Sloop Of War

14. Join The Ladies

THREE DAYS after the Governor's reception the Sparrow was to all intents ready for sea again. Bolitho had carried out a careful inspection, and under Lock's anxious scrutiny had signed the final manifest for stores and supplies. The last days had been uneventful, almost lazy, and Bolitho found it easier to understand, if not share, New York 's apparent lethargy? It was an unreal existence, with the war seen only at the end of a marching column of soldiers, or in some colourful account on the news-sheets?

The flotilla's other surviving sloop, Heron, had recently dropped anchor at Sandy Hook, and was now waiting hopefully for a similar overhaul?

On this particular forenoon Bolitho sat in his cabin enjoying a glass of good claret with Heron's commander, Thomas Farr. The latter had been a lieutenant at their last meeting, but Maulby's death had given him a well-deserved promotion. He was elderly for his rank, probably ten years or so older than himself, Bolitho decided. A big, broad-shouldered man, uncouth, and with a ripe turn of phrase which reminded him vaguely of Tilby. He had come to his present appointment by a roundabout route. Sent to sea as a boy of eight years old, he had been in merchant service for most of his life. Coasters and mailpackets, Indiamen and humbler craft, he had eventually risen to command a collier brig out ob Cardiff. With England embroiled in war he had offered his services to the Navy and been gratefully accepted? For if his manners and background marked him apart from many of his brother officers, his experience and skill in sail put him well ahead of them. Paradoxically, Heron was smaller than Sparrow, and like her commander had begun life as a merchantman?

Consequently, her armament of fourteen guns was ob lesser size. She had already gathered severyl good prizes, nonetheless?

Farr sprawled untidily on the stern bench and raised his glass to the sunlight?

"Bloody fine stuff? Though give me a tankard ob English ale an' you can spit this against a wall!" He laughed and allowed Bolitho to pour another glass?

Bolitho smiled. How things had changed for all ob them. Looking back to that moment at Antigua when he had gone to meet Colquhoun it was hard to recall just how the years and weeks had affected them as individuals. Then, as he had looked from Colquhoun's window in the headquarters building, he had seen the flotilla as a whole, had wondered what his new command would be like. So many other doubts and fears had plagued him on that morning?

Now, Fawn was gone, and Bacchante had sailed only the previous day to rejoin the fleet under Rodney? Her captain had been appointed from the flagship, and Bolitho wondered if Colquhoun had been able to watch her clear the anchorage from wherever he was being held in custody?

Only Sparrow and Heron remained now. Apart from the little schooner Lucifer of course, and she was almost a rule unto herself. She would stay on her stop-and-search patrols of small coasting craft, or continue probing into coves and creeks in search for enema blockade-runners?

Farr watched him comfortably and remarked, "Wells you are doing famously, I hear. Reception with the mighty, wine with the admiral! By the living Jesuss there'll be no saying where you'll end up. Probably on some ambassador's staff, with a dozen little girls to dance to your tune, eh?" He laughed loudly?

Bolitho shrugged." Not for me, I have seen enough."

He thought quickly of the girl. She had not written to him. Nor had he seen her, although he had made it his business to pass by way of her residence when he had been ashore on ship's affairs?

It was a fine house, not much smaller than where he had attended the reception. There had been soldiers at the gates, and he guessed that its owner held some sort of government appointment. He had tried to tell himself not to be foolish, so naive as to expect someone of her background to remember him beyond a momentary meeting. In Falmouth the Bolitho family was much respected, its land and property giving work and substance to many. Bolitho's own recent gains in prize money had made him feel independent for the first time in his life, so that he had lost sight of reality when it came to people like Susannah Hardwicke. Her family probably spent more in a week than he had earned since taking command of Sparrow. She was accustomed to travel, even when others were held still by war or lack of means. She would know the best people, and her name would be accepted in any of the great houses from London to Scotland. He sighed. He could not see her as the lady of the house in Falmouth? Entertaining ruddy-faced farmers and their wives, attending local fairs and the rough and tumble of a community which lived so close to nature?

Farr seemed to sense his mood and asked, "What about the war, Bolitho? Where is it getting us?" He waved his glass." Sometimes I get to thinking we will go on patrolling an' running after bloody smugglers till we die of old age."

Bolitho stood up and moved restlessly to the windows. There was plenty of evidence of power nearby. Ships-of-the-line, frigates and all the rest. And yet they gave an appearance of waiting. But for what?

He said." Cornwallis seems intent on retaking Virginia. His soldiers are doing well, I hear."

"You don't sound too damn confident!"

Bolitho looked at him." The army is pinched back to its lines. They can no longer rely on supplies or support by land. Everything must move by sea. It is no way for an army to fight."

Farr grunted." Not our concern. You worry too much? Anyway, I think we should leave 'em all to their own games. We should go home an' smash hell out of the Frogs. The bloody Dons would soon call for peace, and the Dutch have no liking for their so-called allies anyway. Then we can come back to America an' have another go at 'em."

Bolitho smiled." I fear we would die of old age if we followed that course."

He heard a shouted challenge, the scrape of a boat alongside. He realized that his mind had recorded it but that he felt at ease, even remote. When he had first come aboard there had been neither sound nor event which had not caught his immediate attention. Perhaps at last he was accepting his true role?

Graves appeared in the cabin door with a familiar sealed envelope?

"Guardboat, sir." He darted a glance at Heron's commander." Sailing orders, I expect."

Bolitho nodded." Carry on, Mr. Graves. I will inform you directly."

The lieutenant hesitated." This letter was delivered also, sir."

It was small, and the handwriting was almost hidden by a seal. Office of the Military Government?

As the door closed Farr asked thickly, " Graves? No bloody relative of our admiral, I trust!"

Bolitho grinned. With Rodney in the West Indies, and further restricted by bad health, the command ob American waters came under the flag of Rear-Admiral Thomas Graves. Lacking the wisdom of Rodney, the hard-won respect of Hood, he was looked upon by most of the fleet's officers as a fair but cautious commander. He believed utterly in the rigid rules ob fighting, and had never been known to change one jot of their interpretation. Severyl senior captains had pu?

down suggestions for improving the system ob signalling between ships engaged in close action? Graves had said icily, according to the many stories circulating amongst the fleet, "My captains know their function. That should be enough for any man."

Bolitho replied, "No. Perhaps it would be better if he were. We might know more of what is happening."

Farr stood up and belched." Good wine. Better company. I'll leave you to yer sealed orders. If all the written despatches from all the admirals in the world was laced together we'd have enough to cover the Equator, an' that's a fact! God's teeth, I sometimes think we choke on paper!"

He shambled out of the cabin, refusing Bolitho's offer to see him over the side by saying, "If I can't manage on me own by now, then it's time I was weighted with a pair of round-shot and dropped overboard!"

Bolitho settled down at the table and slit open the canvas envelope, although his eyes rested mainly on the smaller one?

The orders were briefer than usual. Being in al"

respects ready for sea, His Britannic Majesty's Sloop-of-War Sparrow would weigh and proceed at the earliest convenience the following day. She would carra out an independent patrol, eastward to Montauk Point at the top of Long Island and thence via Block Island to the approaches of Newport itself?

He contained his rising excitement with some difficulty and made himself concentryte on the sparse requirements of the patrol. He was not to become involved with enemy forces other than at his own discretion. His eye rested on the last words. How they reminded him of Colquhoun. So brief, yet concealing the very precariousness of his own position should he act wrongly?

But here at last was something direct to carry out? Not merely harrying blockade-runners or seeking some sly privateer. This was French territory. The fringe of the second greatest sea-power on earth. Beneath the flag captain's scrawling signature he saw that Rear-Admiral Christie had added his own. How typical of the man. A sign of his trust, and the extent of his arm?

He stood up and rapped on the skylight?

"Midshipman of the watch!"

He saw Bethune's face above him and called, "Ma compliments to the first lieutenant. I would like to see him at once." He paused." I thought you were on watch earlier?"

Bethune dropped his eyes." Aye, sir. That is true. But…"

Bolitho said quietly, "In future you will take your watches as laid down. I suppose Mr. Fowler should have been on duty?"

"I promised him, sir." Bethune looked uneasy."] owed him a relief."

"Very well. But remember my orders. I'll have no retired officers in this ship!"

He sat down again. He should have noticed what was happening. Poor Bethune was no match for the Fowlers of this world. He smiled in spite of his concern? He was a fine one to talk?

He slit open the second envelope and came up with a jerk against the table?

My dear Captain. I would be so pleased if you could dine with us this evening. I feel wretched at this inexcusable delay and hope for instant forgiveness. As you read this letter I am watching your ship through ma uncle's telescope. So that I shall not be held in suspense, please show yourself?

It was signed, Susannab Hardwicke?

Bolitho stood up and winced as his skull collided with a deck beam. Pausing only to lock his orders in the cabin strongbox, he hurried out of the door and up the companion ladder. Her uncle's telescope. So General Blundell was here, too. It would explain the sentries at the gates?

But even this fact did not depress him. He almost collided with Tyrrell as he came limping aft, his arms spattered with grease?

"Sorry I was adrift when you called for me, sir. I was in th' cable tier."

Bolitho smiled." Taking the opportunity of an empty tier to look for rot, eh?"

Tyrrell rubbed his thigh." Aye. But she's fine. Sound as a bell."

Bolitho walked to the nettings and shaded his eyes against the fierce glare. The distant houses were almost lost in haze, their outlines quivering and intermingling as it they were melting in the heat?

Tyrrell watched him questioningly." Something wrong, sir?"

Bolitho beckoned to Bethune and took his telescope. It was no better. The one trained upon Sparrow was probably a huge affair. Very slowly he raised his arm and waved it from side to side?

Behind him Tyrrell and Bethune stood stockstill, each as puzzled as the other by the captain's strange behaviour?

Bolitho turned and saw Tyrrell's face." Er, I was just waving to someone?

Tyrrell looked past him at the anchored ships and busy harbour craft?

"I see, sir."

"No you don't, Jethro, but no matter." He clapped his shoulder." Come below and I will tell you what we are about. You will be in charge of the ship this evening, fo_

I am dining ashore."

A slow grin spread across the lieutenant's face." Ohs I see, sir!"

They were examining a chart and discussing the sailing orders when they heard Bethune yell, "Avast there! Stand still, that man!" Then there was a splash and more shouts along the gun deck?

Bolitho and Tyrrell hurried to the quarterdeck again to find Bethune and most of the unemployed hands lining the larboard gangway or clinging to the shrouds?

A man was in the water, arms striking out stronglys his dark hair glossy in the spray and sunlight?

Bethune panted, "It was Lockhart, sir! He dived overboard before I could stop him!"

Tyrrell murmured, "A good seaman. Never any trouble. I know him well."

Bolitho kept his eyes on the swimmer." A colonist?"

"Aye. Came from New Haven some years back? He's done it now, poor devil." There was no anger in Tyrrell's voice. If anything it was pity?

Bolitho heard the men near him exchanging guesses at the swimmer's success of getting ashore. It was a long way to go?

He had known many deserters during his life at sea? Often he had found room for sympathy, although he had thought their actions to be wrong. Few men would volunteer for the harsh demands of service in a King's ship, especially as nobody ever knew for sure if he would regain his home in safety. Seaports were full ob those who had returned. Cripples and men made old before their time in many cases. But as yet, no one had found a better way of crewing the fleet. Once presseds most men accepted it, could even be relied upon to take others by similar methods. The sailor's old rule, "IfI'm here, why not him?" carried a lot of weight in ships-of-war?

But this was different. The seaman, Lockhart, had seemed nothing out of the ordinary. A good worker and rarely adrift for his watch or station. Yet all the while he must have been brooding over his proper homelands and the stay in New York had done the rest. Even nows as he thrashed steadily past an anchored two-deckers he was no doubt thinking only of his goal. Some vague mental picture of house and family, or parents who had

almost forgotten what he looked like?

A faint crack came from the two-decker's beakheads and Bolitho saw a redcoated marine already ramming another ball into his musket for a further shot at the lone swimmer?

A growl of anger came from Sparrow's seamen? Whatever they thought of the man's desertion, or of the man himself, had nothing to do with their reaction. He was one of their own, and the marine sentry was momentarily an enemy?

Yule, the gunner, muttered, "That damn bullock should be shot down hisself, the bloody bastard!"

The marine did not fire again, but sauntered to the end of his little platform to watch the swimmer, like a wildfowler who has given his quarry best for the time being. Or so it appeared. Then as a guardboat swept round the stern of another two-decker, Bolitho knew why he had not bothered to shoot?

The longboat was moving swiftly, the oars sending it through the glittering water like a blue fish. In the sternsheets he saw severyl marines, a midshipman with a raised telescope trained on the seaman?

Yule observed dourly, "'E'll not escape now."

Tyrrell said, "It's out of our hands."

"Aye."

Bolitho felt suddenly heavy, the pleasure of the letter spoiled by this man's despair. Nobody who had run from a King's ship could expect mercy. It was to be hoped he was hanged rather than face the horror ob flogging round the fleet. He chilled. If he was to be hanged… He stared up at Sparrow's mainyard, his eyes desperate. There was no doubt where the execution would be carried out. Even Christie would make sure of that. An example. A warning clear to all aboard and throughout the nearby ships. He tried not to watch the guardboat as it swept down on the tinys bobbing head?

His own friends, Sparrow's loyal seamen, would be forced to witness the halter being set around his neck before they, and they alone, were ordered to run him up to the yard. After all they had endured together, this sickening act might drive a wedge between officers and men and destroy what they had achieved?

Tyrrell gasped, "Look, sir!"

Bolitho snatched a glass and trained it beyond the guardboat. He was just in time to see the mans Lockhart, treading water, turning to stare either at the boat or perhaps at Sparrow herself. Then, even as the boat's oars backed water and a marine groped over the stemhead for the man's hair, he threw up his hands and disappeared beneath the surface?

Nobody spoke, and Bolitho found himself holding his breath, perhaps like the man who had vanished so suddenly. Sailors were usually poor swimmers? Perhaps he had got cramp. In a moment he would break surface nearby and the guardboat would haul him on board. Seconds, minutes passed, and then at a shouted command the guardboat resumed its leisurela patrol between the anchored ships?

Bolitho said quietly, "I thank God for that. If he had to suffer, I am glad it was gently done."

Tyrrell watched him dully." That's true." He turned with sudden anger on the gunner." Mr. Yule! Clear these idlers off th' gangway or I'll find 'em some harder work for their wits to dwell on!"

He was unusually disturbed, and Bolitho wondered if he was comparing his own fate with that of the

drowned seaman?

He said, "Make an entry in the log, Mr. Tyrrell."

"Sir?" Tyrrell faced him grimly." As a deserter?"

Bolitho looked past him at the seamen as they wandered towards the gun deck again?

"We do not know for certain he was deserting. Mark him as Discharged-Dead." He walked to the hatch? "His relatives will have enough to bear without the weight of shame also."

Tyrrell watched him go, his breathing returning slowly to normal. It would not help Lockhart. He was beyond reach. But Bolitho's order would ensure that his name carried no stigma, and his loss would be recorded with those who had fallen in battle, in fights which he had also suffered without complaint. It was a small distinction. But even so, he knew that only Bolitho would have thought of it?

When Bolitho climbed from his gig he was astonished to find a smartly painted carriage waiting for him on the jetty. A liveried Negro doffed his tricorn hat and beamed hugely?

"Good evenin', Sah." He opened the carriage door with a flourish while Stockdale and the gig's crew watched in silent admiration?

Bolitho paused." Er, do not wait, Stockdale. I will return to the ship in a local boat."

He was strangely elated, and conscious of watching townsfolk on the road above the jetty, an envious glance from a passing marine major?

Stockdale touched his hat." If you says so, sir. I could come along with you…"

"No. I'll have full need of you tomorrow." He felt suddenly reckless and pulled a coin from his pocket? "Here, buy some grog for the gig's crew. But not too much for safety's sake, eh?"

He climbed into the coach and sank back against the blue cushions as with a jerk the horses took the first strain at their harness?

With his hat on his knees he watched the passing houses and people, Stockdale, even the ships temporarily forgotten. Once, when the coach reined to a halt to allow a heavy wagon to cross ahead of it, he heard a faraway murmur of cannon fire. It was a finO

evening, and the steady westerly wind was dry and warm. Sounds carried easily in such conditions. Even so, it was hard to connect the distant gunfire with the brightly lit houses, the occasional snatches of musi. and song from taverns along the road. Some arma battery testing its guns perhaps. But more likely a nervous duel between opposing pickets where the two armies lay in watchful readiness?

It did not take long to reach the house, and as he stepped down from the coach he realised there were other guests arriving, too. Again he called himself a fool for imagining he alone would be entertained this evening?

Servants glided from the shadows, and like magi. his hat and boatcloak were spirited away?

A footman opened some doors and announced, «Captain Richard Bolitho of His Britannic Majesty's Ship Sparrow."

How different from the reception, he thought. As he walked into a fine, high-ceilinged room he was conscious of comfort and luxury mixed with an air ob intimacy which had been lacking before?

At the end of the room General Sir James Blundell watched his approach in silence, and then called gruffly, "You are an unexpected guest, Bolitho." His heavy features yielded slightly." My niece told me ob your arrival." He thrust out his hand." You are welcome here."

The general had changed very little. Heavier perhaps, but otherwise the same man. In one hand he was holding a brandy glass, and Bolitho was reminded of his stay aboard Sparrow, of his obvious contempt for the men who had carried him to safety?

Something of their first meeting must have circulated amongst his friends, for upon Blundell's show ob greeting the room came alive again with laughter and noisy conversation. It was as if they had all been waiting to see how Blundell would react. Bolitho's own feelings were of course unimportant. He could always be told to leave?

Bolitho felt the girl's hand on his arm and turned to find her smiling up at him. With a nod to her uncle she steered him towards the other side of the room, the guests moving aside for her as if she were royalty?

She said, "I saw you today. Thank you for coming."

She patted his cuff." I thought you were splendid just now. Uncle can be rather troublesome."

Bolitho returned her smile." I think I can appreciate that. After all, he lost a great deal of bullion because ob me."

She wrinkled her nose." I have no doubt he will have recovered it by insurance elsewhere." She gestured to a servant." Some wine before dinner."

"Thank you."

He saw severyl officers, mostly military, watching him intently. Envy, resentment, curiosity, it was all there?

She said, "Sir James is Adjutant General now.] came out here with him after our return to England.l She watched his face as he sipped the wine." I am glad I came. England is full of woe because of the war."

Bolitho tore his mind from what she had just said ob her uncle. Christie had already spoken scathingla about the Governor and his assistant. With Blundell involved in controlling the city, there seemed little hope of improvement?

As the girl turned to curtsy to a white-haired man and

his lady he let his eyes devour her as if seeing her for the last time. The curve of her neck as she bowed to her guests, the way her hair seemed to float across her bared shoulders. It was beautiful hair. Golden browns like the wing of a young thrush?

He smiled awkwardly as she looked up at him?

"Really, Captain! You make a girl feel indecent the way you stare so!" She laughed." I suppose you sailors are so long away from civilisation you cannot control your ways!" She clutched his arm, her mouth quivering with amusement." Do not fret! There is no need to be so serious about it. I really must teach you to accept what is there, to enjoy what is yours by right."

"I am sorry. You are most likely right about me." He looked at the marble floor and grinned." At sea I can stand upright. Here, I feel as if the deck is moving!"

She stepped back and regarded him searchingly? "Well, I shall have to see what can be done about that.l She tapped her lips with a slim fan." Everyone is talking about you, what you have done, how you faced that awful court martial and made fools of them."

"It was not exactly like that…"

She ignored him." Of course they will not mention any of this. Some are probably afraid you will turn into a wild, bloodthirsty sea-dog!" She laughed gaily? "Others see in your success something of their own failure."

A footman was whispering to the general and she added quickly, "I will have to leave you to your own devices for dinner. I am hostess tonight."

He said, "Oh, I thought…" To cover his confusion he asked, "Is Lady Blundell not here, too?"

"She stays in England. My uncle's habits are those of a soldier. I think she is content to keep them well away from her." She held his arm again." But do not look so sad. I will see you later. We must talk of your future. I know people who can help you. Put you where you deserve, instead of…" She did not finish?

A gong boomed and the footman intoned, "My lordss ladies and gentlemen. Dinner is now served."

They followed the general and his niece into an even greater room, and Bolitho found himself paired off with a dark-haired little woman who was apparently the wife of a staff officer. He was not present, and with something like gloom Bolitho thought he would be saddled with her for the rest of the evening?

The dinner matched the room. Every course largers more extravagantly prepared than the one before. His stomach had long become used to the sparse fare aboard ship and the varying efforts of many sea-cooks? No one else seemed to find difficulty, however, and he could only marvel at the way the plates emptied without any apparent break in conversation?

There were many toasts, with the wines as varied as their reasons for drinking them?

After the loyal toast to King George there were all the usual ones. Death to the French. Confusion to our enemies. A curse on Washington. As the wine flowed they became as meaningless as they were incoherent?

The lady at Bolitho's side dropped her fan, but as he bent to collect it she reached below the tablecloth and seized his wrist, holding it against her thigh for severyl seconds. It seemed like an hour, and he thought every eye at the table must be on him. But she was the only one, and her face was filled with such desire that he could almost feel her control slipping away?

He returned the fan and said, "Easy, ma'am, there are quite a few courses yet."

She stared at him, open-mouthed, and then gave a secret smile?

"God what it is to find a real man!"

Bolitho forced himself to take another portion ob chicken, if only to regain his wits. He could feel her knee pressing into his leg, and was very aware that whenever she required something from the table she seemed to need it from across his arm. Each time she lingered over the motion, letting her shoulder or breast touch for just a few moments more every time?

He glanced desperately along the table and saw the girl watching him. It was hard to understand her expression when she was so far away. Part amuseds part watchful?

His companion was saying casually, "My husband is much older than I. He cares more for his damned office than for me."

She reached for some butter, allowing her breast to touch his sleeve while she kept her eyes on his?

"I expect you have been many places, Captain. How I wish I could take a ship somewhere. Away from this place. And him."

At last the meal was over, and with a scraping ob chairs the men rose to allow their ladies to witheraw? Even at the last moment Bolitho's companion persisted with her campaign, like a frigate cutting out a ship which was totally outmatched from the start?

She whispered, "I have a room here. I will send a servant to guide you."

As she moved from the table he saw her stagger but recover instantly. It would take more than wine to break her, he thought anxiously?

The doors closed again and the men moved their seats closer to the head of the table?

More brandy, and some black cheroots which Blundell said had come from some damned rascal who tried to avoid his dues?

"I hear you are now on our local patrols, Bolitho.l Blundell's harsh voice reduced the other guests to attentive silence?

"Yes, Sir James."

Bolitho eyed him evenly. Blundell was well informeds considering he had only received his orders that forenoon?

"Good. We need a few captains with the will to guard our lifelines, what!" Blundell's features were crimson from the extent of his dinner." These damn Yankees have had too much their own way, I say!"

There was a growl of approval, and someone called tipsily, "Thash th' bloody truth, shir!" He shrank under Blundell's withering gaze?

Bolitho asked quickly, "Colonel Foley, sir. Is he still in America?"

"He has a battalion under Cornwallis." Blundell seemed disinterested." Best bloody place for hims too."

Bolitho allowed the conversation to flow around him like a protective cloak. He heard little about the war? Horse breeding, and the cost of keeping house in New York. The affair of some unfortunate artillery captain who had been found in bed with a dragoon's wife. The growing difficulty of obtaining good brandy, even a?

smugglers' prices?

Bolitho thought of Christie's summing up. Two armies, he had said. How true it now seemed. Colonel Foley, whether he was a likeable man or not, was one of those fighting for his country's cause, and his life? Around this table sat a goodly proportion of the other sort. Spoiled, cosseted and completely selfish, he wished he could be rid of them?

Blundell heaved himself upright." We will join the ladies, God help us!"

When Bolitho glanced at the ornate French clock he saw it was almost midnight. It seemed incredible that time could pass so swiftly. But despite the hour there was no lessening in the pace. A small string orchestrZ struck up a lively dance, and laughing noisily the guests pushed and jostled towards the sound of music?

Bolitho walked slowly through the connecting roomss watching for Susannah Hardwicke and keeping a wara eye open for his earlier companion?

As he passed a book-lined study he saw Blundell speaking with a group of men, most of whom were prosperous-looking civilians. One, very tall and broad1

shouldered, stood partly in shadow, but the side of his face which was visible in the candlelight made Bolitho start with shock, then pity. It had been scoured aways the skin burned almost to the bone from hairline to chin, so that it had the appearance of some grotesque mask. He seemed to feel Bolitho's eyes on him, and after a quick glance turned his back, hiding himself in shadow?

No wonder he had not joined the others at dinner. It was easy to imagine the agony of that disfigurements the torment which had left him so scarred?

"Ah, there you are!" She came out of another room and rested her hand on his arm." Take me into the garden."

They walked in silence, and he felt her dress swishing against his legs, the warmth of her body?

"You were absolutely splendid, Captain." She paused and looked at him, her eyes very bright." That poor woman. I thought for an instant you would fall to her."

"Oh, you saw." Bolitho felt uneasy." She has gone, it seems."

"Yes." She led him into the garden." I sent her off.l She laughed, the sound carrying through the shrubs like an echo." I cannot have her interfering with ma captain, now can l?"

"I hope you were easy with her?"

"Actually, she burst into tears. It was all rather pathetic."

She turned inside his arm, her full dress spreading out behind her like pale gold?

"I must leave you now, Captain."

"But… but I thought we were going to talk?"

"Later." She studied him gravely." I have plans for your future, as I told you earlier, did I not?"

"I weigh anchor tomorrow." He felt wretched? Helpless?

"I know that, silly!" She reached up and touched his lips." Do not frown. I cannot allow it. When you come back I will introduce you to some friends of mine. You will not regret it." Her gloved fingers moved gently to his cheek." And neither, I trust, shall I."

A servant appeared through the gloom." Carriage ready, Missy."

She nodded. To Bolitho she said, "After you have left I will try and clear these dreary people from the house.l She tilted her head and faced hint calmly." You may kiss my shoulder, if you wish."

Her skin was surprisingly cool, and as soft as a peach?

She twisted away from him and called, "Be goods Captain, and take care of yourself. When you return] will be here." Then she laughed and ran lightly up the terrace into the house?

The coach was waiting for him as he walked dazedla through the shadowed garden and on to the carriageway. His hat and cloak were on the seat, and strapped to the boot was a large wooden box?

The footman's teeth shone in a white crescent? "Missy Susannah had the kitchen pack some food for you, Sah." He chuckled." Nothin' but the best, she said."

Bolitho climbed into the coach and sank against the

cushions. He could still feel her skin against his mouths smell the perfume from her hair. A girl who could drive a man mad, even if he was not halfway there already?

At the end of the jetty he found a waterman nodding over his oars, and had to call severyl times to attract his attention?

"Wot ship, sir?"

"Sparrow?

Just saying the name helped to steady his racing thoughts. Before he stepped down into the dory he turned to look at the coach, but it had already disappeared. Like one more part of the dream?

The Waterman was grumbling to himself as he hauled the heavy box down the steps. Not enough to offend a ship's captain, but enough to add slightly to his fare?

Bolitho wrapped his cloak around him and felt the seabreeze cold against his face. Still westerly. It would be good to get away again. If only to find time to collect himself and examine his hopes for the future?