Alexander Kent - With All Despatch

The boat lifted and plunged wildly until Allday had steered her clear of the choppy water around the cutter's quarter. Bolitho saw the White Ensign streaming out from the gaff above his head and thought suddenly of Hugh, his dead brother. What a waste, and for no purpose. He turned to watch the brig's tapering topgallant masts spiralling against the sky and found that he was gripping the old sword closely against his thigh. Hugh had lost his chance to wear it, and now, perhaps within minutes, there would be no one left to carry it with pride. There were faces along the bulwark now, strangely silent, with no sign of defiance or fear.

Paice lifted a speaking trumpet. "We are boarding! Do not resist!"

Allday said beneath his breath, "It'll be now or never. They could make a bloody gruel of us with one whiff of canister, an' that's no error!" He pushed it from his thoughts and shouted, "Bowman! Lively there! Stand by!" He eased the tiller bar and saw the bowman's grapnel soar into the brig's main chains, clatter down and hook on.

"Boat your oars!" Allday supported Bolitho's arm as he crouched ready to leave the pitching boat. He hissed, "Right with you, Cap'n!" He gave a throaty chuckle. "Old times!"

Then they were taking their turn to leap from the boat and scramble their way through the small entry port.

Bolitho glanced quickly around. He saw the vessel's master, a short, neat figure in a fine blue coat standing almost indifferently by the wheel. He knew it was Delaval even before Paice opened his mouth.

Paice had his hanger drawn and strode aft, his voice carrying easily above the slap of canvas and the sea's protests beyond the bulwarks. "Stand where you are!"

Delaval retorted, "So it's you. By what right -"

Paice gestured to a seaman by the wheel and the cutlass he had seen in his belt clattered to the deck.

"In the King's name, so hold your noise." He nodded his head to the petty officer who had accompanied the boat and the man hurried away, calling names, ignoring the brig's sailors as if they were not there.

Paice said, "I intend to search this vessel. After that-"

"You are wasting your time. More important, you are wasting mine." His dark eyes moved suddenly to Bolitho, taking in the plain blue coat, the outdated sword which was still sheathed at Bolitho's side. Delaval said, "I will make the strongest protest. I was going about my lawful business."

Bolitho asked, "What cargo?"

Delaval's eyes flashed. There could have been triumph there. "None. I am in ballast, as your worthy boarding party will soon discover." He did not attempt to hide the sneer in his voice. "I intended to sail for Amsterdam. You will see from the log that I have regular transactions with agents there."

Bolitho could sense Paice's anger and impatience. He asked quietly, "And you changed your mind?"

"The weather, news of more trouble in France, several things."

The petty officer returned but stood so that Delaval could not see his face. He swallowed hard. "Nuthin', sir. In full ballast." He seemed almost afraid of his discovery.

Delaval said, "I told you." He lifted his chin and stared it Paice. "You will pay for this." His arm shot out and he pointed to an inert shape covered by a piece of canvas. He continued, his voice almost caressing, "You fired on my ship-"

Paice snapped, "You tried to run, you refused to heave-to! Don't pretend with me, damn you!"

A seaman pulled the canvas aside and Bolitho saw it was a man in sailor's clothing. Beside him lay a heavy block, its sheaves sticky with blood and hair. The man's forehead and skull had been crushed. Only the features were unmarked.

"I did not try to run away. But as you see, my vessel is short-handed, some of my men are working another. It took twice as long to bring her round and heave-to." He nodded several times. "I shall be certain to mention all this in my complaint to the proper authority!"

Bolitho gripped his sword to his leg again. It was bad luck. The ball must have severed some rigging and allowed the block to fall and kill the man. It happened often enough in any ship, but this could not have occurred at a worse time.

He said, "We shall return to Telemachus, Mr Paice."

Even a bloody hand-to-hand fight would have been better than this, he thought. Lady Luck, as Thomas always called it, had been against them from the beginning. He glanced at Paice and was surprised to see his face was stiffly controlled, his anger apparently gone.

Even when they clambered down to the jolly-boat nobody aboard the brig called out or abused them in any way. Delaval was not going to spoil his victory by putting a foot out of place.

Bolitho did not wait for the boat to be hoisted inboard before going below to the cabin.

He half-listened to the usual bustle and noise of a vessel getting under way once more, the creak of the rudder below the transom, a goblet clattering from the table as the cutter heeled over to the wind. Allday was outside the door, having made certain the boat was safely secured. Poor Allday; he would hate to see him disgraced. He bit his lip. There would be others who would be less displeased when he was sent back to Falmouth.

Paice ducked through the door, his coat still black with spray. It was his command but he waited for Bolitho to ask him to be seated. He looked tired and strained, a different person.

Bolitho did not waste time. "I am sorry. You were right, I was mistaken. I shall see that no blame is attached to you. I ordered the chase-" He lifted his hand heavily as if his sleeve was filled with lead shot. "No, hear me out. I told you to fire into her. It is enough. Perhaps I still thought-"

Paice waited and then said, "No, sir, you were not mistaken. If anyone is to blame it's me for thinking, even for a moment, that Delaval would be stupid enough to be caught so easily."

Bolitho looked across the small cabin with its leaping shadows made by the spiralling lanterns.

"Then tell me, what has changed your mind?"

Paice said calmly, "Delaval knew we were out there, sir. And he needed us to know that he had outwitted us."

"You mean it was all a lie?"

"Not all of it." Paice clenched his fists several times, as if they were detached from the apparent calm he was displaying. "That dead man was never killed by a falling block, sir. That's why the bastard wanted me to see his face."

"You knew him?"

"He was my informant. The one who told me about the run."

"And there's nothing we can do about it."

Paice gave a deep sigh. "Delaval is a Channel Islander by birth. It's rumoured he had to leave Jersey because of his cruelty when he commanded a privateer there."

Bolitho tried to shut out the picture of the vicious mark Tuke had branded on Viola's naked shoulder when he had held her captive. But the picture would not fade, and he could still hear Tuke's sneers as they had circled around each other on Narval' s bloodied deck, their swords seeking an opening.

He heard himself say quietly, "I knew another like that."

Paice watched him for several seconds. "Probably tortured him after they had discovered he was informing on the smugglers. Then murdered him. Or maybe he was trading information to others. Either way they've done for him, and we can't prove a thing." He took a long, deep breath which seemed to come from his shoes.

"So you see, sir, you were right. Loyal Chieftain acted as a decoy for something else, but Delaval couldn't resist putting his own touch to it for my benefit. But one day-" He did not continue. He had no need.

Paice groped his way bent double to the door. "Do you wish to rendezvous with Wakeful, sir?"

Bolitho stared at him. " Wakeful? That's it, by God! Only Wakeful knew I was transferring back to your ship!"