They all froze as heavy footsteps sounded overhead. Then as they died away Onslow continued easily, “I think Allday guesses what happened to Mathias. He’s too clever to live, is that one!” He reached out and gripped Pook’s arm. “So we’ll make him a bloody martyr, shall we?” He gave a rumbling laugh. “Now we can’t do fairer than that!”
The same uncertain voice tried again. “We’ll be cut down afore we can raise a finger, I say!”
“I’ll cut you down, you bugger!” For a moment Onslow’s good humour retreated. Then he added more calmly, “Now listen to me, all of you! We must wait a bit longer to get the lads more worried. Then when the time’s ripe I’ll tell you what I want. That fool Ferguson can keep an eye on the captain’s log for me, just so that I know where we are. When we get a bit nearer some land, I’ll be ready.”
He snapped his fingers. “Those weapons we brought off from Mola Island. Have you got ’em safely stowed?”
Pook nodded. “Aye, they’ll not be discovered!”
“Right then. Get back to your work now, lads. And stay out of trouble. You’re all marked men anyway, so don’t give the bastards a chance to nail you.”
He watched them creeping away into the darkness beyond the dim lantern and felt satisfied. Now, just as he had told those poor sheep, it was just a matter of time.
14
BLOOD AND FRESH WATER
TOBIAS ELLICE, the Phalarope’s surgeon, arose wheezing from his uncomfortable stooping position and threw the sweat-stained bandage out of the open stern window. “Right, sir. You kin stand up now if you like.” He stepped away from the bench seat as Bolitho threw his legs over the side and lifted himself to his feet.
Ellice mopped his streaming face and peered closely at the rough scar across Bolitho’s ribs. “Not a bad job of work, if I says so meself!” He beamed and licked his lips. “It’s thirsty work, an’ no mistake!”
Bolitho touched the scar with his fingertips and then stood facing the open windows to allow the tiny breeze to play across his bare skin. It was good to be rid of the bandage, he thought. Its very embrace was a constant reminder of the Andiron and all that had gone before. It was well to leave it all in the past. There were troubles enough to deal with today and the next day after that.
It was a full fourteen days since they had sailed with the squadron from Antigua, and almost every one of them had been like this one. Hardly a lick of air which could seriously be called a breeze to fill the hungry sails or even to ventilate the ship. And all the time a broiling sun which seemed to bleach the colour from the sky itself. The nights brought little respite. Between decks the air remained humid and heavy with damp, and the seamen were further wearied by the constant calls to trim sails, only to be dismissed cursing and despairing as the wind died before a single sheet could be handled.