Free Signal Close Action by Alexander Kent Page B

gruel and greasy lumps of boiled meat, left-overs from the midday meal, were enough to revolt him against eating anything.
    Herrick appeared through the cabin hatch and crossed the deck.
    ‘I 've told Mr. Gilchrist to muster all officers and senior warrants in the wardroom after eight bells, sir.' He hesitated, seeking out Bolitho's mood in the gloom. 'They're looking forward to meeting you very much.'
    'Thank you, Thomas.'
    He turned slightly as a bosun's mate ran along the starboard gangway, followed by various other members of his watch.
    A ship's boy was inspecting the flickering compass light, another the hour-glass nearby. Two stiff marines swayed gently at attention as they suffered a close scrutiny by their corporal. How black their red coats looked in the darkness, Bolitho thought. Made more so by their gleaming crossbelts and breeches. They were the sentries. One for Herrick's quarters. One for his own.
    The master was rumbling away to a midshipman. The latter seemed bent almost double to write something on his slate, the pencil very loud in the clammy stillness.
    The newly arrived lieutenant straightened himself away from the rail and touched his hat formally.
    'The watch is aft, Mr. Fitz-Clarence.'
    Fitz-Clarence nodded. 'Relieve the wheel, if you please, Mr. Kipling.'
    More grunts and shuffles, and then a helmsman called, 'Course east-be-north, sir! Steady as she goes!''
    Grubb sniffed noisily. 'And so it should be! I'll be back on deck afore the glass is turned!' It sounded like a threat.
    Bolitho shivered. 'I'm ready, Thomas.'
    He heard the bell chime out from forward, a gust of laughter as a topman slithered down a backstay nearly knocking another to the deck.
    They walked to the cabin hatch and Herrick said, 'The fact that the wind has backed to the west'rd makes me think Mr. Grubb is right. We will have an easier task to drive inshore than I'd thought possible.'
    Down the ladder and past a seaman carrying a biscuit sack from the wardroom. He pressed his shoulders against a cabin door as if afraid he might hinder or touch either commodore or captain.
    Bolitho saw the lantern light playing across the breeches of the nearest guns. Some of the ship's twenty-eight eighteen-pounders, yet they managed to look at peace. It was hard to picture them enveloped in smoke and powder, bursting inboard on their tackles as their cheering, noise-crazed crews sponged-out for another broadside.
    Further aft he saw the bright rectangle of the wardroom door, and beyond it the movement of Lysander's officers, and every available man of warrant rank, too, who could be spared from duty on deck.
    Herrick paused and said uncertainly, 'It seems a long time since a wardroom was my home.'
    Bolitho looked at him. 'And mine. When I was twenty I thought that life became easy when you were promoted captain. I soon learned differently. And now I know that each span of authority has its snares, as well as its privilege.'
    Herrick nodded. 'More the former than the latter, in my opinion.'
    Bolitho tugged his coat into place, the movement involuntary and unnoticed. Herrick had not mentioned Adam or any part of the cutting-out since his return aboard. But he guessed it was rarely absent from his thoughts. He remembered when Pascoe had served with Herrick as a midshipman aboard his little two-decker, Impulsive. It was strange how he had felt about it. Jealous perhaps? Afraid that the boy's trust in Herrick might change to something closer than he himself could offer ?
    It all came surging up again, like a demon which had been biding its time.
    Like the moment when he had arrived at Gibraltar, which should have been the proudest time in his service. Hearing about Adam's gesture on his behalf, risking disgrace or maiming in a forbidden duel.
    There must be something deep in our family, he thought bitterly. With little training or effort, so many of them had proved unnaturally skilful with the sword. He could recall exactly standing face to face with