The lieutenant looked startled and then gave a shy grin. “I had not forgotten, sir, although I was not expecting you to test me.” He pointed across the nettings. “But as you well know, sir, it will require fifteen guns.” He was still smiling as he hurried back to join the master by the wheel.
Bolitho walked to the nettings and climbed up on to a bollard. It could not be. The lieutenant had to be deceived by a trick of the light, or the fact that Euryalus was swinging her bows towards them.
He jumped back to the deck and saw Allday watching him. There was no error. The flag which now lifted in the sunlight flew from the three-decker’s foremast.
Allday said quietly, “So he’s arrived, Captain?”
While the Auriga moved slowly towards the anchorage, the salute banging out at regular five-second intervals, Bolitho made himself walk back and forth along the weather side of the quarterdeck. Glasses would be trained on the frigate, he must be seen to be both safe and in control. It seemed to take an age for those last moments to drag by. Moments in which he wondered what had happened to Rear-Admiral Thelwall, and what Broughton would think of his actions. When he looked again he saw the Euryalus swinging across the bowsprit as the frigate went about, and with canvas cracking and slapping against the yards turned easily into the wind. The anchor had barely dropped into the water when Bolitho heard another sound, growing in the clear air like a roll of great drums. As he swung round and ran to the side he saw, with something like sick horror, the three rows of gun ports along the Euryalus’s side opening together, and as if guided by a single hand, the whole triple array of black muzzles running out into the sunlight.
The lieutenant murmured, “My God!”
Taylor ran aft, pointing dazedly. “Boats comin’, sir!”
There were nearly a dozen of them. Cutters and launches, all crammed with marines, their coats shining like blood as they sat motionless between the busy oars.
Some of the seamen seemed unable to drag their eyes from the Euryalus’s massive armament, as if they expected every gun to open fire. A few remained staring at the quarterdeck, watching Bolitho, perhaps hoping to read their own fate on his face.
The leading boat rounded the frigate’s quarter, shielded from the flagship’s guns, and headed towards the entry port. Captain Rook was in the sternsheets, and as he drew alongside he looked up and shouted, “Are you safe, sir?”
Allday muttered, “Bloody fool!” But Bolitho did not hear.
He looked down at Rook’s red face and replied, “Of course.” He hoped the seamen nearby would hear him. They would need all their trust in the next few moments.
Rook clambered up to the deck and touched his hat.
“We were worried, sir, very worried indeed.” He saw the two lieutenants watching him and shouted, “Hand your swords to the lieutenant of marines immediately!”