Stand Into Danger by Alexander Kent Page A

on the water.
    It was an eerie feeling, with the ship so quiet around him. Nobody spoke, and the heavily greased gear was without its usual din and clatter. Just the sweeping sea alongside, the occasional rush of water through the lee scuppers as Destiny dropped her bows into a deep trough.
    Bolitho wanted to forget what was happening around him and to concentrate on what he had to do. Palliser had selected the best seamen in the ship for a boarding party if it came to that. But the sudden upsurge of wind might have changed Dumaresq’s ideas, he thought.
    He heard Jury moving restlessly by the nettings, and Rhodes’ midshipman, Mr Cowdroy, who had been in the ship for two years. He was a haughty, bad-tempered youth of sixteen who would be impossible as a lieutenant. Rhodes had had cause to report him to the captain more than once, and the last time he had been ignominiously caned across a six-pounder by the boatswain. It did not seem to have changed him. Little Merrett made up the trio, trying to keep out of sight, as usual.
    Rhodes said softly, “Soon now, Dick.” He loosened the hanger in his belt. “Might be a slaver, who knows?”
    Yeames, master’s mate of the watch, said cheerfully, “Not likely, sir. You’d smell a blackbirder by now!”
    Palliser snapped, “Be silent there!”
    Bolitho watched the sea curling above the dipping side in a frothing white bank. Beyond it there was nothing but an occasional jagged crest. As black as a boot, as Colpoys had remarked. His marksmen were already aloft in the tops, trying to keep their muskets dry and watching for the first sight of the stranger.
    If the captain and Gulliver had timed it correctly, the stranger should appear on Destiny ’s starboard bow. The frigate would hold the wind-gage and the other vessel would have no chance of slipping away. The men at the starboard battery were ready, the gun captains on their knees as they prepared to run out as soon as the word came from aft.
    To a civilian sitting by his hearth in England it might all seem like a kind of madness. But to Captain Dumaresq it was something else entirely, and it mattered. The other vessel, whatever she was, was interfering with the King’s affairs. That made it personal, not to be taken lightly.
    Bolitho gave another shiver as he recalled his first meeting with the captain. To me, to this ship, and to His Brittanic Majesty, in that order!
    Destiny raised her quivering jib-boom like a lance and seemed to hang motionless on the edge of another trough before she plunged forward and down, her bows smashing through solid water and flinging spray high above the forecastle.
    From one corner of his eye Bolitho saw something fall from overhead. It hit the deck and exploded with a loud bang.
    Rhodes ducked as a ball whined dangerously past his face and gasped, “A damned bullock has dropped his musket!”
    Startled voices and harsh accusations erupted from the gun-deck, and Lieutenant Colpoys ran to the quarterdeck ladder in his haste to deal with the culprit.
    It all happened in a swift sequence of events. The sudden explosion as Destiny ploughed her way towards the next array of crests, the attention of officers and seamen distracted for just a few moments.
    Palliser said angrily, “Stop that noise, damn your eyes!”
    Bolitho turned and then froze as out of the darkness, running with the wind, came the other vessel. Not safely downwind to starboard, but right here, rising above the larboard side like a phantom.
    â€œPut up your helm!” Dumaresq’s powerful voice stopped some of the startled men in their tracks. “Man the braces there, stand by on the quarterdeck!”
    Rearing and plunging, her sails booming and thundering in wild confusion, Destiny began to swing away from the oncoming vessel. Gun crews who minutes earlier had been nursing their weapons in readiness for a fight were caught totally unawares, and even now were