He added, "What was your true reason?"
Probyn led the way aft to his quarters. "I am badly short of hands, sir. I had to sail from England before I was given a fair chance of recruitment, otherwise… "
Bolitho stared at him. "And you sent a party into an American ship to press some of her people?"
Probyn paused and regarded him resentfully. "It is well known that hundreds, many hundreds, of our seamen desert to the American flag each year. "
Bolitho did know it, and it was a very sore point indeed on both sides of the Atlantic. The British Government had stated that they considered any seamen to be fair-game for a short-handed naval vessel, unless the American captains in question carried certificates of citizenship for all their people who were so entitled.
The American President, on the other hand, was equally firm. He had demanded that once a man was signed into an American ship that was evidence enough the man was American. Documents could be destroyed or ignored. The American flag could not.
He said, "We heard gunfire, too."
Probyn thrust past a marine sentry and answered, "The Yankee refused to heave-to even after a warning shot. I’ll not take that from anyone." He hesitated in the small lobby to the cabin. "I have her master aboard, under guard, sir." He sounded suddenly apprehensive. "Now that you are here, I suppose I had best hand him over to you?"
Bolitho watched him coldly. "Take me to him."
The barquentine" s master was seated in the stern cabin with one of Probyn's senior midshipmen for company. He stood up and eyed Bolitho with obvious surprise.
'so there is some higher authority, eh?" He had a soft accent", but it failed to conceal his anger.
I am Richard Bolitho, Commodore of this British squadron." He walked to the windows, adding, "I have been hearing about your refusal to heave-to."
The American retorted hotly, "Heave-to be damned! I’ve a hard enough living to earn without being fired on by a bloody Englishman! "
Bolitho sat down and looked at him. A sturdy man with a neat brown beard, the Santa Paula 's master was about his own age.
"And your name?"
"Cap"n John Thurgood." He glared at him. "Of New Bedford."
"Well, Captain Thurgood." He smiled. "Of New Bedford. The shortage of seamen is a constant worry for a King's officer in time of war."
Thurgood sat down, ignoring Probyn completely.
"That will have to remain your problem, Commodore. I am not at war, and my hands are not for King George." He.relaxed slightly. "My government will make the strongest protest and take all the action needed once I have laid my complaint. "
Bolitho nodded. "That is your privilege, Captain. But you know as well as I that some of your crew will be no more American than Westminster Abbey." He held up one hand. "And I know what you will say to that. No matter. You are obviously a shrewd man, and I see no value in our arguing." He stood up. "I shall have you returned to your fine barquentine, Captain, and I will send you a gift of some excellent cheese which I brought from England. I hope it will ease if not remove the hurt we have done you."
Thurgood was on his feet. "You mean I can go?" He stared from Bolitho to Probyn" s fuming face with amazement… "Well, I’ll be… "
Bolitho added evenly, "Your cargo, Captain? May I enquire what it is?"
Thurgood replied, "Cheap red wine. A full hold of the stuff. In my home port they"d use it for paint!" He chuckled, his eyes vanishing into craw's feet. "By God, you sure know how to scatter a man's anger!"
Probyn exclaimed, "I must protest!"
Bolitho said calmly, "Please leave us, Captain Probyn. And tell your midshipman to go away. I am not in danger of my life." He smiled at the American. "Am I?"
Thurgood grinned after the retreating Probyn. "By God, I’m glad you came, Commodore. I think he"d have liked me kicking at his mainyard."
"He was a prisoner in the last war."
Thurgood shrugged. 'so was I."
Bolitho picked up his hat. "There is one thing, Captain. You sailed from Marseilles, no doubt." He shook his head. "It is not a trap. But it is unlikely you would have taken on a cargo like yours elsewhere. And you are bound for?"
Thurgood watched him with amusement. " Corfu. Then I’m off and away, back home to New Bedford. I’ve a wife and three boys there. "
"I envy you." Bolitho did not see the look of warmth on the other man's face. "I have a Spanish prize in company. We took her a while back." He looked Thurgood in the eye. "Now, if you were to exchange some of your seamen for, say, double the number of Spaniards." He watched the man's mind working busily. "Well, I’d have thought you could drop them off when you return westward after you have delivered your cargo? I am certain the Spanish authorities would be very glad to reward you."
Thurgood sounded doubtful, "I ain"t sure."
Bolitho smiled. "And they would not have to be paid. Nor would you have to share your profit with a larger crew than you need for the homeward voyage."
Thurgood thrust out his hand. "If ever you need employment, Commodore, and I mean ever, just come asking for me." He shook his hand warmly. "I’ve got a few bully- boys you can have. Trained seamen." but I will not miss them."
Bolitho smiled. "I dare say they will settle down."
On deck it was oppressively hot, and the wind was rising and falling in gusts, making the ships lurch and stagger in a sickening motion.
Bolitho beckoned to Probyn. "Make a signal to Lysander. I want the prize, Segura to close with us. After that, send a good officer across to the Santa Paula with Captain Thurgood. He will explain what is needed."
Probyn looked as if he would burst. "If you say so, sir!" Bolitho smiled at the American. "When they are ready, I will hail for my coxswain to bring a good ripe cheese across to you. It might make even cheap wine palatable."
Thurgood watched a boat being lowered from the quarter davits.
"I’ll be off then, Commodore." He studied him curiously.
"Bolitho, eh? We had a privateersman of that name in the war."
"My brother." Bolitho looked away. "But he is dead now." Thurgood held out his hand. "Good luck with whatever you intend. I shall tell my wife and sons about this meeting." He grinned. "An" the cheese."
A lieutenant strode across the quarterdeck and touched his hat.
"Jolly boat's at the chains, sir."
Thurgood made to leave but hung back, his face set in a frown.
"I want no part of this, or any other war. I’ve had a bellyfull." He dropped one eyelid in a wink. "But if I was in charge of a force as weak as yours I’d be thinking very seriously of hauling off."
Bolitho tried to conceal his excitement. His anxiety. "You would?"
Thurgood grinned. "I’m told there's a fleet at Toulon, and three hundred transports for good measure. "
"Thank you, Captain." Bolitho walked with him to the rail. "And a safe voyage to you also."
He waited until Thurgood was in the boat and then said, 'send for my barge." A fleet and three hundred transports. It was an armada. Probyn's voice cut into his racing thoughts. "I must lodge the strongest protest! I was humiliated in front of that Yankee!"