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

the door closed behind the other captain he continued evenly, “I am sorry if I seemed unwilling to listen to your appraisal of our situation here, Bolitho.” He smiled and lifted a decanter from the silver casket. “Some brandy, eh? Took it from a French coaster a week ago.” He did not wait for a reply but poured it liberally into some glasses which had been concealed below the table. “The fact is, I do not always see eye to eye with Sir Manley, you know.” He watched Bolitho above the rim of his glass. “It is a family mat- ter, a deeply rooted dispute of some standing now.” He wagged the glass. “Not unknown in your family too, I believe?”
    Bolitho felt the brandy burning his lips. It seemed as if his brother’s memory, his disgrace to the family name would never be allowed to die. And now Pelham-Martin was using it as a comparison with some stupid feud caused by his own brother’s cowardice, or whatever it had been which had caused him to sur- render without first warning the ships coming to relieve and sustain his soldiers.
    The commodore nodded gravely. “Of course, my brother did not actually desert his country, but the end result is the same. He was trying to save his men from useless slaughter.” He sighed deeply. “But history only judges results and not intentions.”
    Bolitho said flatly, “I am sure that neither the vice-admiral nor you would jeopardise efficiency over this matter, sir.”
    â€œQuite so.” Pelham-Martin was smiling again. “But as his junior I have to be doubly careful, you understand?” His tone hardened. “And that is why I obey my orders, and nothing more.” He paused before adding, “And so will you! ”
    The interview was over, but as Bolitho rose to his feet Pelham- Martin said easily, “In any case, this tiresome duty will give you ample opportunity to drill your people into shape.” He shook his head. “The sail handling was, to say the least, very poor indeed.”
    Bolitho stepped from the cabin and breathed out very slowly. So this was how it was to be. Outwardly everything perfect, but as far as initiative and closing with the enemy were concerned, their hands were to be well tied.
    On the quarterdeck Winstanley greeted him with a relieved smile. “Sorry about the warning, Bolitho. Should have told you earlier. The commodore likes to get officers in their cups before he starts his interviews. A nasty little habit which has cost more than one of ’em a quick passage home.” He grinned. “Not me of course. He needs a good old salthorse to run his ship.” He gripped Bolitho’s arm. “Just as he’ll need you before we’re done, my friend!”
    Bolitho smiled. “I am afraid I needed no drink to irritate him.”
    Winstanley followed him to the quarterdeck rail and together they stared across at the Hyperion as she swayed heavily on the steep offshore swell.
    He said, “I agree with everything you said about the frigates. I have told him my views repeatedly, yet he still believes the real threat is from the south.” He shook his head. “But if he is indeed wrong then he will have more than an enraged admiral to con- tend with.” He added grimly, “And so will we!”
    The wind had eased slightly during the interview and Bolitho had little difficulty in boarding his barge. On the way back to his ship he thought back over every word Pelham-Martin had uttered, and over those he had not spoken.
    As he climbed through the entry port he found Inch waiting for him and realised with a start that while he had been con- templating the commodore’s strategy the small drama of Inch’s clash with Stepkyne had faded from his mind.
    He said curtly, “Get the barge inboard and prepare to wear ship, Mr Inch.” He unclipped his swordbelt and handed it to Petch, his servant. Then he dropped his voice and added,