Enemy in Sight! by Alexander Kent Read Free Book Online Page A

consider that the French will have to break out soon if they are to be of any use to their cause.”
    Pelham-Martin nodded slowly. “That is a masterpiece of self- deception, Bolitho.” He waved one hand towards the windows and through the salt-stained glass Bolitho could see the next ship astern throwing the spray across her bows, yet giving the impres- sion of ponderous indestructibility.
    The commodore added calmly, “These ships will prevent any such foolishness.” He seemed to become impatient and dragged a chart from beneath some leatherbound books. “We are here,” he stabbed the chart with one pink finger, “and I have placed the two frigates, Spartan and Abdiel, on the southern approaches to warn of any attempt by the enemy to cross into this area from Spanish waters.” The finger moved towards the rambling coast- line above the Gironde. “Here I have deployed my third frigate, Ithuriel, in the exact area to see and report any French attempt to leave Bordeaux for the north.”
    Bolitho looked up. “And the sloops, sir?” Again a quick shake of the head from Captain Winstanley, but Bolitho’s anger at Pelham-Martin’s easy dismissal of his ideas had thrust caution at one side.
    â€œSloops?” Pelham-Martin nodded gravely. “You have indeed read your reports, Bolitho.” The smile vanished. “I have despatched them to Vigo for, er, extra stores.”
    Bolitho looked away. It was incredible. Vigo, on the north- west coast of Spain, was over four hundred miles away. Further from the Gironde Estuary than Plymouth itself!
    The commodore’s hands began to tap a slow tattoo on the edge of the table. Like two smooth, pink crabs. He asked quietly, “You seem to disapprove?”
    Bolitho kept his tone level. “The frigate Ithuriel is all alone so close inshore, sir. And the other two frigates are too far to the south’rd to assist her if she is attacked.”
    Pelham-Martin eyed him for several seconds. “ Ithuriel’ s cap- tain has my orders, my orders, d’you understand, to close the squadron the moment he sights any sign of activity.” The smile came back slightly. “I understood that you had been a frigate cap- tain, Bolitho? Surely you do not deny the Ithuriel’ s captain the chance to prove his worth?”
    Bolitho said flatly, “I think he would stand no chance at all, sir.”
    Winstanley shifted on his chair. “What Captain Bolitho means is . . .”
    Pelham-Martin lifted one hand. “I know what he means, Winstanley! Not for him the business of blockade, dear me, no! He wants to drive headlong ashore and seize some wretched ship for prize money, no doubt!”
    â€œNo, sir,” Bolitho gripped the arms of his chair. He had made a bad start. Worrying about Inch and Stepkyne, his near fall into the sea from his barge under the eyes of the squadron had pared away his normal reserve when dealing with senior officers. “But I do believe that unless we know exactly what we are blockading we can never take steps to deal with whatever ruse the French will employ.”
    The commodore stared at him. “My orders are to patrol this area. That is what I am doing. Really, Bolitho, I do not know what you were told aboard Vice-Admiral Cavendish’s flagship, but I can assure you we are well aware of the task entrusted to us here.”
    â€œI did not go aboard the flagship, sir.” Bolitho saw a quick flash of surprise in the other man’s eyes before the shutter dropped again. He added quietly, “My orders were sent across to me.” It was a lie, but only half a lie.
    But the effect of it was instantaneous and more than sur- prising. Pelham-Martin dragged a gold watch from his straining waistcoat and said, “Please me by going on deck, Winstanley. Just make sure that all my despatches were sent across to the Vectis before she left the squadron, eh?” As soon as