ALEXANDER KENT - TO GLORY WE STEER

Onslow said slowly, 'Let the boat get near enough to rake with a nine-pounder!' He was grinning. 'And fetch up Mr. bloody Vibart! We'll give those bastards something to remember us by!' To Bolitho he said, 'It will be a hanging after all, and who better?'

It took four men to drag the first lieutenant from the cabin hatch. His clothes were in ribbons, and his face was scarred and battered almost beyond recognition. For several seconds he stared up at the running noose which was already being passed down from the mainyard to eager hands on deck. Then he turned and looked up towards the quarterdeck, seeing Bolitho and the others for the first time. One of his eyes was closed, but the other stared straight at Onslow with neither fear nor hope.

Onslow called, `Now, Mr. Vibart! Let us see you dance to our tune!' Some of the men laughed as he added, `You'll get a good view from up there.'

Bolitho said, `Leave him! You have me, Onslow, isn't that enough?'

But Vibart shouted, `Save your pleadings for yourself! I don't want your damn pity!'

Suddenly a voice shouted, `Look! In the jolly boat! It's Allday and Ferguson!'

Several men ran to the side, and one even started to cheer. Onslow rasped, `Stand by that gun! We don't need them here!'

Bolitho watched narrowly as another big seaman, the one called Pochin, pushed past the wheel and growled, ` 'Old on! It's Allday! 'E's a good mate, an' always 'as bin.' He looked down at the maindeck. `What d'you say, lads?'

There was a rumble of agreement from some of the watching men, and Pochin added, `Call the boat alongside.'

Bolitho could feel his heart pounding against his ribs as the boat bumped against the hull, and in sudden silence Allday and Ferguson climbed up through the entry port.

Pochinn leaned over the rail and shouted, `Welcome back, John! We'll sail together after all!'

But Allday stayed where he was below the starboard gangway, the sunlight bright across his upturned face. Then he said, `I'll not sail with him!' He pointed straight at Onslow. `He killed Evans and put the blame on me! I would have ended on a gallows but for Bryan here!'

Onslow replied calmly, `But now you're free. I never intended you to die.' There was sweat on his forehead, and the knuckles around the pistol were white. `You can stay with us, and welcome.'

Allday ignored him and turned to the men on deck. `There are two French frigates out yonder, lads! Will you let the Phalarope fall to them because of the word of that murdering swine?' His voice grew louder. `You, Pochin? Are you such a fool that you cannot see your own death?' He seized another seaman by the arm. `And you, Ted! Can you live with this for the rest of your life?'

A babble of voices broke out, and even the man from aloft swarmed down to join the others in noisy argument.

Bolitho shot a glance at Herrick. It was now or never. He had seen two armed seamen walk aft- to see what was happening. They had to be the sentries guarding the rest of the prisoners.

But it was Vibart who acted first. Broken and bleeding, his head sunk dejectly in his shoulders, he was momentarily forgotten by the men around him.

With a sudden roar he lashed out and knocked his guards sprawling.

Bolitho yelled, 'Neale! Now, for God's sake!'

As he shouted he threw himself bodily sideways into Onslow, and together they rolled kicking and fighting across the deck.

Pook screamed with fury and had his feet kicked from under him by Herrick, who scooped up his pistol, cocked it and fired in a matter of seconds. The force of the shot lifted Pook from his knees and smashed him back against a carronade, his jaw and half his face blown to bloody fragments.

Somehow Onsiow managed to fight himself free, and with one great bound cleared the rail to land amidst the other seamen. The sudden pistol shot had left the men standing like statues, but as Onslow hit the deck he snatched up a cutlass and yelled, `To me, lads! Kill the bastards!'

Bolitho seized Onslow's pistol and fired point-blank at a man by the wheel, and then gasped, `Go aft, Mr. Proby! Get weapons!'

There was a ragged volley from the forecastle, and the stunned mutineers reeled back across the maindeck as another handful of seamen surged up from below led by Belsey, the master's mate, his injured arm strapped across his body, but wielding a boarding axe with his good hand.

Herrick shouted, `The boats are coming, sir!' He hurled his empty pistol at another shadowy figure and grabbed a cutlass from Proby. `My God, the boats are coming at last!'

Bolitho snapped, `Follow me!' Swinging the unfamiliar cutlass like a scythe he dashed down the ladder, hitting out with all his strength as a man charged across the deck with a long pike. He felt the hot blood spurt across his face as the massive blade sliced through the man's bulging neck artery as if it had been thread.

Faces loomed up, ugly and distorted, but faded into screams as he slashed his way across the deck to where Vibart was fighting with his bare hands against three mutineers. As he drove his cutlass into the nearest man's shoulder, he saw the sun gleam on a knife, and heard Vibart's great bellow of agony. Then he was down, and as the released men from the. cable tier charged into the fray, some of the remaining mutineers dropped their weapons and held up their hands. Bolitho slipped in some blood and felt someone lifting him to his feet. It was Allday.

He managed to gasp, `Thank you, Allday!'

But Allday was staring past him, to the far side, where encircled by levelled weapons and abandoned by his fellow conspirators, Onslow stood with his back against a gun, his cutlass still held in front of him.

Allday said, `He is mine, sir!'

Bolitho was about to answer when he heard Vibart calling his name. In three strides he reached the man's side and knelt on the stained planking where Ellice and Belsey were holding Vibart's shoulders clear of the deck. There was a thin ribbon of blood running from the corner of Vibart's mouth, and as he lay staring up at Bolitho's grave features he looked suddenly old and. frail.

Bolitho said quietly, `Rest easy, Mr. Vibart. We'll soon have you comfortable.'

Vibart coughed, and the blood dribbled down his chin in a growing flood. `Not this time. They've done for me this time!' He made as if to move his hand, but the effort was too much. From behind his shoulders the surgeon gave a quick shake of his head.

Bolitho said, `It was a brave thing you did.'

There was a clash of steel across the deck, and Bolitho turned to see Allday and Onslow circling each other with bared cutlasses. The other men stood watching in silence. This was no court martial. This was the justice of the lower deck.

Bolitho looked again at Vibart. `Is there anything I can do for you?'

The dying man grimaced as a fresh agony ran through his body. `Nothing. Not from you. Not from anybody!' He coughed again, but this time the torrent did not stop.

As the returning boats ground alongside and the gangways became alive with breathless men, Vibart died.

Bolitho stood up slowly and stared at the dead man. It was somehow typical and right that Vibart had remained unflinching and unshaken to the end.

He saw Captain Rennie and Midshipman Farquhar stepping over some wounded seamen, their faces drawn and ashen by what they saw. He clasped his hands behind him to hide his emotion from them.

`Put these men under guard, Mr. Farquhar. Then carry on at once with loading the fresh water. We sail as soon as it is Completed.' He walked slowly across to the opposite side, and as the men parted to let him through he saw Onslow staring up at him, his eyes already glazed in death.

All at once Bolitho felt sick and unclean, as if the mutiny had left him with another, deeper scar.

He said harshly, 'I hope we can match the French as well as we can fight each other!' Then he turned and strode aft.

Midshipman Maynard tapped on the door of Bolitho's cabin and reported breathlessly, `Mr. Herrick's respects, sir, and we have just sighted two sail on the starboard bow.' He darted a quick glance at the other officers who were standing beside Bolitho's desk. `It's the flagship, and the frigate Volcano.'

Bolitho nodded, his face thoughtful. `Thank you. My compliments to Mr. Herrick. Tell him to tack the ship to intercept.' He paused. `And have the prisoners ready to be sent across to Cassius.'

He listened to Maynard's feet scurrying up the cabin ladder and then turned back to the other officers. `Well, gentlemen, at last we have found the flagship.'

It had been two days since the Phalarope had crept away from the small islets. Two long days in which to think back on mutiny and murder. Bolitho had broken his normal practice of appearing regularly on the quarterdeck, and had spent long, brooding hours in his cabin, reliving each moment, torturing himself with regrets and recriminations.

He looked down at the chart and said slowly, `From what Allday described, I would say that the French are out in force. The two frigates were probably feelers from de Grasse's main fleet. If so, they have changed their plans.' He tapped the chart with one finger. `De Grasse would never waste frigates at a time like this. It looks to me as if he intends to avoid all the main channels and will use the Dominica Passage. That way he might well bypass our patrols.' He stopped thinking aloud, and with sudden briskness rolled up the chart and laid it to one side.

He said, `I shall go over to the Cassius and speak to the admiral.' He glanced at the neat pile of reports on the desk. `There is much that Sir Robert will wish to know.' How trite it sounded, he thought bitterly. Like items in the ship's log, bald of feeling or humanity. How could he describe the atmosphere on the maindeck when he had spoken a prayer before the shrouded corpses had slid over the side?

Lieutenant Vibart's body, alongside those of the dead mutineers. The rest of the crew had gathered round in silence.

Not just a silence of respect or sadness, but something much deeper. It was like an air of shanle, a combined feeling of guilt.

He stared at the watching officers beside him. Okes and Rennie. Farquhar and Proby.

Bolitho continued in the same curt tone, `You all showed great resource and courage. I have made a full report and I trust it will receive proper attention.' He did not add that without such a report from the ship's captain the story of the brief, savage mutiny would overshadow all else with the admiral and his superiors. As it was it might still be insufficient to save the ship's name from further harm.

He looked hard at Okes. `You will take over as first lieutenant of course, and Mr. Herrick will assume your duties forthwith.' He switched his gaze to Farquhar. `I do not have to add to what I have put in my report about you. You are appointed acting lieutenant immediately. I have no doubt whatever that it will be confirmed with equal speed.'

Farquhar said, `Thank you, sir.' He looked round as if expecting to see an immediate change in his surroundings. `I am very grateful.'

Okes said nervously, `I still can't believe that Mr. Vibart is dead.'

Bolitho eyed him impassively. `Death is the only thing which is inevitable, Mr. Okes. Yet it is the one thing we can never take for granted!'

There was a tap at the door and Stockdale peered in. `Flagship is signalling, Captain. For you to report on board as soon as possible.'

`Very well, Stockdale. Call away my boat's crew.' He added to the others, `Remember this, gentlemen. The Phalarope was nearly lost by mutiny.' He allowed his tongue to linger on the word. `What we have to decide now is. whether we have gained anything by a reprieve.' He saw their quick exchange of glances and continued, `The ship is either cleansed of evil or smeared by shame. The choice is ours. Yours and mine!' He looked around their grave faces. `That is all. You may go.'