Alexander Kent - COLOURS ALOFT!

Bolitho wanted to glare at Yovell but said, "Just tell me. Please."

But she stared at him. "But-but I've met the captain?"

Yovell said patiently, "The admiral here commands all the ships, all the captains, Miss, and some two thousand eight hundred jack tars and marines." He watched her gravely. "A big job to do, so speak up an' don't you waste his time, eh?"

Bolitho smiled. "He means well, er, Zenoria, isn't it?"

She looked at her hands in her lap. Then she said, "They took my father, sir. He was a fine man, a clever man too. He believed in people's rights." Her eyes took on a faraway look and Bolitho found he was holding his breath. Just to hear her speak. It was like hearing Cornwall again.

"I saw him hang, sir."

"But why?"

"It was the squire, sir. He came to the house with some of his men and they tried to smash his press. My father soon showed them." Her chin lifted with sudden pride so that she looked all the more vulnerable. "He pulled the squire from his horse, and others came from the village to help him. Someone was killed. Then the dragoons came and took him away."

"How old were you then?"

"Seventeen, sir. That was two years ago. They sent me to Dorset, to work in a big household and help teach the children there."

It was difficult to speak as he wished with Yovell and Allday listening. But he had to be certain she was not lying, not a whore as stated by Orontes' master. It could be dangerous to be alone with her.

"Tell me about what happened in Lyme."

Yovell said severely, "Your warrant will come aboard, my lass, so no use lying about it!"

"For God's sake, man, hold your tongue!" Bolitho saw the girl cringe as if his anger was directed partly at her.

He said, "Fetch her a glass, Allday." He was trying to cover his own confusion. "I must know."

She dropped her eyes. "Everyone knew about my father and what had happened. The master was always touching me, making remarks, telling me how lucky I was to have a roof over my head. Then one day he came to my room." She was beginning to shake. "He tried to-" She took a glass from Allday but did not drink from it. "He forced me to do things-" She looked up, her eyes wild and pleading. "I'd been making some repairs to the children's clothing." She could barely get the words out. "I took the scissors and I stabbed him."

Bolitho stood up and walked slowly behind her chair. It was so clear in her voice. He could almost see it happening.

"And then?"

"He didn't die, sir, but I was sent to the Assizes. You know the rest, sir."

Transportation for life.

"You may return to your cabin, Zenoria." Bolitho looked down at her upturned face. Nineteen years old, but in the midshipman's shirt with her hair tied back she looked like a child.

She stood up and handed her glass to Allday. It was still full.

"That Captain Latimer wanted me too, sir." It was all she needed to say.

"Tomorrow my secretary will help you to write all this down.

I cannot, must not pretend that I can help in this matter." He touched her shoulder and this time she did not flinch. "But I promise you, I shall try."

He turned aft to the windows and waited to hear the door close.

When Allday came back he said simply, "That were kindly done, an' that's no error, sir. She's sobbin' fit to bust now, but it'll do her good."

"You think so?" Bolitho watched the flags soaring up Helicons yards, but saw only the girl's eyes, the pain that was so deeply lodged there. I saw him hang. He thought of the squire who had married his sister Nancy at Falmouth. A rich landowner who had always had his eye on the Bolitho house. Local people called him the King of Cornwall behind his back. But he was good to Nancy even if he was a braggart who lived too well in peace and war. He was also a magistrate, but even he would have recommended mercy rather than deportation. Or would he?

More calls trilled and he knew that the drills were ended for another day.

He watched the door and heard the sentry's heels bang together. Keen entered and exclaimed, "May I speak, Sir Richard?"

Allday and Yovell left the cabin and Keen said, "I have just heard, sir. I regret that you did not feel free to ask me when-"

Bolitho said quietly, "Sit down, Val. We are not going to fight. I saw the girl because of you, not in spite of you."

Keen stared at him. "Me?"

Bolitho gestured to a chair. "She sat there. Now pray do likewise."

Bolitho watched the emotions crossing Keen's features. He had rarely seen Keen angry, but this was different, protective.

He said, "She will have to be put ashore once we anchor. It is only a temporary solution, but I think I can arrange it. From what she has told me and what was left unsaid, I believe there is some hope, if only-"

He broke off as Keen exclaimed, "I can write to my cousin in the City of London. I am sure we can-" He turned and looked at Bolitho, his eyes steady. "It was good of you, sir. I should have understood."

Bolitho poured two glasses of brandy and guessed that Ozzard was pressed against his pantry shutter.

"She has been cruelly used, Val." He let his words drop like shot into a still pool. "Raped, it would seem, and that's just the half of it." He watched the pain in Keen's blue eyes. He had guessed correctly. Bolitho did not know whether it gave him satisfaction or grief.

Keen said quietly, "I have a great affection for her, sir." He looked up, his eyes defiant as if he expected Bolitho to explode.

"I know that, Val. I think I knew that day when you went down to visit her, maybe even earlier." He nodded. "That's settled then."

Keen put down the empty glass although he had barely noticed what he was drinking.

"It's impossible! I am mad even to think of it!"

Bolitho said, "How old are you, Val? Thirty-five or six?"

"A year older than that, sir. And she is just a girl."

"A woman, Val, so remember it, eh? As you get older the gap between you will lessen, not widen." He put his head on one side and smiled at Keen's expression.

Perhaps he had done wrong by both of them. The senior officer or the Governor at Gibraltar might refuse to allow the girl to remain there.

But at least the truth was out and Bolitho found that he was surprisingly lifted by it.

Keen said, "I am deluding myself, sir."

Bolitho touched his arm. "We shall see-" He glanced at the skylight as a lookout's cry floated down from aloft.

A minute later the midshipman-of-the-watch appeared breathless at the door.

"Beg pardon, sir." He stared from Keen to his admiral. "Mr Paget's respects, and we have just sighted a sail, sir."

It was Midshipman Hext, his eyes now moving around the great cabin, doubtless remembering it for another letter.

Bolitho smiled gravely. "And are we to be told where this sail might be, in due course?"

The boy blushed. "I-I'm sorry, Sir Richard. It bears to the sou'-east."

Keen said, "My compliments to the first lieutenant. I shall come up." He still sounded different, as if only half his mind was working on the news.

Bolitho said, "Signal Rapid to investigate." His thoughts clung to that small moment of warmth they had shared and then he said, "Might be news of the French."

Keen's eyes cleared. "Aye, sir." Then he was gone.

But it was to be news of a graver sort.

As the other ship drew closer she was soon identified as the Barracouta. Bolitho took a telescope and joined Keen at the quarterdeck rail to watch as Lapish clawed his way to windward to draw closer to the squadron.

There were men at work on her yards and several of her sails were patched. Even as he watched Bolitho saw a great mass of cordage being hoisted aloft, the work not even faltering as the business of sailing the ship went on.

"She's been in a fight." Keen nodded to his first lieutenant. "Prepare to shorten sail, Mr Paget."