Bolitho stretched his arms and saw the rent in his sleeve left by the musket ball. Was it possible? Could he have been so near to death?
He said, "Take the gig, Allday, and go ashore. Keep your ears and eyes open, understand?"
Allday's features stayed expressionless. "Understood, Captain." Then he grinned. "I will be on board again in one hour."
Bolitho thought suddenly of fresh water and a clean shirt on his back. With a nod to Inch he strode aft to the chartroom.
Commodores and governors could discuss high policy, he, thought grimly. But the Alldays of this world often reached the bones of the matter in half the time.
For the Hyperion's company the days which followed their arrival at St. Kruis were unlike anything they had ever known. From dawn to dusk the work of repairing damage went on with hardly a pause, but because of the lush surroundings and friendly atmosphere they still found time to lend their attentions to other, more interesting activities. The memory of the battle, even the scars of it, had all but vanished, and as carpenters and seamen worked above the deck or deep in the hull, others, luckier or craftier, dragged out their time ashore collecting fresh water and fruit, and took every advantage to better their
Imuu relations with the local women.
At the beginning of the third week the Indomitable and the Hermes with their two attendant sloops dropped anchor in the bay, and Bolitho wondered just how long it was going to take Pelham-Martin to decide on a definite course of action. So far the commodore had done little, other than send the two frigates on separate patrols to the south-west, but now he had larger ships at his disposal he might at last be prepared to move.
It had been easy for Bolitho to keep his own men busy. There was ample work to do repairing rigging and decks, and with the battle casualties added to the previous shortages he was now lacking nearly a sixth of the total complement. But even such severe shortages might not be relied on to keep his men out of trouble. He could not, would not restrict them from going ashore in small parties, but already there had been squabbles, even fights with some of the local menfolk, and the cause was easy to discover.
The dark skinned women with their ready smiles and bold eyes were enough to set any sailor's heart aflame, and mixed with the blazing sunshine and easily obtained rum it was just a matter of time before something serious happened.
i And now, with more ships anchored in the bay the local people's ready welcome might soon give way to resentment and worse.
When he had told the commodore of his fears he had received no satisfaction. Peiham-Martin was no longer living aboard, but had taken full advantage of de Block's offer to set up temporary headquarters in the governor's own residence by the waterfront.
He had merely said, "If you cannot trust your people on shore, Bolitho, then you must keep them from going there!"
On another occasion he had implied that he was awaiting news from Caracas which might give some fresh idea as to where Lequiller had gone.
And that was the strangest part of all. Lequiller's squadron had vanished as if it did not even exist.
When the frigate Spartan had returned from Caracas, Bolitho had managed to meet her captain before he had been ordered to his new patrol area. Captain Farquhar had been both resentful and impatient.
"The Spanish Captain-General was polite but little else. He gave me ten minutes' audience and no more, and seemed barely interested in our commodore's greeting." His lips had twisted into a scornful smile. "He gave me to understand that the English have claimed control of the Caribbean for so long it was our duty to prove it."
Bolitho could well imagine Farquhar's irritation. He had never been noted for his tolerance, and the humiliation of being thus dismissed would not be easy to accept. But if he had been angry, he had not been slow in making full use of his visit. There had been only one shipof-war at Caracas, and she was obviously being retained as a local escort, probably for one of the Spanish treasure ships. One thing was certain, however. Nobody knew or would say a word about Lequiller's squadron. And yet-Bolitho had considered it countless times-it had to be somewhere, repairing damage as he was, preparing and watching for the next move. But where?
Then, after another week of waiting and fretting, a small armed schooner slipped into the bay and anchored close inshore. She was the Fauna, de Block's link with the other Dutch islands, and almost as old as the sixty-gun Telamon.
Within an hour Bolitho received a summons to report to Pelham-Martin's headquarters, and as the barge pulled away from the Hyperion's side he saw with grim satisfaction that boats were already leaving the other ships and heading for the shore. It must be something urgent for the commodore to call his captains together before lunchtime, he thought. Since taking up residence in de Block's house Pelham-Martin had adopted a grand and remote way of life. If anything he had grown larger in his new surroundings, and when he entertained some of his officers to dinner, which was not often, his capacity for food and wine was a topic of conversation for days afterwards.
Bolitho found him in the low ceilinged room above the waterfront seated behind a gilt-edged table which was completely covered with charts and loose papers.
He looked up as Bolitho entered and waved one hand towards a chair. Then he said casually, "News at last, Bolitho." He seemed to be holding back his excitement with real effort. "De Block has informed me of Lequiller's whereabouts, so now we can act!"
Winstanley and Fitzmaurice came into the room together followed by Captain Mulder of the Telamon.
Pelham-Martin waited for them to arrange themselves in chairs and then said, "Lequiller's ships have been found, gentlemen." He watched their sudden interest and added grandly, "I know that there are some who might have wished to act prematurely," he let his eyes rest briefly on Bolitho before continuing, "but as I have always stressed, there is a correct method of bringing an enemy to action, a positive way of showing our strength." He was warming to his theme, and from the expressions of the other two British officers, Bolitho guessed it was a well-known one. Winstanley looked faintly amused, while Fitzmaurice appeared to be attentively bored.
"We are a safeguard of considerable affairs, gentlemen, and it is the deployment and use of our available resources which is far more valuable than any brief devil-may-care skirmish!"
At that moment de Block entered by a small side door, a chart under his arm. He nodded to the commodore and then unrolled the chart across the others on the table.
Pelham-Martin frowned slightly and dabbed his forehead with a silk handkerchief. "As I was saying, Lequiller has been found, is that not so?"
De Block was filling a long pipe with tobacco, his single hand doing all the functions like a wiry brown animal.
"It is so." He rapped the chart with the pipe stem. "My schooner spoke with a West Indiaman four days ago. She wished to land one of her officers who was suffering from fever and made to put into here," the pipe stem paused and the officers around the table craned forward as one, "the port of Las Mercedes on the Spanish Main. But they were refused entry."
Pelham-Martin said, "Only two hundred miles west of Caracas and yet the Captain-General knew nothing about them!"
De Block eyed him wryly. "Two hundred miles in distance maybe, but in that country it is like ten times that amount." He sighed. "But no matter, the West Indiaman's master reported seeing several ships-of-war at anchor."
Captain Mulder said, "This Lequiller has chosen well. It is a…" he groped for the word, "… a barren place."
Bolitho was on his feet and leaning over the chart. "I have heard of it. Once the haunt of pirates. A good anchorage, and easy to defend by sea or overland." He circled the craggy coastline with his finger. "It has a bay very like we have here, but according to the chart there is a wide river which protects it from any inland assault."