Relentless Pursuit by Alexander Kent Read Free Book Online

them?”
    â€œPerhaps not. All of them served under Sir Richard.”
    â€œMy God.” Adam looked past him, knowing, understanding what it must have cost Yovell, a man closer to his uncle than almost any one.
    And now there was a letter from the woman who had loved him.
    He said, “I shall go out to them,” and walked blindly across the familiar cobbles. Like part of a dream. The lifeline.
    Yovell polished his spectacles with a handkerchief and remarked, “It seemed the thing to do, you see. The letter gave me the idea.” He didn’t add that Allday had known nothing about it.
    Adam came back, inexplicably disturbed and moved. Hard hands reaching out as he had passed among them, tattoos and weathered faces, every one a prime seaman.
    It was as if he had known all of them, but in his heart he knew that they had seen and heard another Bolitho when he had spoken to them.
    He said quietly, “That was a fine thing you did.” And to Jago, “Gig ready?”
    Jago nodded. “Say the word, sir.”
    Adam looked at the round-shouldered man who, in his own quiet way, had changed everything.
    â€œWill you stay in Penzance a while?”
    Yovell shrugged, and seemed almost apologetic.
    â€œI have some things with me, sir. I had heard that you lost your clerk recently, so I thought I would offer my services until something better presents itself.” He was smiling, but there was no doubt of his sincerity. His need.
    â€œAre you sure, man? She’s no ship of the line, you know!”
    Yovell said severely, “I was Sir Richard’s clerk before becoming his secretary. I can adapt, even for one of my age. ”
    Jago picked up the newcomer’s chest and followed them out into the keen air. He had seen his captain’s face when those men had crowded around him, as if it was the start of some big and glorious venture, just as he had seen it in that church nearby.
    He was reminded of the handshake which, for him, had decided things. And he was glad of it.
    Adam rested his hand on the breech of one of the eighteen-pounders which shared his quarters and sensed the movement under his palm. Something he had never grown used to, never truly accepted, that a ship was alive and responding in her own way.
    He shook his head, dismissing the notion, and glanced around the cabin. Young Napier had been busy; there was nothing lying about, everything was in its place.
    How many in Unrivalled ’s company were feeling regret and anxiety, he wondered. It was easy to laugh it off, for the old hands to brag about it after a few tots of rum on their messdecks. But that was then. Unrivalled was ready to leave. Alive.
    The wind had backed a little, which might allow some of the new men time to become accustomed to the complications of getting under way. You never forgot the first time. Everyone else seemed to know exactly what was expected of him.
    He heard the shrill of a call; the ship was restless, straining at her cable, her fully laden hull matched against the men labouring at the capstan bars. Yes, there would be a few faint hearts on this cold December forenoon.
    He stood away from the gun as if he had heard someone speak, and patted his worn, seagoing coat to make certain he had everything he needed, and glanced at the small desk where he kept his personal log book. He had placed Catherine’s letter carefully between its pages to press out the wear and tear of its journey.
    My dear Adam. He could hear her voice, had tried to picture her writing it. How she felt, what she was doing. How she looked.
    She had mentioned George Avery, and had thanked him for writing to her of his death. She had touched only briefly on its effect on Sillitoe, Avery’s uncle.
    But it was clear enough; she was with Sillitoe. She had spoken of his strength, his protection, and that she was accompanying him on some business venture.
    Adam was still surprised by his own foolishness, his naïveté.