Bolitho said calmly, “Then I pity your new nation! If it depends on traitors for existence it has a difficult course to steer.”
His brother remained unmoved. “Traitors or patriots? It depends on a point of view! In any case, the Andiron will anchor off St Kitts tonight. Not in the main harbour, but in a quiet little bay which I think would be considered quite ideal for recapturing her!” He threw back his head and laughed. “Except that the Phalarope will be the one to step into the net, my brother!”
Bolitho stared at him without expression. “As far as you are concerned I am a prisoner. I do not wish to tarnish either the name of my family or my country by being called a brother!”
Just for an instant he saw the barb go home. Then his brother recovered himself and said flatly, “Then you will go below.” He picked up the sword again. “I will wear this in future. It is mine by right!”
He banged the table and a sentry appeared in the doorway. Then he added, “I am glad you are aboard my ship, Richard. This time, when the Phalarope comes creeping under my guns, I will have nothing to forestall me!”
“We will see.”
“We shall indeed.” Hugh Bolitho walked across to his chart. “If I have the temper of your crew rightly, Richard, I think they will soon be eager to follow Andiron’s orders!”
Bolitho turned on his heel and walked back past the guard.
Behind him the Andiron’s captain stayed watching the door, his hand still holding the tarnished sword like a talisman.
10
THE RED BAIZE BAG
FOR RICHARD BOLITHO each day of captivity seemed longer than the one before, and the daily routine aboard the Andiron dragged into a slow torture. He was allowed the comparative freedom of the frigate’s poop, from where he could watch the regular comings and goings of shore boats, the casual routine of a ship at anchor. At night he was returned to the solitude of a small cabin, and only joined Farquhar and Belsey for meals. Even then it was difficult to talk freely, because one of the privateer’s warrant officers always waited close at hand.
It was a week since the Andiron had dropped her anchor, but to Bolitho it felt like an eternity. As each day passed he seemed to withdraw more and more into himself, going over his predicament again and again until his mind felt as if it was bursting.
From his small piece of deck he could see Belsey sitting gloomily on a hatch cover beside Farquhar, both apparently engaged in staring at the empty sea. Like everyone else aboard they were waiting, he thought bitterly. Waiting and wondering when Phalarope would approach the island and fall into the trap. He noticed that Belsey had a fresh bandage on his arm, and thought back to that first and only petty triumph when he had been allowed to join the other two after his meeting with his brother.