He said in a hoarse whisper, 'The guilt is as plain as day on your face!'
Parns thought he had misheard. 'I met the lady once, but -'
'Don't you dare to speak of her in my presence1' Haven lurched to his feet. 'You with your soft tongue and manners to match, just the sort she'd listen to1'
'Sir. Please say nothing more. We may both regret it.'
Haven did not appear to be listening. 'You took her when I was occupied in this ship1 I worked myself sick pulling this damned rabble into one company. Then they hoisted the flag of a man much like you, I suspect, who thinks he can have any woman he chooses1'
'I can't listen, sir. It is not true anyway. I saw -' He hesitated and finished, 'I did not touch her, I swear to God!'
Haven said in a small voice, 'After all that I gave her.'
'You are wrong, sir.' Parns looked at the door. Someone must come surely? The whole poop must hear Haven's rantmgs.
Haven shouted suddenly, 'It's your child, you bloody animal!'
Parns clenched his fists. So that was it. He said, 'I am leaving now, sir. I will not listen to your insults or your insinuations. And as far as your wife is concerned, all I can say is that I am sorry for her.' He turned to go as Haven screamed, 'You'll go nowhere, God damn you1'
The roar of the pistol in the confined space was deafening. It was like being struck by an iron bar. Then Parns felt the pain, the hot wetness of blood even as he hit the deck.
He saw the darkness closing in. It was like smoke or fog, with just one clear space in it where the captain was trying to ram another charge into his pistol.
Before the pain bore him into oblivion Parns's agonised mind was able to record that Haven was laughing. Laughing as if he could not stop.
14. For Or Against
It was early morning on a fine June day when Bolitho rehoisted his flag above Hyperion, and prepared his squadron to leave the Rock.
During Firefly's speedy passage to Gibraltar, Bolitho and Keen had had much to discuss. If Keen had been unsettled at being made flag captain of a squadron he knew nothing about he barely showed it, while for Bolitho it was the return of a friend; like being made whole again.
At the commodore's request he had visited Haven at the place where he was being confined ashore. He had expected him to be in a state of shock, or at least ready to offer something in the way of a defence for shooting Parris down in cold blood.
A garrison doctor had told Bolitho that Haven either did not remember, or did not care about what had happened.
He had risen as Bolitho had entered his small room and had said, The ship is ready, Sir Richard. I took steps to ensure that old or not, Hyperion will match her artillery against any Frenchman when called to!'
Bolitho had said, 'You are relieved. I am sending you to England.'
Haven had stared at him. 'Relieved? Has my promotion been announced?'
Upon returning to the ship Bolitho had been handed a letter addressed to Haven, which had just been brought by a mail schooner from Spithead. Under the circumstances Bolitho decided to open it; he might at least be able to spare someone in England the bitter truth about Haven, until the facts were released at his inevitable court-martial.
Afterwards, Bolitho was not certain he should have read it. The letter was from Haven's wife. It stated in an almost matter-of-fact fashion that she had left him to live with a wealthy mill-owner who was making uniforms for the military, where she and her child would be well cared for.
It seemed that the mill-owner was the father of the child, so it was certainly not Parris's. When Haven eventually came to his senses, if he ever did, that would be the hardest cross to bear.
The first lieutenant must be born lucky, Bolitho thought. The pistol ball had lifted too much in the short range of the cabin, and had embedded itself in his shoulder and chipped the bone. He must have suffered terrible agony as Minchin had sought to probe it out. But the shot had been intended for his heart.
Keen had asked Bolitho, 'Do you wish to keep him aboard? The wound will take weeks to heal, and I fear it was roughly treated.' He had probably been remembering how a great splinter had speared into his groin; rather than allow him to face the torture of a drunken surgeon, it had been Allday who had cut the jagged wood away.
'He is an experienced officer. I have hopes for his promotion. God knows we can use some skilled juniors for command.'
Keen had agreed. 'It will certainly put the other lieutenants on their mettle!'
And so with mixed feelings the squadron sailed and headed east into the Mediterranean, the sea which had seen so many battles, and where Bolitho had almost died.
With Hyperion in the van, Bolitho's flag at the fore, and the other third-rates following astern, heeling steeply to a lively north-westerly, their departure probably roused as much speculation as their arrival. Bolitho watched the Rock's famous silhouette until it was lost in haze. The strange cloud of steam rising against an otherwise clear sky was a permanent feature when the wind cooled the overheated stones, so that from a distance it appeared like a smouldering volcano.
Most of Hyperion's company had grown used to one another since the ship had commissioned, and Keen was almost the only stranger amongst them.
As day followed day, and each ship exercised her people at sail or gun drill, Bolitho was thankful for the fates which had brought Keen back to him.
Unlike Haven, he did know Bolitho's ways and standards, had served him both as a midshipman and lieutenant before eventually becoming his flag captain. The ship's company seemed to sense the bond between their captain and admiral, and the older hands would note and appreciate that if Keen did not know something about his ship he was not too proud to ask. It never occurred to Bolitho that Keen had perhaps learned it from him.
It had been sad to part with Firefly, but she had bustled on to deliver more despatches to admirals and captains who were eagerly awaiting the latest news of the French. Amongst Firefly's mountain of despatches there would doubtless be a few like the one which Haven had still not read. War was as cruel in the home as it was on the high seas, he thought.
When he met with Adam again his promotion would have been confirmed. It seemed strange to consider it. He could imagine what they would think and say at Falmouth when the latest Captain Bolitho came home. Unless Adam eventually met and married the girl of his choice, he would be the last captain to arrive at the house in Cornwall.
He often thought of Catherine and their farewell. They had shared their passion and love equally, and she had insisted that she accompany him all the way to Portsmouth to board the little Firefly. Keen had said his own goodbyes earlier when he had gone to Portsmouth with Adam in another carriage.
With the horses stamping and steaming in the sunshine Catherine had clung to him, searching his face, touching it with tenderness and then dismay when Allday had told them the boat was waiting at the sally port.
He had asked her to wait by the carriage but she had followed him to the wooden stairs where so many sea-officers had left the land. There had been a small crowd watching the ships and the officers being pulled out to them.
Bolitho had noticed that there were very few of the age for service. It would be a fool who risked the press gang's net if he had no stomach for the fight.
The people had raised a cheer, and some of them recognised Bolitho, as well they might.
One had shouted, 'Good luck, Equality Dick, an' to yer lady as well!'
He had faced her and he had seen tears for the first time.