He stood up. Abruptly, like most of his gestures and words.
"I will read your full report, and discuss it with the governor.
The next move will be…" He frowned as the flag lieutenant appeared at the door. "What is it now?"
"You have a meeting withЦ"
Carrick waved him into silence. "Slipped me mind, dammit!"
He turned toward Adam just as easily.
"We will meet again soon. You will be informed. "He held out his hand. "Now, I am certain you have a great deal to do."
It was a dismissal, and Adam was glad of it. Carrick called after him, "Your boat's crew should be well rested by now for their pull back to Onward, don't you think?"
He strode from the cabin, the flag lieutenant hard put to keep up with him.
"I sometimes wonder why I worry myself sick, when…"
He broke off. It was not the lieutenant's fault.
Two seamen seemed to be waiting for them. One of them, a bosun's call hanging around his neck, blurted, "Cap'n Bolitho, sir? You won't remember me, but…"
Adam reached out impetuously and gripped his arm.
"Logan. Spike Logan. You were with me in Unrivalled. Maintop."
The man and his companion were both grinning and nodding, and some others were loitering nearby, listening.
They walked on toward the entry port, where the side-party was waiting. The flag lieutenant spoke at last, in an undertone, touching his hat.
"Now you know why, sir."
Adam climbed down the side and stepped into the gig, which was already in position, as if it had never moved. He looked around at the crew, sitting smartly upright, arms folded, as if the flagship, towering over them like a cliff, did not exist.
His eyes met Jago's and he smiled, surprised that it came so easily.
"No squalls, Luke. "He sat down facing the stroke oarsman.
"Not yet, anyway."
Jago tilted his hat slightly against the reflected glare.
"After what we done? "He said no more. There was a faint smell of rum on his breath.
Then, "Shove off, forrard! "He could see faces watching from the high poop with the gilded gingerbread he remembered so well from their arrival here. The flagship's officers. What the hell do they care? "Out oars!"
He counted the seconds, standing with his fingers just touching the tiller bar, as if unconcerned. He contained a grin. If only they knew. "Give way together!"
He waited until he could see Onward's masts, almost delicate against a big two-decker nearby, and eased the tiller until they had moved into line. Then he sat down and watched the stroke, the captain's gold epaulette near enough to touch.
He tasted the grog on his lips. It was good to have mates.
He looked away. Even in a flagship.
Lieutenant James Squire walked aft from the companion ladder, his eyes still dazzled by the sun and the vivid panorama of the harbour. He had visited Gibraltar several times in different ships, but he never grew tired of its life and colour.
Within minutes, or so it seemed, of dropping anchor and the captain's departure in response to the usual impatient signal, Onward had been hemmed in by boats ready to sell, buy or steal anything available. The master-at-arms and a full squad of marines had their work cut out to keep the decks clear of invaders, however friendly they might appear.
He had heard the boatswain telling some of the youngsters, "If you gets to step ashore, keep yer "ands on yer money belt, or it'll go. They can take a tattoo off a man's skin and "e wouldn't feel it! "From what he had heard, old Josh Guthrie would be one of the first ashore. He could take care of himself.
Morgan the cabin servant stood facing him by an open gunport. Even that was guarded by a spread of netting.
"Do you wish to see the captain, sir? "Self-possessed as always, but sweating slightly. "He is very hard-pressed just now, only returned aboard a moment ago."
Squire said patiently, "It's my watch. received him on board, remember?"
Morgan let out a sign. "My apologies, sir. We are busy, too."
Squire stared through the open doors, and beyond the sentry who was peering past the companion ladder, as if he expected to see some intruder trying to reach the lower deck without being seized.
"Guardboat just brought some mail. Mostly official, had to be signed for. "He looked again at the cabin. "So I must…"
The purser and one of his assistants were there, unrolling a mass of documents, and Prior the clerk, with a ledger almost as big as himself, was edging his way toward the captain. Even the surgeon was present. But it was nothing serious; he was laughing at something the coxswain, Jago, was telling him.
The captain had seen him.
"Mail, James? I saw the guardboat pulling away. I wondered.
Squire carried the canvas bag into the cabin. wondered, too. We always do. And hope.
They walked aft together. The stern windows were open and the shutters drawn, the wind warm but refreshing. There was haze closer inshore, and dust from the town. Everything else was dwarfed by the Rock.
"I had to sign for these, sir."
But the captain had not heard him. Adam was not listening.
A heavy sealed envelope, the contents probably written or dictated weeks ago. am directed by my lords commissioners of Admiralty… And one bearing the familiar anchor and crossed swords, put aboard a courier in Plymouth. The admiral's seal was still bright in the filtered sunlight.
He put them on the bench seat and picked up an envelope uncluttered by seals or official sanctions.
As if the cabin was suddenly empty, the view astern from these windows quite still.
She was here, with him. Like coming alive, all tiredness gone. He touched it again. So many miles, days, weeks.
Always waiting.
Vicary the purser said, "If you could just glance at these, sir.
They will require your approval before I take them ashore."
Adam laid the letter on the bench seat and reached for the knife Morgan had placed where he could see it.
"A moment. "He slit open the heavy envelope and glanced across each separate section. He could still recall his first command, and the introduction to documents like these; it had been like reading a foreign language. It seemed a long time ago.
He looked at the date, and the perfect script. Official, enclosing a shorter letter, its contents very much to the point.
He remembered the face behind the writing, one of the admiral's aides at Plymouth.
More voices. Vincent was here now; he had been occupied with a supply lighter when Adam had returned from Tenacious.
"I'm a bit adrift, sir. "He hesitated. "Is something wrong?"
Adam folded the letter.
"Midshipman Huxley. Where is he, d "you know?"
"Lowering the jolly-boat, sirЦ I've watched him do it before. I thought.
"I want to see him immediately. This concerns his father."
Vincent lowered his voice. "The court martial, sir?"
"Not guilty. "He wanted to hit out, smash something. Prevent this from happening. "They were too late. He was found dead in his quarters. Hanged himself."
Vincent said, "I'll fetch him. I have always found him easy enough to talk to. "He faltered. "It's no use, is it, sir?"
Adam picked up the other letter. Her letter. Later…
'Thank you, Mark. But he is one of my officers. "He turned and faced the others. "If you will excuse me, the first lieutenant can deal with the issue of signatures."
They filed out of the cabin and Vincent closed the door as they left. The surgeon had been the last to leave.
"If you need me? "He knew, or guessed.
Morgan had been waiting by his pantry, sensing the change in atmosphere, wanting to do something. This was his place.
But he gathered up the empty glasses and headed for the screen. He would be ready when called. And the captain would know it.
Adam stood by the open stern window and saw another boat pulling slowly beneath the counter, some one holding up shawls or bright clothing, undeterred by shouts from the deck.
It was hot, and he was still wearing the dress uniform coat in which he had boarded the flagship.