Ferguson called, “Good luck!” but Allday was already running on deck, his eyes momentarily blinded in the darkness which enclosed the pitching hull like a cloak.
Overhead there were few stars, and then only occasionally visible between the low scudding clouds.
Petty officers were bawling names, and slipping and cursing the seamen pushed into separate parties near the boats which were already clear of their chocks and ready to be swayed outboard.
Allday saw the white lapels of Lieutenant Herrick’s coat gleaming faintly against the dark sky and was strangely glad he was going with his boat. Midshipman Maynard seemed a likeable enough youngster, but he lacked both experience and confidence. He could see him now whispering furtively to his small friend Neale below the quarterdeck.
Herrick said sharply, “Now listen to me, lads! I will lead in the launch. The cutter will follow close astern and then the pinnace. Mr Parker will stay last in the jolly-boat.” He had to shout above the moaning wind, and Allday glanced uneasily at the creaming water alongside and the rising spectres of blown spray. It would be a hard pull, he thought, and automatically spat on his hands.
He pricked up his ears as Parker, the master’s mate, reported, “All present, Mr Herrick. Sixty-six men all told!”
“Very good. I will inform the . . .” He faltered and added harshly, “I will tell Mr Vibart!”
Allday bit his lip. There was no love lost between Herrick and the new captain, he thought.
He saw Onslow leaning negligently against a pike rack and remembered Ferguson’s uneasiness. It was odd how eager Onslow had been to see Ferguson appointed as clerk, he decided. And how convenient it had been that Mathias, Bolitho’s original clerk, had died in the hold.
“Sway out the cutter!” Mr Quintal groped his way towards the tackle. “Hoist away there!”
Allday faltered, his mind suddenly filled with one, stark picture. He had been masthead lookout the morning Mathias had fallen to his death. It was strange how he had not thought of the connection before. He had seen the clerk climbing through the small inspection hatch shortly before he had been found unconscious and dying. But there had already been someone else in the hold before that! He looked quickly at Onslow, remembering the exact moment and the fact that it had been Onslow who had reported the clerk’s fall.
He felt Quintal’s hard hand on his shoulder and threw his weight against the tackle with the others. All at once the sea seemed to become rougher and the Phalarope seemed to shrink by comparison.
Through his racing thoughts he heard Onslow say casually, “We’ll give the buggers a taste of steel!”
But who did he mean? Allday wondered.
11
FORTUNE OF WAR
THE PHALAROPE’S heavy launch, packed as she was with additional men for the cutting-out raid, began to ship water within minutes of leaving the security of the frigate’s side.
Herrick wedged himself in one corner of the stern and peered over the heads of the straining oarsmen, his vision hampered by both darkness and a continuous stream of bursting spray. He tried to concentrate on the set plan of attack, but as time dragged by and the boat’s swooping motion became more pronounced he found that half of his mind dwelt on the realisation that things were already moving against him. The wind had gained in force, and he didn’t need to consult his small compass to know that it had also veered more to the east, so that what cover there might have been from the island was lost in an angry welter of tossing whitecaps and great swirling patterns of backwash from partially hidden rocks.