Stand Into Danger (12 page)

“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 I 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 to treat him fairly but severely. It will be as much a test for you as it is for him.” He nodded. “Dismissed.”

As Bolitho closed 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, o' 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
Asturias
'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. If I 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. Carry on 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.

6 DIVIDED
L
OYALTIES

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 rime!” 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 enjoy 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.