Allday sighed and shook his head doubtfully. Like Herrick, all he wanted was to protect Bolitho, no matter from whence, or from what the danger came. But he could not shield him from himself, and the enormity of this discovery was very worrying.
To his surprise and annoyance Bolitho was greeted at the pier by a very young officer in the red tunic and facings of the infantry.
He touched his hat in reply as the-boy saluted smartly and said, 'Ensign Cowper, sir, of the 91st Foot.' He swallowed hard beneath Bolitho's unsmiling gaze and added awkwardly, 'I have brought a horse, sir. I-I thought it would make the journey easier.'
Bolitho nodded. 'That was thoughtful.' He had wanted to make the journey to the fortress on foot. To give him time to think. To clear his mind and plan what he was going to say.
The ensign saw his indecision and said helpfully, 'If you cannot ride I will lead the beast by the reins, sir.'
Bolitho studied him coldly and replied, 'A sea officer I may be, Mr. Cowper, but I am also a Cornishman. Horses are not unknown in my country!' With all the dignity he could muster he heaved himself into the saddle of the dozing animal, watched with both admiration and awe by his barge crew and the ensign's orderly.
They trotted slowly up the dirt road, each jolt of the hooves causing fresh agony in Bolitho's bandaged arm. He forced himself to take an interest in the surrounding scenery, if only to take his mind off himself and his discomfort. The road was deserted but for a listless sentry, with nothing left to mark the havoc wrought by the carronade or the jubilant onslaught of Ashby's marines.
As they turned the bend in the road he saw the fortress, and spread away across the bleached hillside the neat rows of military tents.
He said, 'I suppose that you are eager to join the rest of your people in St. Clar?'
The young ensign twisted easily in his saddle and looked at him with surprise. 'I do not quite know what is to happen yet, sir.'
Bolitho stared at the fortress. 'Well, I hope your commanding officer is better informed.'
Cowper grinned, unabashed by the sarcasm. 'But, sir, I am the commanding officer!'
Bolitho reined the horse to a halt and faced the ensign across the road. 'You are what?'
Cowper's grin vanished and he shifted uncomfortably under Bolitho's fierce stare. `Well, that is to say, sir. I am the only officer here.'
Bolitho pointed at the tents. 'And you command all these men on your own? For God's sake, what are you saying?
The boy spread his hands. 'Well, actually, sir, there are, only twenty men and a sergeant. The tents are there just in case some French frigate comes spying for information.' He sighed. 'I command an empty camp so to speak!'
Bolitho felt the horse swaying beneath him as he grappled with Cowper's crazy explanation. 'No reinforcements for St. Clar? Nothing at all?'
'None, sir. I received word from Lord Hood two days back. A brig came here from Toulon.' He flicked the reins as Bolitho nudged his horse forward. again. 'My orders are to stand guard here untill further notice. Also to increase and extend the existing camp as much as possible.' He hurried on as if fearful of what Bolitho would say. 'We cut up every piece of canvas we could find. Old sails, matting, anything. My chaps just march about relighting camp-fires and keeping an eye on the convicts.' His slim shoulders dropped slightly. 'It's all very upsetting, sir.'
Bolitho looked at him with sudden compassion. Just a boy. He could not have been commissioned long enough to have seen active service, yet he was given a task which would have made others, years senior to him, grey before their time.
He said, 'So the war goes badly at Toulon?'
Cowper nodded. 'It seems so. Lord Hood had two regiments with him there, but they cannot do much more than contain the town and hold the forts around it. It appears that many of the French who were thought to be loyal to the Royalist cause have deserted to the other side.'
'And there will be no men to spare for St. Clar.' Bolitho spoke his thoughts aloud. 'But no doubt the matter is in hand.'
Cowper sounded doubtful. 'It is to be hoped so, sir.'
In silence they trotted across the wooden bridge above the steep ditch with its cruel-looking stakes, and on through the open gates of the fortress. A solitary soldier paced the ramparts beside the battery and another ran to take the horses. Apart from them the only other living person to be seen was a half-naked man tied to the wheel of a gun-carriage, his skin raw from the probing sun, his mouth open and twitching piteously in the glare.
Cowper said unhappily, 'A defaulter, sir. My sergeant says that it is the only way to punish him.' He turned away. 'I suppose that discipline must be enforced by such means.'
Bolitho said, 'Field punishment is all very well when you have an army at your back, Mr. Cowper. I suggest you tell your sergeant that even a bad soldier will be more use than a dead one if you are attacked!'
Cowper nodded firmly. 'Thank you, sir. I will tell him.'
Once inside the round tower the air was cool, even icy after the furnace heat of the compound, and as Bolitho followed the ensign up the narrow stone stairs he remembered that other time, when this small space had been filled with musketsmoke and the screams and curses of dying men.
The quarters, occupied over the years by one commandant after another, were grim and characterless. The main room which overlooked the headland was curved to the shape of the tower, and its narrow, deepcut windows shone like brightly painted pictures of another world. There were a few rush carpets, and here and there he saw some of the plain but well-shaped furniture made by the Hyperion's carpenters. They were the only real signs of human habitation worth considering.
A small studded door opened to one side and the girl, followed by her brother and Midshipman Piper, entered the room.
Cowper said, 'Captain Bolitho is here to see you, ma'am.' He looked meaningly at the midshipmen. `If you will accompany me I will show you the rest of the, er, fortress.'
Seton said, 'I am sorry I-I was n -not at the pier t-to meet you, s-sir.'
Bolitho replied vaguely, 'I was not expecting you.'
He watched the girl as she walked to one of the windows. She was wearing a loose white dress, and her rich chestnut hair hung across her shoulders untied and unchecked.
As the others left the room she said quietly, 'You are welcome, Captain.' Her eyes dropped to his empty sleeve. 'I heard from my brother what happened. It must have been horrible.'
Bolitho felt strained. 'He did well, Miss Seton. His own wound was bad enough, even for a seasoned man.'
She did not seem to hear. 'When I -saw him with his bandaged arm I think I nearly hated you. He's such a boy. He was never meant for this sort of life.' Her eyes flashed in the sunlight and seemed to match the green water below the headland. 'I suppose that is quite natural. But as I listened to him I came to realise that he is changed. Oh how he is changed!' She looked directly into Bolitho's face. 'And all he can talk about is you, did you know that?'
Bolitho did not know what to say. All his carefully rehearsed words had flown as soon as she had entered the room. He said clumsily, 'That, too, is natural. When I was his age I thought much the same of my captain.'
She smiled for the first time. 'I am glad that you at least have not changed, Captain. Sometimes in the cool of an evening I walk along the rampart and think back to that voyage from Gibraltar.' Her eyes were distant. 'I can even smell the ship and hear the thunder of those terrible guns.'
'And now I have come to take you to St. Clar.' The words seemed to stick in his throat. `But I imagine you were expecting a ship?'