelope with scarlet wax Egmont remarked distantly, 'Memory has a long reach. I have been here for many years and have rarely strayed but for the needs of my business. Then one day there comes a King's ship, commanded by the son of a man once dear to me, and now everything is changed;' He stopped abruptly and then said, 'But you will be in a hurry to return to your duties.' He held out the letter. 'I Did you good day.'

Stockdale eyed him curiously as he left the book-lined room. 'All done, sir?'

Bolitho paused as another door opened and he saw her standing there, her gown making-her look like another perfect statue against the dark room beyond. She did not speak, or even smile, but just looked at him, directly, as if, Bolitho thought, she was already committing herself to something. Then her hand moved and stayed momentarily at her breast, and Bolitho felt his heart pounding as if trying to join hers in her hand.

'The door closed, and he could almost believe he' had "imagined it or that the Wine had been too strong.

He glanced at Stockdale and saw the look on his bartered face and knew it was no lie.

'We had better get back to the ship, Stockdale.'

Stockdale followed him towards the sunlight. Not a bit too soon, he, thought.

It was dusk by the time the boat from the landing stairs made fast to the main-chains. Bolitho climbed up to and through the entry port thinking of the beautiful woman in the white gown.

Rhodes was waiting with the side-party and whispered quickly, 'The first lieutenant is looking for you, Dick.'

'Lay aft, Mr Bolitho!' Palliser's brusque tomes silenced Rhodes before he could 'say more.

Bolitho climbed to the quarterdeck and touched his hat. 'Sir?'

Palliser snapped, 'I have been waiting for you!'

'Yes, sir. But the captain ordered me Oft an errand.' 'And a fine time it has taken you!'

Bolitho controlled his sudden anger with an effort. Whatever he did or tried to do, Palliser was never satisfied.

He said quietly, 'Well, sir, I am here now.'

Palliser peered at him as if to seek out some kind of insolence.

Then he said, 'During your absence ashore, the master-at- arms, who was acting upon my orders, searched some of the people's messes.' He waited for Bolitho to react. 'I do not know what kind of discipline you are trying to instill into your division, bur let me assure you it will take a lot more than a bribe of spirits and wine to achieve it! Mr jury's watch was found in the possession of one of your maintopmen , Murray, so what say you?'

Bolitho stared at him incredulously. Murray had saved Jury's life. But for his swift action on the Heloise's deck that night, the midshipman would be dead. And if Jury had not thrown the sword to replace Bolitho's lost hanger, he too would be a corpse. It had been their bond, of which none of them had spoken.

He protested, 'Murray is a good hand, sir. I cannot see him as a thief.'

'I'm certain of that. But you have a lot to learn, Mr Bolitho. Men like Murray would not dream of thieving from a messmate, but an officer, even a lowly midshipman, is fair game.' He controlled his voice with an obvious effort. 'But that is not the worst part. Mr Jury had the impertinence, the monstrous audacity, to tell me he had given the watch to Murray as a gift! Can you, even you, Mr Bolitho, believe it?'

'I can believe he said it to save Murray, sir. He was wrong, but I can well understand.'

'Just as I thought.' He leaned forward. 'I will See that Mr Jury is put ashore for passage to England the moment we are in company with some higher authority, and what do you think of that?'

Bolitho said hotly, 'I think you are acting unfairly!'

He could feel his anger giving way to despair. Palliser had tried to provoke him, but this time it had got suddenly out of hand.

He said, 'If you are trying to discredit me through Mr Jury, then you are succeeding. But even to contemplate it, knowing he has no family, and that he will give his very soul to the Navy, is damnable! And if! were you, sir, I'd be sick with shame!'

Palliser stared at him as if he had been struck. 'You what!' A small figure bobbed from the shadows. It was Macmillan, the captain's servant.

He said, 'Beg pardon, gentlemen, but the cap'n would like you in 'is cabin at once.'

He shrank back as if expecting to be knocked senseless. Dumaresq was standing in the centre of the day-cabin, legs apart, hands on hips, as he glared at his two lieutenants.

'I'll not have you brawling on my quarterdeck like a pair of louts! What in hell's name has got into you?'

Palliser looked shocked, even pale, as he said, 'If you had heard what Mr Bolitho said, sir ... '

'Heard? Heard?' Dumaresq jabbed one fist towards the skylight. 'I'd have thought the whole ship heard well enough!'

He looked at Bolitho. 'How dare you show insubordination to the first lieutenant. You will obey him without question. Discipline is paramount if we are not to become a shambles. I expect, no, I demand that the ship is at all times ready to act as I dictate. To bicker over some petty matter within earshot' of anyone present-is a madness, and I'll not tolerate it!' He examined Bolitho's face and added in a calmer tone, 'It must not happen again.'

Palliser tried again. 'I was telling him, sir .. .' He fell silent as the compelling eyes turned on him like lamps.

'You are my first lieutenant, and I shall uphold-what you do under my command. But I will not have you using your temper on those too junior to hit back. You are an experienced and skilled officer, whereas Mr Bolitho is new to the wardroom. As for Mr Jury, he knows nothing of the sea but that which he has learned since we left Plymouth; would you say that is a fair assessment?'

Palliser swallowed hard, his head bowed beneath the beams as if he was in prayer.

'Yes, sir.'

'Good. That is something we agree upon.'

Dumaresq walked to the stern windows and stared at the reflected lights on the water.

'Mr Palliser, you will pursue the matter of the theft. I do not wish a useful hand like Murray punished if he is innocent. On the other side of the coin, I'll not 'see him evade it if he is guilty The whole ship knows what has happened. If he walks free from this because of our inability to discover the truth, there will be no controlling the real trouble-makers and sea-lawyers amongst us.' He held out his hand to Bolitho. 'You have a letter for me, I expect.' As he took it he added slowly, 'Deal with Mr Jury. It is up to you I'0 treat him fairly but severely. It will be as much a test for you as it is for him.' He nodded. 'Dismiss.'

As Bolitho dosed the door behind him he heard Dumaresq say, 'That was a fine statement you took from Triscott. It makes up for the earlier set-back.'

Palliser mumbled something and Dumaresq replied, 'One more piece and the puzzle may be solved more quickly than I thought.'

Bolitho moved away, conscious of the sentry's eyes as they followed him into the shadows. He entered the wardroom and sat down carefully, like a man who has just fallen from a horse.

Poad said, 'Somethin' to drink, sir?'

Bolitho nodded, although he had barely heard. He saw Bulkley seated against one of the ship's great timbers and asked, 'Is the Heloise's master dead?'

Bulkley looked up wearily and waited for his eyes to focus. 'Aye. He passed away within minutes of putting his name to the statement.' The surgeon's voice was very slurred. 'I hope it was worth it.'

Colpoys came from his cabin and threw one elegant, white-clad leg over a stool.

'I am growing sick of this place. Anchored right out here.

Nothing to do ... ' He looked from Bolitho to Bulkley and said wryly, 'I was wrong it seems. Here we have gaiety a-plenty!'

Bulkley sighed. 'I heard most of it. Triscott was making the one voyage as master. It seems he was ordered to join us at Funchal and determine what we were about.' He accidentally knocked over a goblet of brandy but did not appear to notice as the spirit ran over his legs. 'Having seen us on our way, he was supposed to head for the Caribbean and hand over the vessel to her new owner, the one who had paid for her to be built.' He coughed and dabbed his chin with a red handkerchief. "Stead o' that, he got too nosey and tried to follow us.' He peered vaguely aft as if to seek Dumaresq through the bulkhead. 'Imagine that? The mouse hunting the tiger! Well, now he's paid for it in full.'

Colpoys asked impatiently, 'Well then, who is this mysterious buyer of brigantines?'

Bulkley turned towards the marine, as if it hurt him to move. 'I thought you were cleverer than that. Sir Piers Garrick, 0' course! One-time privateer in the King's name and a damned pirate in his own!'

Rhodes entered the wardroom and said, 'I heard that. I suppose we should have known, as the lord and master was' so careful to mention him. All those years ago. He must be over sixty now. And d'you really believe he still knows what happened to the Asturia's bullion?'

Colpoys said wearily, 'The sawbones has dozed off, Stephen.'

Poad, who had been hovering close by, said, 'Fresh pork tonight, gentlemen. Sent off shore with the compliments of a Mr Egmont.' He waited for just the right moment. 'The boatman said it was to mark Mr Bolitho's visit to 'is 'ouse.

Bolitho flushed as they all stared at him.

Colpoys shook his head sadly. 'My God, we've only just arrived here and I see a woman's hand in all this.'

Rhodes took him aside as Gulliver joined Colpoys and the purser at the table ..

'Was he hard on you, Dick?'

'I lost my temper.' Bolitho smiled ruefully. 'I think we all did.'

'Good. Stand up to him. Don't forget what I said.' He made sure nobody else was listening. 'I've told Jury to wait for you in the chartroom. You'll be uninterrupted there for a while. Get it over with. I've been through all this myself.' He sniffed and exclaimed, 'I can smell that pork, Dick. You must have influence.'

Bolitho made his way forward to the small chartroom which was just beside the main companion. He saw Jury standing by the empty table, probably seeing his career wiped away like Gulliver's calculations.

Bolitho said, 'I was told what you did. Murray's case will be investigated, the captain has given his word. You will not be put ashore when we join the nearest squadron.

You are staying in Destiny.' He heard Jury's quick intake of breath and said, 'So it's up to you now.' .

'I - I don't know what to say, sir.'

Bolitho could feel his determination crumbling. He had once been like Jury, and knew what it was like to face apparent disaster.

He made himself say, 'You did wrong. You told a lie to protect a man who may well be guilty.' He silenced jury's attempted protest. 'It was not your place to act for one in a way you might not have acted for another. I was equally at fault. In was to be asked if I would have cared as much if Murray had been one of the bad apples in the barrel, or had you been like one of the other midshipmen, I should have had to admit to being biased.'

Jury said tightly, 'I am sorry for the trouble I have caused.

Especially to you.'

Bolitho faced him for the first time, seeing the pain in his eyes.

'I know. We have both learned something from all this.' He hardened his tone. 'If not, we are neither of us fit to wear the King's coat. Carryon to your berth, if you please.'

He heard Jury leave the chartroom and waited for several minutes to recover his composure.

He had acted correctly, even if he had been late. In future Jury would be on his guard and less willing to depend on others. Hero-worship, the captain had termed it.

Bolitho sighed and walked to the wardroom. Rhodes looked up at him as he opened the door, his eyes questioning.

Bolitho shrugged. 'It was not easy.'

'It never is.' Rhodes grinned and twitched his nose again. 'It will be a delayed dinner because of the pork's late arrival in our midst, but I feel the waiting will put a worthwhile edge to the appetite!'

Bolitho took a goblet of wine from Poad and sat in a chair. It was better to be like Rhodes, he thought. Live for today, with no care for the next horizon and what it might bring. That way, you never got hurt. He thought of jury's dismayed features and knew otherwise.

7 Divided Loyalties

Two more days passed with no sign that the Portuguese Viceroy had returned, or, if he had, that he intended to receive Dumaresq.

Sweltering under a blazing sun, the seamen went about their work with little enthusiasm. Tempers flared, and on several occasions men were taken aft to be awarded punishment.

And as the bell chimed each passing watch, Dumaresq, whenever he appeared on the quarterdeck, seemed to be growing more intolerant and angry. A seaman was given extra work merely for staring at him, and Midshipman Ingrave, who had been acting as his clerk, was sent back to his normal shipboard duties with 'Too stupid to hold a pen!' still ringing in his unhappy ears.

Even Bolitho, who had little experience of the politics used in foreign ports, was aware of Destiny's enforced isolation. A few hopeful craft hovered near the ship with local wares for barter, but were openly discouraged by the vigilant guard-boat. And there had certainly been no message sent by the man called Egmont.

Samuel Codd, the purser, had gone aft to complain about his inability to preserve his supply of fresh fruit, and half of the ship must have heard Dumaresq's fury break over 'him like a tidal wave.

'What do you take me for, you miser? D'you think I have nothing to do but buy and sell like a common tinker? Take a boat and get ashore yourself, and this time tell the

merchant the stores are for me!' His powerful voice had pursued Codd from the cabin. 'And don't return empty handed!'

In the wardroom the atmosphere was little changed. The usual grumbles and exaggerated yarns about what had happened during the daily routine. Only when Palliser appeared did the climate become formal, even strained.

Bolitho had seen Murray and had confronted him with the accusation of theft. Murray had firmly denied any part of it, and had pleaded with Bolitho to speak on his behalf. Bolitho was deeply impressed by the man's sincerity. Murray was more resentful at the prospect of an unjust flogging than fearful. But that would come unless something could be proved.

Poynter, the master-at-arms, was adamant. He had discovered the watch in Murray's ditty-box during a quick search of several messes. Anybody could have put it there, but what was the point? It was .obvious that something would be done to discover the missing watch. A careful thief would have hidden it in one of a hundred secret places. It did not make 'any sense.

On the evening of the second day the brigantine Heloise was sighted heading for the land, her sails shining in the dying sunlight as she completed a leisurely tack for the final approach:

Dumaresq watched her with his telescope and 'was heard. to mutter, 'Taking his damn time. He'll have to do better if he wants promotion!'

Rhodes said, 'Have you noticed, Dick? The freshwater lighters have not been sent out to us as promised? Our stocks must be running low. No wonder the lord and master grows pink with anger.'

Bolitho recalled what Dumaresq had told him. That Destiny was to take on water the day after anchoring. He had forgotten, with so much else to occupy his thoughts.

'Mr Rhodes!' Dumaresq strode to the quarterdeck rail. 'Signal Heloise to anchor in the outer roadstead. Mr Slade'll not likely attempt an entrance in the dark, but just to be sure, send a boat with my instructions to moor clear of the headland.'

The trill of calls brought the boat's crew running aft.

There were several groans when they saw how far the brigantine was standing from the land. A long, hard pull in two directions.

Rhodes sought out the midshipman of the watch. 'Mr Lovelace, go with the boat.' He kept his face straight as he looked at Bolitho. 'Damned midshipmen, eh, Dick? Must keep 'em busy!'

'Mr Bolitho!' Dumaresq was watching him. 'Come here, if you please.'

Bolitho hurried aft until they were both at the taffrail, well out of earshot of everyone.

'I have to tell you that Mr Palliser is unable to discover any other culprit.' He watched Bolitho closely. 'That troubles you, I see.'

'Yes, sir. I have no proof either, but I am convinced Murray is innocent.'

'I'll wait until we are at sea. Then punishment will be carried out. It does no good to flog men before the eyes of foreigners. '

Bolitho waited, knowing there was more to come. Dumaresq shaded his eyes to stare up at the masthead pendant. 'A fair breeze.' Then he said, 'I shall need another clerk. There is more writing and copying in a man-of-war than powder and shot.' His tone hardened. 'Or fresh water, for that matter!'

Bolitho stiffened as Palliser came aft and then paused as if at an invisible line.

Dumaresq said, 'We are done. What is it, Mr Palliser?' 'Boat approaching, sir.' He did not look at Bolitho. 'It is the same one which brought the pork for cabin and wardroom.'

Dumaresq's brows lifted. 'Really? That interests me.' He turned on *his heel, then said, 'I shall be in my quarters. And on the matter of my clerk, I have decided to put the surgeon's new helper, Spillane, to the task. He seems educated and well-disposed to his betters, and I'll not spoil the good surgeon by overloading him with aid. He has enough loblolly boys to run his sick-bay.'

Palliser touched his hat. 'So be it, sir.'

Bolitho walked to the larboard gangway to watch the approaching boat. Without a glass he could see no one aboard he recognized. He felt like mocking himself for his stupidity. What had he expected? That the man, Jonathan Egmont , would be coming out to see the captain? Or that his lovely wife would take the fatiguing and uncomfortable journey just to wave to him? He was being ridiculous, childish. Perhaps he had been at sea too long, or his last visit to Falmouth which had brought so much unhappiness had left him open to fantasy and impossible dreams?

The boat came to the main chains, and after a great deal of sign language between the oarsmen and a boatswain's mate an envelope was passed up to Rhodes and then carried aft to the cabin. .

The boat waited, idling a few yards from the frigate's hull, the olive-skinned oarsmen watching the busy sailors and marines and probably assessing the strength of Destiny's broadside.

Eventually Rhodes returned to the entry port and handed another envelope down to the boat's coxswain. He saw Bolitho watching and crossed to join him by the hammock nettings.

'I know you will be sorry to hear this, Dick.' He could not prevent his mouth from quivering. 'But we are invited ashore to. dine tonight I believe you know the house already?'

'Who will be going?' Bolitho tried to control his sudden anxiety.

Rhodes grinned. 'The lord and master, all of his lieutenants, and, out of courtesy, the surgeon.'

Bolitho exclaimed, 'I cannot believe it! Surely the captain would never leave his ship without at least one lieutenant aboard?' He looked round as Dumaresq appeared on deck. 'Would he?'

Dumaresq shouted, 'Fetch Macmillan and my new clerk, Spillane!' He sounded different, almost jubilant. 'I shall require my gig in half an hour!' .

Rhodes hurried away as Dumaresq added loudly, 'I want you and Mr Bolitho and our gallant redcoat ready and presentable at that time!' He smiled. 'The surgeon, too.' He strode away as his servant scurried in his wake like a terrier.

Bolitho looked at his hands. They appeared steady enough, and yet, like his heart, they seemed to be out of control.

In the wardroom there was complete confusion as Poad and his assistants tried to produce clean shirts, pressed uniform coats and generally attempted to transform their charges from sea officers into gentlemen.

Colpoys had his own orderly and was cursing like a trooper as the man struggled with his gleaming boots while he examined himself in a hand-mirror.

Bulkley, as owl-like and crumpled as ever, muttered, 'He's only taking me because of the wrong he did. in my sick-bay!'

Palliser snapped, 'For God's sake! He probably doesn't trust you alone in the ship!'

Gulliver was obviously delighted to be left aboard in temporary command. After the long passage from Funchal he had seemingly gathered more confidence, and anyway he hated 'the ways of the quality', as he had once confided to Codd.

Bolitho was the first at the entry port. He saw Jury taking over the watch on the quarterdeck, their eyes met and then moved on. It would all be different once the ship was at sea again. Working together would drive away the differences, except that there was still Murray's fate to be considered.

Dumaresq came on deck and inspected his officers. 'Good. Quite good.'

He looked down at his gig alongside, at the oarsmen in their best checked shirts and tarred hats, with his coxswain ready and waiting.

'Well done, Johns.'

Bolitho thought of the other time he had gone ashore ..here with Dumaresq. How he had casually asked Johns to look into the matter of Jury's missing watch. Johns, as captain's coxswain, was held in great respect by the petty officers and senior hands. A word in the right place, and a hint to the master-at-arms, who never needed much encouragement when it came to harrying the people, and a swift search had done the rest.

'Into the boat.'

In strict order of seniority , and watched from the gangway by several of the off-duty seamen, Destiny's officers descended into the gig.

Last of all, resplendent in his gold-laced coat with the white lapels, Dumaresq took his .place in the stern-sheets.

As the boat moved carefully away from the frigate's hull, Rhodes said, 'May I say, sir, how grateful we are to be invited?'

Dumaresq's teeth showed very white in the gloom. 'I asked all my-officers to join me, Mr Rhodes, because we are of one company.' His grin broadened. 'Also, it suits my purpose for the folk ashore to know we are all present.'

Rhodes answered lamely, 'I see, sir.' Clearly he did not. In spite of his earlier misgivings and worries, Bolitho settled down and watched the lights on the land. He was going to en joy himself. In a foreign, exotic country which he would remember and describe in detail when he returned to Falmouth.

No other thought would interfere with this evening. Then he recalled the way she had looked at him when he had left the house, and felt his resolve giving way. It was absurd, he told himself, but with that glance she had made him feel like a man.

Bolitho stared along the loaded table and wondered how he would manage to do justice to so many glistening dishes. He was already wishing he had heeded Palliser's curt advice as they had climbed ashore from the gig. 'They'll try to make you drunk, so take care!' And that had been nearly two hours ago. It did not seem possible.

The room was large with a curved ceiling and hung around with colourful tapestries, the whole made even more impressive by hundreds of candles, glittering chandeliers at regular intervals overhead, while along the table's length were some candelabra which must be solid gold, Bolitho thought.

The Destiny's officers had been carefully seated, and made patches of blue and white, separated by the richer clothing of the other guests. They were all Portuguese, most of whom spoke little English and shouted at one another to demand an instant translation or a means of making a point clear to the visitors. The commandant of the shore batteries, a great hogshead of a man, was matched only by Dumaresq in voice and appetite. Occasionally he would lean towards one of the ladies and bellow with laughter, or thump the table with his fist to emphasize his remarks.

A parade of servants came and went, ushering an endless procession of dishes, which ranged from succulent fish to steaming platters of beef. And all the time the wine continued to flow. Wine from their homeland or from Spain, sharp-tasting German hocks and mellow bottles from France. Egmont was certainly generous, and Bolitho had the impression that he was drinking little as he watched over his guests with an attentive smile on his lips.

It was almost too painful to look at Egmont's wife at the opposite end of the table. She had nodded to Bolitho when he had arrived, but little else. And now, squashed between a Portuguese ship-chandler and a wrinkled lady who never seemed to stop eating, even to draw breath, Bolitho felt ignored and lost.

But just to look at her was breathtaking. Again she was dressed in white, against which her skin seemed golden by contrast. The gown was cut very low across her breasts, and around her neck she wore a double-headed Aztec bird with trailing tail feathers, which Rhodes had knowledgeably identified as rubies.

As she turned her head to speak with her guests the ruby tails danced between her breasts, and Bolitho swallowed another glass of claret without realizing what he had done.

Colpoys was already half drunk and was describing in some length to his lady companion how he had once been caught in a woman's chamber by her husband.

Palliser on the other: hand seemed unchanged, eating steadily but sparingly, and careful to keep his glass always half filled. Rhodes was less sure of himself now, his voice thicker, his gestures more vague than when the meal had begun. The surgeon held his food and drink very well, but was sweating badly as he tried to listen to the halting English of a Portuguese official and answer a question from the man's wife at the same time.

Dumaresq was incredible. He turned nothing away and yet seemed completely at ease, his resonant voice reaching along the table to keep a lagging conversation alive or, to arouse one of his worse for wear officers.

Bolitho's elbow slipped from the table and he almost fell forward amongst the decimated dishes. The shock helped to steady him, to realize just how badly the drink had taken effect. Never again. Never, never again.

He heard Egmont announce, 'I think, gentlemen, if the ladies are about to withdraw, we should transfer to a cooler room.

Somehow Bolitho managed to get to his feet in time to assist the wrinkled lady from her chair. She was still chewing as she followed the others through a door to leave the men at their ease.

A servant opened another door and waited for Egmont to lead his guests into a room which looked out over the sea. Thankfully, Bolitho walked on to the terrace and leaned on a stone balustrade. After the heat of the candles and the power of the wine the air was like water from a mountain stream.

He looked at the moon and then across the anchorage where the lights from Destiny's open gun-ports glittered on the water as if the ship was burning.

The surgeon joined him by the balustrade and said heavily, 'That was a meal of substance, my boy!' He belched. 'Enough to feed a village for a month. Just imagine it. All that way from France or Spain, no expense spared. When you consider some people are lucky to get a loaf of bread, ,it makes you wonder.'

Bolitho looked .at him. He had' thought about it, although not from the point of injustice.' How could a man. like Egmont, a stranger in this foreign land, make so much wealth? Enough to obtain anything he wanted, even a beautiful wife who must be half his age. The double-headed bird about her throat was gold, a fortune in its own right. Was that part of the Asturias's treasure? Egmont had known Dumaresq's father, but had obviously never met his son before. They had barely spoken, when you thought about it, and when they had it seemed to be through one of the others, light and trivial. Bulkley leaned forward and adjusted his spectacles. 'There's a work-hungry master, eh? Can't wait for the morning tide.'

Bolitho turned and looked at the anchorage. His practiced eye soon discovered the moving vessel, in spite of the queasiness in his stomach.

A vessel under way, her sails making a Hitting shadow against the riding lights of other anchored craft as she headed out into the roadstead.

Bulkley said vaguely, 'Local man, must be. Any stranger'd go aground here.'

Palliser called from the open doorway. 'Come in and join us.'

Bulkley chuckled. 'Always a generous fellow when it's someone else's cellar!'

'But Bolitho remained where he was. There was enough noise coming from the room anyway, laughter and the clink of glasses, and Colpoys' voice rising higher and higher above the rest. Bolitho knew his absence would not be noticed.

He walked along the moonlit terrace, letting the sea air cool his face.

As he passed another room he heard Dumaresq's voice, very close and very insistent.

'I did not come all this way to be fobbed off with excuses, Egmont. You were in it up to the neck right from the beginning. My father said as much before he died.' The contempt in his voice was like a whip. 'My father's "gallant" first lieutenant who held off when he was sorely needed!'

Bolitho knew he should draw back, but he could not move. The tone of Dumaresq's voice seemed to chill his spine. It was something which had been pent-up for years and now could not be restrained.

Egmont protested lightly, 'I did not know. You must believe me. I was fond of your father. I served him well, and always admired him.'

Dumaresq's voice was muffled. He must have turned away with impatience, as Bolitho had seen him. do often enough aboard ship.

'Well, my father, whom you so much admired, died a pauper. But then, what could you expect for a discarded sea-captain with one arm and one leg, eh? But he kept your secret, Egmont, he at least understood the meaning of loyalty! This could be the end of everything for you.'

'Are you threatening me, sir?' In my own home? The Viceroy respects me, and will soon have something to say if I choose to complain!'

'Really?' Dumaresq sounded dangerously calm. 'Piers Garrick was a pirate, of gentle birth maybe, but a bloody pirate for all his manners. If the truth had leaked out about the Asturias, even his letter of marque would not have saved his neck. The treasure ship put up a good fight, and Garrick's privateer was severely damaged. Then the Don struck his colours, probably did not realize that Garrick's hull was so badly shot through. That was the worst thing he ever did in his life.'

Bolitho waited, holding his breath, fearful that the sudden silence meant they had somehow discovered his presence.

Then Dumaresq added quietly, 'Garrick scuttled his own command and took control of the Asturias. He probably butchered most of the Spaniards, or left them to rot somewhere where they could not be found. It was all made so simple for him. He sailed the treasure ship into this port on some excuse or other. England and Spain were at war, Asturias would be allowed to remain here for a short while, outwardly to effect repairs, but really to prove she was afloat after Garrick's alleged encounter with her.'

Egmont said shakily, 'That is surmise.'

'Is it? Let me continue, and then you shall decide if you intend to call for the Viceroy's* aid.'

His voice was so scathing that Bolitho could almost feel pity for Egmomt.

Dumaresq continued, 'A certain English ship was sent to investigate the loss of Garrick's vessel and the escape of the treasure which should rightfully have been a King's prize. That ship was commanded by my father. You, as his senior, were sent to take a statement from Garrick, who must have realized that without your connivance he was for the gallows. But his name was cleared, and while he gathered up his 'gold from where he had hidden it after destroying the Asturias, you resigned from the Navy, and quite mysteriously rose to the surface right here in Rio where it all began. But this time you were a rich man, a very rich man. My father, on the other hand, continued to serve. Then in '62, when he was with' Rear-Admiral Rodney at Martinique, driving the French from their Caribbean islands, he was cruelly wounded, broken' for life. There is a moral in that, surely?'

'What do you want me to do?'

He sounded dazed, stunned by the completeness of Dumaresq's victory.

'I shall require a sworn testimony to confirm what I have just said. I intend to enlist the Viceroy's aid if need be, and a warrant will then be sent from England. The rest you can well imagine for yourself, With your statement and the power invested in me by His Majesty and their lordships, I intend to arrest Sir Piers Garrick and take him to England for trial. I want that bullion, or what is left of it, but most of all I want him!'

'But why do you treat me like this? I had no part in what happened to your father at Martinique. I was not then in the Navy, you know that yourself!'

'Piers Garrick was supplying weapons and military stores to the French garrisons at Martinique and Guadeloupe. But for him my father might have been spared, and but for you, Garrick would not have had the chance to betray his country a second time!'

'I - I must have time to think, to ...'

'It has all run out, Egmont. All thirty years of it. I require to know Garrick's whereabouts and what he is doing. Anything you can tell me about the bullion, anything. If! am satisfied, I will sail from here and you shall not see me again. If not ...' He left the rest unsaid.

Egmont said, 'Can I trust you?'

'My father trusted you.' Dumaresq gave a short laugh. 'Choose.'

Bolitho pressed his shoulders against the wall and stared up at the stars. Dumaresq's energy was not merely inspired by duty and an eagerness for action. Hate had kept him sifting vague information, hate had made him hunt down the key which would unlock the mystery surrounding Garrick's rise to power; No wonder the Admiralty had selected Dumaresq for the task. The added spur of revenge would put him leagues ahead of any other captain.

A door banged open and Bolitho heard Rhodes singing and then protesting as he was dragged bodily back into the room.

He walked slowly along the terrace, his mind reeling from what he had heard. The enormity of the secret was unsettling. How could he go about his duties without giving away what he had discovered? Dumaresq would see through him in seconds.

He was suddenly completely sober, the dullness gone from his mind like a sea mist.

What would become of her if Dumaresq carried out his threat?

He swung angrily on his heel and made his way towards the open doors. When -he entered he realized that some of the guests had already gone, and the commandant of the batteries was bowing almost to the floor as he swept his hat across his corpulent belly.

Egmont was there with his wife, his face pale but otherwise impassive.

Dumaresq too seemed as before, nodding to the departing Portuguese, kissing the gloved hand of the chandler's lady. It was like seeing two different people from the Ones he had overheard just a few rooms away.

Dumaresq said, 'I think my officers are unanimous in. their delight at your table, Mr Egmont.'

His glance settled on Bolitho for a second. No more, but Bolitho sen'sed the question as if it had been shouted aloud. 'I hope we can repay your kindness. But duty is duty, as you will know from experience.'

Bolitho glanced round, but nobody had noticed the sudden tension between Egmont and the captain.

Egmont turned away and said, 'We will say good-night, gentlemen. '

His wife came forward, her eyes in shadow as she held our her hand to Dumaresq.

'It is good-morning now, no?'

He smiled and kissed her hand. 'You are a delight to see at any hour, ma'am.'

His gaze lingered on her bared bosom, and Bolitho flushed as he recalled what Dumaresq had said about the girl who had watched their carriage.

She smiled at the captain, her eyes clear now in the candlelight. 'Then I think you have seen enough for one day, sir!'

Dumaresq laughed and took his hat from a servant while the others made their farewells.

Rhodes was carried bodily from the house and laid in a waiting carriage, a blissful smile on his face.

Palliser muttered, 'Damned disgrace!'

Colpoys, whose pride was the only thing which prevented his collapsing like Rhodes, exclaimed thickly, 'A fine night, ma'am.' He bowed and almost fell over.

Egrnont said tersely, 'I think you had better go inside, Aurora, it grows damp and chill.'

Bolitho stared at her. Aurora. What an exquisite name.

He retrieved his hat and made to follow .the others.

'Well now, Lieutenant, have you nothing to say to me?' She looked at him as she had the first time, her head slightly on one side. He saw it in her eyes, the dare, the challenge.

'I am sorry, ma'am.'

She held out her hand. 'You must not apologize so often. I wish we had had more time to speak. But there were so many.' She tossed her head and the ruby tails flashed on her bosom. 'I hope you were not too bored?'

Bolitho realized that she had removed her long white glove before she offered her hand.

He held her fingers and said, 'I was not bored. I was in despair. There is a difference.'

She withdrew her hand, and Bolitho thought he had ruined everything by his clumsiness.

But she was looking at her husband who was listening to Bulkley's parting words. Then she said softly, 'We cannot have you in despair, Lieutenant, now can we?' She looked at him steadily, her eyes very bright. 'It would never do.'

Bolitho bowed and murmured, 'May I see you?'

Egmont called, 'Come along, the others are leaving.' He' shook Bolitho's hand. 'Do not delay your captain. It does not pay.'

Bolitho walked out to one of the waiting carriages and climbed inside She knew and understood. And now, after what he had overheard, she would need a friend. He stared ' blindly into the darkness, remembering her voice, the, warm touch of her fingers.

'Aurora.' He started, realizing he had spoken her name aloud.

But he need not have bothered, his companions were already fast asleep.

She was twisting- in his arms, laughing and provoking him as he tried to hold her, to feel the touch of her bare shoulder against his lips.

Bolitho awoke gasping in his cot, his head throbbing wildly as he blinked at the lantern above his face.

It was Yeames, master's mate, his eyes curious as he watched the lieutenant's confusion, his reluctance to let go of a dream.

Bolitho asked, 'What time is it?'

Yeames grinned unsympathetically. 'Dawn, sir" The 'ands is just turnin' to to 'olystone and scrub down.' He' added as an afterthought, 'The cap'n wants you.'

Bolitho rolled out of his cot and kept his feet well apart on the deck for fear of falling. The brief respite on Egmont's cool terrace had gone, and his head felt as if it contained .a busy anvil, while his throat tasted vile.

Dawn, Yeames had said. He had not been in his cot for more than two hours.

In the next cabin he heard Rhodes groaning as if in agony, and then yelping in protest as an unknown seaman dropped something heavy on the quarterdeck overhead.

Yeames prompted, 'Better 'urry , sir.'

Bolitho tugged on his breeches and groped for his shirt which had been tossed in one corner of the tiny space. 'Trouble?'

Yeames shrugged. 'Depends wot you mean by trouble, sir.' To him Bolitho was still a stranger and an unknown quantity. To share what he knew, merely because Bolitho was worried, would be stupid.

Bolitho found his hat, and tugging on his coat he hurried through the wardroom and blundered aft towards the cabin.

The sentry called, 'Third lieutenant, sir!' and Macmillan, the captain's servant, opened the screen door as if he had been waiting behind it.

Bolitho stepped through into the after cabin and saw Dumaresq by the stern windows. His hair was awry, and he looked as if he had not found time to undress after his return from Egmont's house. In a corner by the quarter windows, Spillane, the newly appointed clerk, was scratching away with his pen, trying to show no concern at being called at such an early hour. The other two present were Gulliver, the master, and Midshipman Jury.

Dumaresq glared at Bolitho. 'You should have come immediately! I do not expect my officers to dress as if they are going to a ball when I need them!'

Bolitho glanced down at his crumpled shirt and twisted stockings. Also, with his hat clamped beneath one arm, his hair was falling over his face, just as it had been on the pillow. Hardly suitable for a ball.

Dumaresq said, 'During my absence ashore, your seaman Murray escaped. He was not in his cell, but being taken to the sick-bay because he had complained about a severe pain in his stomach.' He turned his wrath on the master. 'God damn it, Mr Gulliver, it was obvious what he was doing!'

Gulliver licked his lips. 'I was in charge of the ship, sir . It was my responsibility. I saw no cause for Murray to suffer, an' the man not yet found guilty as charged.'

Midshipman Jury said, 'The message was brought aft to me, sir. It was my fault.'

Dumaresq replied tersely, 'Speak when you are addressed. It was not your fault, because midshipmen do not have responsibility. Neither do they possess the wit or the brains to be in a position to say what this or that man shall do!' His eyes trained round on Gulliver again. 'Tell Mr Bolitho the rest.'

Gulliver said harshly, 'The ship's corporal was escorting him when Murray pushed him down. He was outboard and swimming for the shore before the alarm was raised.' He looked downcast and humiliated at having to repeat his explanation for a junior lieutenant's benefit.

Dumaresq said, 'So there it is. Your trust in that man was wasted. He escaped a flogging, but when he is taken he will hang.' He glanced at Spillane. 'Note it in the log. Run.'

Bolitho looked at Jury's dismay. There were only three ways for a man to quit the Navy, and they were noted as R, D, or DD, Run implied desertion, D stood for discharged. Murray's next entry would be the last. Discharged Dead.

And all because of a watch. And yet, in spite .of the disappointment over his trust in Murray, Bolitho was strangely relieved at what had happened. The punishment for a man he had known and liked, who had saved Jury's life, was no longer a threat. And its aftermath of suspicion and bitterness had been. averted.

Dumaresq said slowly, 'So be it. Mr Bolitho, you will remain. The others may carryon.'

Macmillan closed the door behind Jury and Gulliver. The master's .shoulders were stiff with resentment.

Dumaresq asked, 'Hard, you are thinking? But it may prevent weakness later on.'

He calmed as only he could, the rage falling away without apparent effort.

'I am glad you carried yourself well last night, Mr Bolitho. I nope Y(')U kept your eyes and ears open?'

The sentry's musket thumped on the deck again. 'First lieutenant, sir!'

Bolitho watched as Palliser entered the cabin, his routine list of work for the day beneath his arm. He looked gaunter than usual as he said, 'The water lighters may come out to us today, sir, so I shall tell Mr Timbrell to be prepared. Two men are to see you for promotion, and there is the question of punishment for the ship's corporal for negligence and allowing Murray to desert.'

His eyes moved to Bolitho and he gave a curt nod. Bolitho wondered if it was mere chance that Palliser always seemed to be nearby whenever he was with the captain.

,'Very well, Mr Palliser, though I'll believe those water lighters when I see them.' He looked at Bolitho. 'Go and put your appearance to rights and take yourself ashore. Mr Egmont has a letter for me, I believe.' He gave a wry smile ... 'Do not dally too long, although I know there are many distractions in Rio.'

Bolitho felt his face going hot. 'Aye, sir. I'll leave directly.'

He hurried from the cabin and heard Dumaresq say, 'Young devil!' But there was no malice in his voice.

Twenty minutes later Bolitho was sitting in the jolly- boat being pulled ashore. He saw that Stockdale was acting as the boat's coxswain, but did not question him on this. Stockdale seemed to make friends easily, although his fearsome appearance might also have something to do with his apparent freedom of movement.

Stockdale called hoarsely, 'Easy all!'

The oars rose dripping in the rowlocks, and Bolitho realized that the jolly-boat was losing way in order not to be run down by another vessel. She was a brig, a sturdy, well-used vessel with patched canvas and many a scrape on her hull to mark encounters with sea and weather.

She had already spread her topsails, and there were men sliding down backstays to the deck to set the forecourse before she cleared the rest of the anchored vessels nearby.

She moved slowly between Destiny's jolly-boat and some incoming fishermen, her shadow falling across the watching oarsmen as they rested on their looms and waited to proceed.

Bolitho read her name across the counter, Rosario. One of hundreds of such craft which daily risked storm and other dangers to trade and to extend the outposts of a growing empire.

Stockdale growled, 'Give way all!'

Bolitho was about to turn his attention to the shore when he saw a movement at the stern windows above the name Rosario. For an instant he imagined he was mistaken. But he was not. The same black hair and oval face. She was too far off for him to see the violet of her eyes, but he saw her looking towards him before the brig changed tack and the sunlight made the windows into a fiery mirror.

He was heavy hearted when he reached the house with the Age old wall around it. Egmont's steward told him coolly that his master had departed, his wife, too. He did not know their destination.

Bolitho returned to the ship and reported to Dumaresq, expecting a further eruption of fury at this latest set back.

Palliser was with him as Bolitho blurted out what he had discovered, although he did not mention he had seen Egmont's wife in the Rosario.

He did not need to. Dumaresq said, 'The only vessel to leave here was the brig. He must be aboard. Once a damned traitor always a traitor. Well, he'll not escape this time, by God no!'

Palliser said gravely, 'So this was the reason for the delay, sir. No fresh water, no audience with the Viceroy. They had us over a gate.' He sounded suddenly bitter. 'We can't move, and they know it!'

Surprisingly, Dumaresq gave a great grin. Then he shouted, 'Macmillan, I want a shave and a bath! Spillane, prepare to write some orders for Mr Palliser.' He walked to the stern windows and leaned on the sill, his massive head lowered towards the rudder. 'Select some prime seamen, Mr Palliser, and transfer to the Heloise. Do not rouse the guard-boat's attention with too much fuss, so take no marines. Weigh and chase that damned brig, and don't lose her.'

Bolitho watched the change in the man. It explained why Dumaresq had stopped Slade from entering the protected anchorage. He had anticipated something like this and had a trick to play, as always.

Palliser's mind was already busy. 'And you, sir?' Dumaresq watched his servant as he prepared a bowl and razor by his favorite chair.

'Water or no water, Mr Palliser, I shall weigh tonight and come after you.'

Palliser eyed him doubtfully. 'The battery might open fire, sir.'

'In daylight maybe. But there is a lot of so-called honour at stake here. I intend to test it.' He turned away, dismissing them, but added, 'Take the third lieutenant. I shall require Rhodes, even if his head is still falling apart from his drinking, to assume your duties here.'

At any other time Bolitho would have welcomed the offer gladly. But he had seen the look in Palliser's eyes, and remembered the face at the brig's cabin windows. She would despise him after this. Like the dream, it was over.

8 The Chase

Lieutenant Charles Palliser strode to the Heloise's compass box and then consulted the masthead pendant.

To confirm his fears, Slade, the acting-master, said dourly, 'The wind's backed a piece, but it's also falling away.'

Bolitho watched Palliser's reactions and compared him with Dumaresq. The captain was in Rio aboard Destiny, outwardly dealing with the ship's affairs, even to the extent of seeing two seamen who had been put up for promotion. Fresh water, the prospect of a summons from the Portuguese Viceroy, it would mean nothing to most of the frigate's company. But Bolitho knew what was really uppermost in "Dumaresq's thoughts:

Egmont's refusal to yield and his sudden departure in the brig Rosario. Without Egmont, Dumaresq would have little choice but to seek higher naval authority for instructions, and in that time the scent would go cold.

Slade had said that: the brig had been steering north-north-east as she had cleared the roadstead. Egmont was heading along the coast, probably all the way to the Caribbean. In a small trading vessel like that it would be extremely uncomfortable for his lovely wife.

Palliser crossed to his side. On the brigantine's confined deck he looked like a giant, but unusually content, Bolitho thought. Palliser was free of his captain's word, could act as he pleased. Always provided he did not lose the Rosario. And with the wind dropping fast, that was a possibility.

He said, 'They'll not be expecting a chase. That is all we have on our side.'

He glanced up, irritated, as the forecourse boomed and flapped, empty of wind and allowing the heat to seek out the men on deck.

'Damn!' Then he said, 'Mr Slade says the brig will stay inshore. Unless the wind shifts, I accept that. We shall continue as we are. Change the lookouts as you think fit, and have the weapons which are still 'aboard this vessel inspected.' He clasped his hands behind him. 'Don't work the people too hard.' He saw the surprise on Bolitho's face and gave a thin smile. 'They will have to take to the oars shortly. I intend to warp Heloise with the boats. They'll need all their muscle for that!'

Bolitho touched his hat and walked forward. He should have guessed. But he had to confess admiration for Palliser's preparations. He thought of everything.

He saw Jury and Midshipman Ingrave waiting for him by the foremast. Jury looked tense but Ingrave, who was a year older, could barely conceal his delight at being freed from his task of acting-clerk for the captain.

Beyond them were other familiar faces amongst the. hastily selected hands. Josh Little, gunner's mate, his stomach hanging over his cutlass-belt. Ellis Pearse, boat- swain's mate, a bushy-browed man who had shown the same satisfaction as Bolitho that Murray had deserted. Pearse would have been the man to flog him, and he had always liked Murray. And of course, there was Stockdale, his thick arms folded over his chest as he surveyed the brigantine's deck, remembering perhaps that fierce, desperate struggle when Bolitho had fought hand to hand with the vessel's master.

Dutchy Vorbink, foretopman, who had left the East India Company and exchanged their ordered and well-paid life for that of a man-of-war. He spoke little English, unless he wanted to, so nobody had discovered his true reason for volunteering.

There were faces which had now become people to Bolitho. Some coarse and brutalized, others who would brawl with the best of them but were equally quick to put right a wrong for a less outspoken messmate.

Bolitho said, 'Mr Spillane, examine the arms chest and make a list of weapons. Little, you had better go through the magazine.' He looked around at the few swivel guns, two of which had been sent across from Destiny. 'Hardly enough to start a war.'

It brought a few grins and chuckles, and Stockdale muttered, 'There's still some prisoners battened below, sir. '

Bolitho looked at Little. He had forgotten about the Heloise's original company. Those not killed or wounded had been detained here. Safe enough, but in the event of trouble they would have to be watched.

Little showed his uneven teeth. 'All taken care of, sir. I got Olsson on guard. They'd be too scared to challenge 'im!'

Bolitho agreed. Olsson was a Swede and was said to be half mad. It shone from his eyes which were like washed-out-blue glass. A good seaman who could reef and steer and turn his hand to anything, but when they had boarded this same brigantine Bolitho had chilled to Olsson's crazy screams as he had cleaved his way through his opponents.

He forced a grin. 'I'd think twice myself.'

Pearse groaned as the sails shivered and then flapped dully against rigging and spars.

'There goes the bloody wind.'

Bolitho crossed to the bulwark and leaned out over the blue water. He saw the wind's ripple on the surface moving away far ahead of the bows like a great shoal of fish. The brigantine lifted and sighed in the swell, blocks and sails clattering in protest as the power went with the wind.

'Man your boats!' Palliser was watching from beside the helmsmen.

Bare feet padded over the hot deck seams as the first crews went away in the quarter-boat, as well as Destiny's cutter which they had kept in tow beneath the counter.

It took far too long to layout the towing warps and pass them to the boats. Then with each boat angled away on either bow the painful, dreary business began.

They could not hope to make any speed, but it would prevent the vessel from drifting completely out of command,and when the wind came they would be ready.

Bolitho stood above the larboard anchor and watched the towlines tautening and then sagging beneath the glittering water as the oarsmen threw their weight into play.

Little shook his head. 'Mr Jury's no 'and for this, sir. 'E'll need to use 'is starter on that lot.'

Bolitho could see the difference between the two towing boats. Jury's was yawing badly, and a couple of the oars were barely cutting beneath the surface. The other boat, with Midshipman Ingrave in charge, was making better progress', and Bolitho knew why. lngrave was not a bully, but he was well aware of his superiors watching from the brigantine, and was using a rope's end on some of his men to make them work harder at the oars.

Bolitho walked aft and said to Palliser, 'I'll change the crews in an hour, sir.'

'Good .' Palliser was watching the sails and then the compass. 'She's got steerage-way at least. Few thanks to the larboard boat.'

Bolitho said nothing. He knew only too well what it was like as a midshipman to be suddenly thrown into an unpopular job. But Palliser did not press the point, which was something. Bolitho thought of his own sudden acceptance of his new role .. He had not asked Palliser about changing the boats' crews, he had told him, and the first lieutenant had accepted without question. Palliser was as wily as Dumaresq. In their very different ways they were able to draw out exactly what they required from their subordinates.

He glanced at Slade, who was shading his eyes to peer at the sky. A man who wanted promotion above all" else. Dumaresq used that too, to extract the best fro~ the intolerant master's mate, which in turn would aid him when his chance of advancement finally came. Even Palliser had his mind set on his own command, and this temporary duty in charge of Heloise would stand very well on his record.

All through the day the relentless boat-pulling went on, while not even a faint breeze came to revive the sails. They hung from the yards, limp and useless, like the men who tumbled aboard from the boats as soon as they were relieved. Too exhausted to do much more than gulp down a double. ration of wine which Slade had broached from the hold, they fell about like dead men.

In the cabin aft, tiny as it was, but adequate when compared with the rest of the' space between decks, the relieved midshipmen and their lieutenants tried to find escape from the heat and the dangerous need to drink and keep on drinking.

With Palliser asleep and Slade on watch, Bolitho sat at the small table, his head lolling as he tried to keep his mind awake. Opposite him, his lips cracked from the sun's glare, Jury rested his head on his hands and looked into space.

Ingrave was away with the boats again, but even his keenness was flagging badly.

Bolitho asked, 'How do you feel?'

Jury smiled painfully, 'Dreadful, sir.' He tried to straighten his back and plucked his sodden shirt away from his skin.

Bolitho pushed a bottle towards him. 'Drink this.' He saw the youth hesitate and insisted, 'I'll stand your trick in the boats if you like. It's better than sitting here and waiting.

Jury poured a cup of wine and said, 'No, sir, but thank you. I'll go when I'm called.'

Bolitho smiled. He had toyed with the idea of telling Stockdale to go with the midshipman. One sight of him would put a stopper on any slackness or insubordination. But Jury was right. To make it easy for him when he most needed confidence and experience would only lay a snare for later on.

'I - I was thinking, .sir .' He looked across guardedly. 'About Murray. D'you think he'll be all right?'

Bolitho thought about it. Even that was an effort. 'Maybe. Provided he stays away from the sea. I've known men who have quit the Navy to return and find security under a different name in the service they had originally reviled. But that can be dangerous. The Navy is a family. There is always a familiar face and a memory to match it.'

He thought of Dumaresq and Egmont. Each linked by Dumaresq's dead father, just as he was now involved with whatever they might attempt.

Jury said, 'I often think about him. Of what happened on deck.' He glanced up at the low beams as if expecting to hear the ring of steel, the desperate shuffle of men circling each other for a kill. Then he looked at Bolitho and added, 'I'm sorry. I was told to put it from my mind.'

A call shrilled and a voice yelled, 'Away boats' crews!

Lively there!'

Jury stood up, his fair hair brushing the deckhead. Bolitho said quietly, 'I was told much the same when I joined the Destiny. Like you, I still have the same difficulty.'

He remained at the table, listening to the thump of boats alongside, the clatter of oars as the crews changed around yet again.

The door opened, and bent double like a crippled sailor, Palliser groped his way to a chair and thankfully sat down. He too listened to the boats thrashing away from the hull, the sluggish response from the tiller-head as the brigantine submitted to the tow.

Then he said flatly, 'I'm going to lose that devil. After getting this far, it's all been cut from under me.'

Bolitho could feel the disappointment like a physical thing, and the fact Palliser had made no effort to hide his' despair was strangely sad.

He pushed the bottle and cup across the table. 'Why not take a glass, sir.'

Palliser looked up from his thoughts, his eyes flashing. Then he smiled wearily and took the cup.

'Why not, Richard?' He slopped the wine carelessly over the rim. 'Why not indeed?'

While the sun moved towards the opposite horizon, the two lieutenants sat in .silence, occasionally taking. a sip of the wine which by now was as warm as milk.

Then Bolitho dragged out his watch and said, "One-more hour with the boats and then we shall secure for the night, sir?'

Palliser had been in deep thought and rook several seconds to reply.*

He said, 'Yes. There's nothing else we can do.'

Bolitho was stunned by the change in him, but knew if he tried to cheer him up the truce would be shattered.

Beet shuffled through the main-deck and Little's gr;at face squinted in at them.

'Beg pardon, sir, but Mr Slade sends 'is respects and says 'e can "ear gunfire- to the nortlh'rd!'

An empty bottle rolled across the deck at the lieutenants' feet and clinked against the Side as the cabin suddenly tilted.

" Palliser stared at the bottle. He was still seated, but his head was touching a beam without difficulty. " He exclaimed, 'The wind! The damned, wonderful wind!' He clawed his way to the door. 'Not a moment too soon!'

Bolitho felt the hull give a shiver, as if it was awakening from a deep sleep. Then with a bound he hurried after the lanky Palliser, sobbing with pain as his skull came in contact with ""it ring-bolt.

On deck the men were staring around with disbelief as the big forecourse filled and boomed -noisily from its yard.

Palliser yelled, 'Recall the boats! Stand by to come about!' He was peering at the compass and then up at the masthead pendant, just visible against the early stars.

Slade said, 'Wind's shifted, Sir, veered a little, sou'-west.'

Palliser rubbed his chin. 'Gunfire, you say?'

Slade nodded. 'No doubt. Small pieces is my guess.' 'Good. As soon as the boats are secured, get under way again and lay her on the larboard tack. Steer nor'-west by north.'

He stood aside as the men ran through the deepening shadows to their stations.

Bolitho tested their new relationship. 'Will you not wait for Destiny, sir?'

Palliser held up his hand and they both heard the muted sounds of gunfire.

Then he said tersely, 'No, Mr Bolitho, I will not. Even if my captain succeeds in leaving harbour, and is able to discover more favourable winds than. ourselves, he'll not thank me for allowing the evidence he so sorely needs to be destroyed.'

Pearse yelled, 'Boats secured aft, sir!'

'Man the braces! Stand by to come about!'

The wind hissed over the water and thrust against the canvas with new strength, pushing the brigantine over as a white froth gathered around her stem.

Palliser said sharply, 'Darken ship, Pearse! I want nothing to betray our presence!'

Slade said, 'It might be over an' done with before dawn, sir. '

But the new Palliser snapped, 'Nonsense! That vessel is being attacked, probably by pirates. They'll not risk a collision in darkness.' He turned to seek out Bolitho and added, 'Not like us, eh?'

Little shook his head and breathed out noisily. Bolitho could smell the drink on his breath, as strong as an open cellar door.

'Gawd, Mr Bolitho, 'e's really 'appy at last.'

Bolitho thought suddenly of the face he had seen aboard the ship now under attack.

'Please God we shall be in time.'

Little, not understanding, walked away to join his friend Pearse for another 'wet'.

So the new third lieutenant was as eager as the captain for prize money, he thought, and that could not be such a bad thing for the rest of them.

Palliser prowled' across the poop like a restless animal. 'Shorten sail, Mr Bolitho. Take in the t'gan'sls and stays'l. Roundly now!'

Men groped their way to halliards' and belaying-pins while others ran swiftly up the ratlines and out along the topgallant yard.

Bolitho always marvelled at the little time it took trained seamen to get used to a strange' vessel, even in the dark.

It would soon be dawn, and he could feel the previous day's weariness and hours without sleep clawing at his resistance. Palliser had kept his small company on the move throughout the night. Changing tack, altering course, retrimming sails, as he plotted and estimated the whereabouts of the other vessels. Several times there had been short exchanges of gunfire, but Palliser had said it-was more to deter a possible chase than with any hope of close action. One thing had been proved by the occasional cannon fire. There were at least three vessels out there beyond the Heloise's taut jib. Like wolves around a wounded beast, waiting for it to falter or make one fatal mistake.

Little called hoarsely, 'All guns loaded, sir!'

Palliser replied, 'Very well.' In a lower tone to Bolitho he added, 'All guns. A few swivels and about enough canister to disturb a field of crows!'

Midshipman Ingrave said, 'Permission to run up the colours, sir?'

Palliser nodded. 'Yes. This is a King's ship for the present, and we're not likely to meet another.'

Bolitho recalled some of the muttering he had heard during the night. A few of the hands were troubled at the prospect of engaging pirates or anyone else with so puny an armament.

Bolitho darted a quick glance to starboard. Was there a faint lightening on the horizon? There was a good lookout aloft, and he was their best hope of taking the other vessel by surprise. It was unlikely that pirates intent on capturing and plundering a trader would be bothered about keeping a watch elsewhere.

He heard Slade whispering with Palliser. He was another one who was unhappy about the coming confrontation.

Palliser said fiercely, 'Keep an eye on your course and be ready to change tack if we outrun the enemy. Leave the rest to me, see.

Bolitho felt his limbs shiver. The enemy. Palliser had no doubts anyway.

Stockdale came from the shadows, his great frame angled against the deck as the wind held them over.

'Them buggers are usin' chain-shot, sir. Once or twice I 'eard it when I was aloft.'

Bolitho bit his lip. So they intended to cripple the Rosario's rigging and then pound her into submission with less risk to themselves. They would get a snack when they saw Heloise bearing down on them. For a short while anyway.

He said, 'Maybe Destiny's already chasing after us.' 'Mebbee .'

Bolitho turned away as Jury came to join him. Stockdale did not believe that, any more than he did.

Jury asked, 'Will it take much longer, sir?'

'Dawn comes up swiftly. You'll see their topsails or upper yards at any minute now. If one of them fires again, we should be able to plot his bearing.'

Jury watched him in the gloom. 'It does not trouble you, sir?'

Bolitho shrugged. 'Not now. Later perhaps. We are committed, or soon will be.' He turned and put his hand on the midshipman's shoulder. 'Just remember something. Mr Palliser has picked some very experienced hands for this work. But his officers are somewhat youthful.' He saw Jury nod. 'So keep your head and be where you can be seen. Leave .the miracles to Mr Palliser.'

Jury smiled and theft winced as his cracked lips reminded him of the previous day's boatwork.

He said, 'I'll stay with you.'

Stockdale chuckled. 'Beggin' yer pardon, young gendeman, but don't -you be gettin' in my' way.' He swung a . cutlass across the bulwark like a scythe. 'Wouldn't want you to lose yer 'ead , so to speak!'

Palliser called, 'Stand by to take in the forecourse! Keep it quiet!'

The boatswain's mate pointed abeam. 'Dawn, sir!'

Palliser rasped, 'God dammit, Pearse, we're neither blind nor bloody deaf!'

.Pearse grinned at Palliser's back. 'Palliser, you're a real pig!' But he was careful that nobody should hear him. 'Deck there! Sail on the starboard bow! And '!'nother to larboard!'

Palliser clapped his hands together. 'We did it! Damn their eyes, we're into them!'

At that moment a gun fired, making an orange flash on the dark water.

Slade said anxiously, 'There's a third to wind'rd!' Bolitho gripped his hanger and pressed its scabbard against his thigh to calm himself.

Three vessels, die centre one was doubtless the Rosario; 'with her two attackers. standing off to form one great triangle. He heard a slithering sound and then a splintering crash, and vaguely through the darkness ahead he saw a jagged patch of spray as some spars and rigging hit "the water.

Stockdale nodded. Chain-shot right enough, th' buggers.

'Stand by on deck! Watch your slow-matches!'

There was no need for stealth now. Bolitho heard a shrill whistle from the nearest vessel and the crack of a pistol. It had either exploded in error or had been used as a signal to warn their consort .

. With their muskets and powder-horns ready to use, cutlasses and boarding pikes within easy reach, the Destiny's seamen peered into the darkness.

'Take in the forecourse!'

Men ran to obey, and as the great sail was brailed up to its yard the growing light revealed the crouching figures and trained swivels like the rising of a curtain.

There was a series of bangs, and Bolitho heard the chain-shot screeching overhead like tormented spirits in hell.

Little said between his teeth, 'Too 'igh, thank the livin' Jesus!'

The deadly chain-shot threw up broken spray far to starboard, but in direct line with the brigantine's two masts.

'Lee helm!' Palliser was gripping a backstay as he studied the enemy's blurred outline. 'As close to the wind as you can!'

'Man the braces!'

The brigantine crept round, until her remaining sails were rippling in protest.

'Nor'-wesr by west, sir! Full an' bye!'

The other vessel fired and a ball slammed down within twenty feet of the Heloise's bow and hurled spray high over . the beak-head.

Then firing began in earnest, the balls wide and haphazard as the gun crews tried to guess what the newcomer was trying to do.

Another ball ripped through the driver and left a jagged hole in the canvas large enough for a man's head.

Palliser exploded, 'That bloody fool brig fired at us.' Little grinned. 'Thanks we're pirates, too!'

'I'll give him pirates!'

Palliser pointed at the vessel which was rising out of the darkness to larboard and shortening as she changed tack to run down on the brigantine's impudent approach. 'Schooner! Take her first!'

Little cupped his hands. 'On the uproll, lads!'

Men were still dragging one of the swivels across to mount it on the opposite side and yelled at Little to give them more time.

But Little knew his trade well.

'Easy, lads!' It was like hearing a man quietening a beast. 'Fire!' ' Like glow-worms the matches plunged down and the swivels barked viciously at the oncoming vessel. A murderous hail of closely packed canister swept across her fore-castle, and Bolitho thought he heard screams as it found a target.

'Stand by to come about!' Palliser's voice carried easily even without his speaking trumpet. 'Lee braces!'

Palliser walked jerkily down the sloping deck to join Slade by the helm. 'We'll go for another one, Put up your helm.'

Heeling hard' over, the brigantine ran to leeward, her canvas banging lustily until the seamen had hauled the yards round again. The second vessel seemed to pivot across the jib-boom until she lay to larboard, her stern end on to the charging Heloise. Palliser yelled, 'Rake her poop, Little!' He swung on Slade and his gasping helmsmen. 'Steady as she goes, you fool!'

Bolitho found time to pity Slade's concern. The Heloise was rushing down on the other vessel's stern as if she was about to smash bodily through her quarter like an axe. 'Fire!'

Flashes lit up the decks of both vessels as their guns spat our darting orange tongues, accompanied by the crash of iron hitting home. Heloise's canister must have wiped the other vessel's poop clean. Helmsmen, gun crews, there was not enough room to escape as the 'daisy cutters" jagged charges swept amongst them. She began to fall downwind, to be raked yet again by Little's other swivels.

'Set the forecourse!' Palliser's voice was everywhere. Bolitho could see him clearly now, his lean body moving about the poop and framed. against the brightening sea like an avenger.

'Fire!'

More balls shrieked overhead, and Bolitho guessed that their first target had regained his courage and was closing to the aid of his companion,

He saw the Rosario for the first time, and his heart sank at tile spectacle. Her' foremast had gone completely, and only half of her main appeared to be standing. WI wreckage and severed rigging trailed everywhere, and as the sun lifted above the horizon Bolitho saw the thin scarlet threads which ran down from every scupper. It was as if the ship herself and not her defenders was bleeding to death.

''Hands wear ship!'

Bolitho jabbed a seaman's shoulder and yelled, 'Join the others!' He felt the man jump before he ran to throw his weight on the braces. He had imagined it to be hot iron and not his hand.

There was a tremendous crash, and Bolitho almost fell to his knees as two hits were scored on the Heloise's hull.

Bolitho saw Ingrave staring at the nearest vessel, wide-eyed and unable to move.' ..

He shouted, 'Get below' and attend to the damage!' He strode to the midshipman and gripped his sleeve and shook him like a doll. 'At once, Mr Ingrave! Sound the well!' Ingrave stared at him vacantly, and then with unexpected determination ran to the companion.

Stockdale unceremoniously dragged Bolitho) arm and held him aside' as a massive block fell from aloft, broken cordage whipping behind- it. It struck the bulwark and bounced over the side.'

Palliser shouted, 'Stand to!' He had drawn his sword. 'Ready to larboard!'

Against the schooner's cannon, small though they were, the swivels sounded insignificant. Bolitho saw the canister blast through the schooner's fore-sail and hurl two men into bloody bundles before more balls smashed through Heloise's lower hull. He heard the havoc tearing between decks, the crack of splinters and collapsing timbers, and knew they had been badly hit.

Someone had managed to get the pumps going, but he saw two men fall bleeding badly, and another who had been working on the topsail yard trying to lower himself to safety with one leg hanging ro his body by a muscle.

Palliser shouted, 'Come aft!'

As Bolitho hurried to join him he said, 'We're doing no good. Get below yourself and report the damage.' He blinked as more shots thudded into the reeling hull, and somewhere a man shrieked in agony. 'Feel her? She's going!'

Bolitho stared at him. It was true. The Heloise's agility had given way to an ungainly response to both helm ~nd wind. It did not seem possible. So quickly, and their roles had changed. There was no aid at hand, and their enemies would not let them die easily.

Palliser snapped, 'I'm going to steer for the brig. With our men and her guns there's still a chance.' He looked steadily at Bolitho. 'Now be a good fellow and get below.'

Bolitho hurried to the companion, his quick glance taking in the splintered deck planking and stark blood- stains. They had fought here before. Surely that was enough? Perhaps fate had always intended they should end thus?

He called to Jury, 'Come with me.' He peered down into the darkness, dreading the thought of being trapped below if the ship went down. He spoke carefully to hide his anxiety. 'We will examine the damage together. Then if I fall ...' He saw Jury gasp. So he had not yet accepted the idea of death. ' ... you will relay the details to Mr Palliser.'

Once down the companion ladder he lit a lantern and led the way forward, careful to avoid some of the jagged splinters which had been smashed-through from the deck above. The sounds were muffled but filled with menace as the ship shook and bucked to the bombardment.

The two attacking vessels were working round on either beam, heedless of the danger of hitting each other in their eagerness to destroy the little ship with the scarlet ensign at her peak.

Bolitho dragged open a lower hatch and said, 'I can hear water.'

Jury whispered, 'Oh, dear God, we're foundering!' Bolitho laid down and dipped his lantern through the hatch. It was a scene of complete chaos. Shattered casks and remnants of canvas floated amongst splintered wood, and as he watched he imagined he saw the water rising still further.

He said, 'Go to the first lieutenant and tell him there's no hope.' He restrained Jury, feeling his sudden surge off ear as more balls cracked into the hull. 'Walk. Remember what I said. They'll be looking to you.' He tried to smile, to show that nothing mattered. 'All right?'

Jury backed away, his eyes moving from the open hatch to Bolitho.

'What will you do?'

Bolitho turned his head sharply as a new sound echoed through the listing hull like a giant's hammer. One of the anchors had broken free and was smashing into the bows with every roll. It could only speed their end.

'I'll go to Olsson. We must release the prisoners.'

And then Bolitho was alone. He swallowed deeply and tried to keep his limbs from shaking. Then very slowly he groped his way aft again, the regular boom of the anchor against the hull following him like an execution drum.

There was another thud against the hull, but it was followed instantly by a loud crack. One of the masts, or part of it, was coming down. He tensed, waiting for the final crash as it hit the deck or plunged over the side.

The next instant he was spread-eagled in the darkness, the lantern gone from his hand, although he did not feel anything, nor did he recall the moment of impact.

All he knew was that he was pinned beneath a mass of wreckage and unable to move.

He pressed his ear to a ventilation grating and heard die surge of water as it battered through the bilges and lower hold. He was on the edge of terror, and knew that in seconds he could be screaming and kicking in a hopeless attempt to free himself.

Thoughts crowded through his mind. His mother as she had watched him leave. The sea below the headland at' Falmouth where he and his brother had first ventured out in a fisherman's boat, and his father's wrath when he had discovered what they had done.

His eyes smarted, but when he tried to move his fingers to his face the fallen debris held him as cruelly as any trap, The anchor had stopped its incessant boom against the hull, which meant it was probably under water with the forepart of the vessel.

Bolitho. closed his eyes and waited, praying that his nerve would not break before the end.

9 Palliser's Ruse