Stand Into Danger by Alexander Kent

clerk, just to get the contents of his satchel. Then the brigantine, which must have quit England about the same time as we left Plymouth, happens to be in harbour. Her master must have known I could not beat to wind’rd and make a chase of it. So long as he kept his distance he was safe.”
    Bolitho understood. If Destiny had clawed round to approach the other vessel in daylight, the Heloise would have had the advantage of the wind and the distance. The frigate could outpace her in any fair chase, but under cover of darkness the brigantine would easily slip away if expertly handled. Bolitho thought of the gaunt man he had cut down in the fight to hold the deck. He could almost pity him. Almost. Dumaresq had ordered him to be brought across so that Bulkley, the surgeon, could save his life, if that were possible.
    Dumaresq added, “By God, it proves something, if more proof were needed. We are on the right scent.”
    The marine sentry called, “Surgeon, sir!”
    Dumaresq glanced at the perspiring surgeon. “And about bloody time, man!”
    Bulkley shrugged, either indifferent to Dumaresq’s explosive temper or so used to it that it meant nothing to him.
    â€œThe man is alive, sir. A bad wound but a clean one.” He glanced curiously at Bolitho. “He’s a strong fellow, too. I’m surprised and gratified to see you in one portion!”
    Dumaresq snapped, “Never mind all that. How dare that ruffian interfere with a King’s ship. He’ll get no mercy from me, be certain of it!”
    He calmed slowly. It was like watching the sea receding, Bolitho thought.
    â€œI must find out what I can from him. Mr Palliser is searching the Heloise ’s hull, but in view of what Mr Bolitho took pains to discover, I think it unlikely we will gain much. According to the log she was launched last year and completed just a month back. Though she’s hardly big enough for useful commerce, I’d have thought.”
    Bolitho wanted to leave, to try and wash the stain of combat from his hands and mind.
    The surgeon remarked, “Mr Jury is well enough. A nasty cut, but he is a healthy boy. There’ll be no after effects.”
    Dumaresq gave a smile. “I spoke with him when he was brought up from the cutter. A touch of hero-worship there, I think, Mr Bolitho?”
    â€œHe saved my life, sir. He’s no cause to praise me for that.”
    Dumaresq nodded. “Hmmm. We shall see.”
    He changed tack. “We shall be sailing in company before nightfall. Keep all hands busy, that’s the thing. Mr Palliser will need to rig a jury topgallant mast on that damned pirate, but it must be done.” He glanced at Bolitho. “Pass the word to the quarterdeck. Change masthead lookouts every hour. We’ll use this enforced respite to keep our eyes open for other would-be followers. As it stands, we have a fine little prize, and nobody yet knows anything about it. It might assist in some way.”
    Bolitho stood up, his legs heavy again. So there was to be no rest.
    Dumaresq said, “Turn up the hands at noon to witness burial, Mr Bolitho. We’ll send the poor fellows on their last journey while we lie to.” He scattered the sentiment by adding, “No sense in wasting time once we are under way.”
    Bulkley followed Bolitho past the sentry and towards the ladder which led below to the main-deck.
    The surgeon gave a sigh. “He has the bit between his teeth now.”
    Bolitho looked at him to try and understand his feelings. But it was too dark between decks, with only the ship’s sounds and smells rising around them for company.
    â€œIs it the bullion?”
    Bulkley lifted his head to listen to the muffled shouts from a boat coming alongside, booming against the hull in the deep swell.
    â€œYou are still too young to understand, Richard.” He laid a plump hand on Bolitho’s sleeve. “And that was no sort of criticism,