Alexander Kent - Sloop Of War

At the end of three long weeks, and with each day adding to his frustration, Bolitho decided to wait nQ

more. He called Tyrrell to the cabin and unrolled his chart?

"We will close with the shore at daylight tomorrows Jethro. The wind is still strong, but I see no other choice."

Tyrrell let his eyes move across the chart. The approaches to Rhode Island were always a problem with a prevailing westerly wind. To be caught in a full gale might mean being driven eastwards again, and once within the jaws of the mainland and Newport itselb there would be little room for manoeuvre. Under normal conditions it required patience and understanding. But with the French in control of the area it was something else entirely?

As if reading his thoughts, Bolitho said quietly, "I'd not wish to be caught on a lee shore. But if we stay out here in open water, we might as well admit failure."

"Aye." Tyrrell straightened his back." I doubt the Frogs'll have much in th' way of ships anyway. They depend on their batteries to defend themselves."

Bolitho smiled, some of the strain slipping from his face." Good. Pass the word. I'll want the very best eyes at the mastheads tomorrow."

But true to Buckle's gloomy prediction, the next morning was something of a disappointment. The ska was clouded over and the wind which made the topsails bluster and crack despite their trim, told there was rain nearby. And yet the air felt sultry and oppressive, affecting the hands as they went to their stations for changing tack. The welcome stay in harbour, followed by the nervous uncertainty ob thrashing this way and that at the wind's discretion, had taken their toll. There were plenty of curses and not a few blows from boatswain's mates before Sparrow laid herself over on the larboard tack, her plunging beakhead pointing towards the shore once again?

A grey day. Bolitho gripped the weather nettings and mopped his forehead with his shirt-sleeve. His skin and clothing were wringing wet, as much from sweat as from flying spray?

Only Majendie seemed content to remain on decks willingly, his pencil busy, his thin body and jutting beard dripping with moisture?

"Land ho! Fine on the weather bow!"

Bolitho tried not to show his satisfaction and relief? With the dull visibility and blustery wind you could not be too secure with mere calculations. He looked up at the masthead pendant. The wind had backed slightly? He stared at the pendant until his eyes watered. There was no doubt about it. Good for a steady approach? Not so comforting if they had to turn and run." Bring her up a point, Mr. Buckle."

"Aye, aye, sir."

Buckle dabbed his face with a handkerchief before passing his orders. He would be well aware of the difficulties, Bolitho thought. There was no sanity in worrying him further?

To Majendie he said, "I hope you are getting it all down. You will make your fortune when you return to England."

Buckle yelled, "Nor' nor'-east, sir! Full an' bye!"

"Very good. Hold her so."

Bolitho walked a couple of paces and thought of the girl in New York. What would she think of him nowt Crumpled and soaked to the skin, his shirt more patches than original cloth. He smiled to himself, no?

seeing Majendie's pencil as it recorded his mood?

Tyrrell limped up the deck and joined him by the nettings?

"I reckon that Newport is 'bout five miles off the starboard bow, sir." He looked up with surprise as a shaft of watery sunlight played across the bucking hull like a lantern beam." Hell, you can never tell in these waters."

"Deck thar! Ships at anchor to the nor'-east!"

Tyrrell rubbed his hands." Frogs may be assembling a convoy. Our inshore squadron'll catch 'em if we carra th' word fast enough."

The lookout yelled again." Six, no, eight sail-o'-the-line, sir!"

Graves staggered from the rail as Sparrow lurched sickeningly into a deep trough?

"The man's mad!" He spluttered as spray burst above the nettings and cascaded over him like hail." E couple of frigates at most, if you ask me!"

Bolitho tried to ignore the buzz of speculation and

doubt around him. De Grasse had a powerful fleet in the West Indies, that was well known. His subordinates de Barras, who commanded at Newport, had no such strength. His usefulness was placed in frigates and smaller craft and in quick forays against British coastal trade. De Barras had made one attempt to challenge the New York forces off Cape Henry earlier in the years but the action had been desultory and ineffective. He had retired to his defences and had remained there?

He said, "Aloft with you, Mr. Graves. Tell me what you see."

Graves hurried to the shrouds muttering, "That fool? Can't be ships-of-the-line. Can't be."

Bolitho stared after him. Graves was acting very strangely. It was as if he dreaded what he might discover. Afraid? No. That seemed unlikely. He had been aboard long enough to know the risks and rewards of the game?

"Deck there!" It was another seaman clinging high above the mizzen yard." Sail on the larboard quarter!"

"Damn!" Tyrrell snatched a telescope and hurried with it to the taffrail?

Mist and spray, the distance made worse by Sparrow's drunken motion, it took time to find the newcomer?

Tyrrell snapped, "Frigate. No doubt, sir."

Bolitho nodded. The other ship was clawing close inshore, coming around the jutting headland with every available sail set to the wind?

Buckle cupped his hands." Stand by to come about!"

"Belay that!" Bolitho's voice held the master motionless." We have got this far. Let us see what there is to see and then run."

Graves came lurching from the gangway, his shirt torn from his rapid descent?

He gasped, "He was right, sir. Eight of the line? Maybe two frigates, and a whole clutter of supply ships anchored closer in."

Bolitho thought of his talk with Farr at Sandy Hooks his own reaction at seeing the British two-deckers nearby. Waiting, he had thought, but for what? And were these Frenchmen doing likewise?

Tyrrell said, "Can't be none of de Grasse's ships, sir? Our patrols, even blind ones, would've seen 'em!"

Bolitho met his stare." I agree. It's a gathering for something. We must inform the admiral directly."

Buckle shouted, "Frigate closing fast, sir. Less than three miles, by my reckoning."

Bolitho nodded." Very well, run up French colourss and prepare to come about."

The flag rose swiftly to the gaff, to be greeted by an immediate blast of cannon from the frigate's forecastle?

Bolitho smiled grimly." He is not deceived. So hoist our own, if you please."

Buckle crossed to Bolitho's side, his features screwed tight with worry?

"I think maybe we would wear ship, sir. That Frenchman'll be up to us afore we knows it otherwise."

Bolitho shook his head." We would lose too much time. The frigate might chase us all the way to Nantucket or run us aground." He swung on Graves?

"Clear away the bowchasers. Load but do not run out.l He clapped him on the forearm, seeing him start with alarm." Lively, man! Or Mr. Frenchman'll be aboard for grog!"

Men scampered wildly to their stations, some pausing only to peer over the hammock nettings at the other ship which was driving purposefully towards the larboard quarter. She was much nearer, but in the bursting spray her hull was almost lost to view. Only her bulging courses and topsails displayed her captain's eagerness to do battle?

"Ready about!" Bolitho had his hands on his hips as he peered aloft at the slashing pendant." Stand by on the quarterdeck!"

"Put the helm down!" He felt the deck stagger, and wondered how Sparrow would appear to the enemy? Running? Preparing to fight?

He almost fell as the ship heeled and tilted still further to the thrust of sail and rudder?

"Helm a'lee, sir!" Buckle added his own weight to the wheel?