“I suggest we recall the marines, sir.”

Bolitho pushed away his earlier ideas about landing guns and all the tackle and boats it would have required. There was no time for that now, and they might be lucky to regain all their marines if an enemy squadron was nearby.

“No.” Broughton’s eyes were like stones. “I will not withdraw. I have my orders. So have you.” He gestured towards the line of barren hills. “Djafou must be taken before any enemy ships reach here! Must be, do you understand?” He was almost shouting, and several of the seamen by the guns were staring up at him.

Draffen’s voice cut through the brief silence like a knife. Where he had been during the action Bolitho did not know, but now he looked very calm, his eyes cold and steady, like a hunter at the kill.

“Let me make a suggestion, Sir Lucius.” As Broughton turned to him he added quietly, “For I think you will agree we have wasted quite enough time with conventional methods.”

For a brief instant Bolitho expected the admiral to show some of his earlier defiance.

But instead he replied, “I will agree to hear your suggestions, Sir Hugo.” He looked round as if seeking the companion ladder. “In my quarters, I think.”

Bolitho said, “I will signal the squadron to steer due west, sir. With Restless and Coquette remaining on station at present.”

He waited, seeing Broughton’s mind wrestling with his words.

Then he replied, “Yes.” Nodding more firmly, “Yes, attend to it.”

As they left the quarterdeck Keverne said softly, “We fared better than Tanais, sir. She lost twenty killed. We have seven dead and five with splinter wounds.”

Bolitho was still looking towards the poop and wondering what Draffen could suggest at this late stage.

“Damage?”

“Sounded worse than it was, sir. The carpenter is below now.”

“Good. Tell Mr Grubb to get his men to work on it as soon as he can.”

He paused as the first corpse was carried through the main hatch and dropped loosely to await burial. In the space of a few minutes they had lost seven lives. About one a minute.

Bolitho clasped his hands behind him and walked slowly towards the weather side, his face suddenly angry. Euryalus was the most modern device known to man’s ingenuity at making war. Yet an ancient fort and a few soldiers had made her as impotent as a royal barge.

He snapped, “I am going to see the admiral, Mr Keverne.”

“Sir?”

“I too have some ideas which I will put to him directly!”

Allday watched him pass and gave a slow smile. Bolitho was angry. It was about time the captain took charge, he thought, for all their sakes.

13

SECOND CHANCE

VICE-ADMIRAL Broughton looked up from his desk, his expression a mixture of surprise and annoyance.

“We had not quite finished, Bolitho.” He gestured towards Draffen, who was leaning against the cabin bulkhead. “Sir Hugo was just explaining something to me.”