Richard Bolitho – Midshipman

He leaned forward, his face inches from Bolitho's. 'Well, are you?' 'I was saying that Mr Eden did well, sir. He had lost his weapon, and he is twelve years old, sir.' They faced each other, oblivious to everything about them. Then Tregorren nodded very slowly. 'So be it, Mr Bolitho. You will join the masthead lookout until I say differently. When we return to the ship I intend to have you put under arrest for gross insubordination.'

He nodded again. 'See how the family likes that, eh?' Bolitho felt his heart pumping against his ribs like a hammer. He had to repeat over and over in his mind: He wants me to strike him. He wants me to strike him. It would make Tregorren's actions complete, and for Bolitho final. 'Is that all, sir?' He barely recognized his own voice. 'Aye.' The lieutenant swung away, his sudden move making the mesmerized spectators scatter like rabbits. Tor the present.' Dancer walked to the main shrouds with him and said hotly, 'That was a foul thing to say! I felt like knocking him to the deck, Dick! ' 'So did I. ' Bolitho swung himself on to the ratlines and stared up at the mainyard. 'And he knew it.' Dancer said awkwardly, 'Never mind. We took the brig. That must count for something with Captain Conway.' 'It is all we have.' He started to climb. 'Be off, Martyn, or he'll have you all aback, too.' 'When you have finished, Mr Dancer! ' The voice searched him out from the shadows. 'Be so good as to find a cook and have the galley fire lit. These people look like scarecrows, and I can't abide filth! " Dancer called, 'At once, sir! ' He looked up at the black shrouds, but Bolitho had already vanished.

7. Mr Starkie's Story

RICHARD BOLITHO clung to a stay and watched the sky brightening reluctantly across the horizon. Little more than a grey blur, but in hours it would be almost too hot to think. He felt the mast shiver and vibrate as the Sandpiper responded eagerly to her bulging sails. He wondered how the wounded were getting on, if Lieutenant Hope was better, or giving way to his injury. A few figures were just visible on the brig's narrow poop and below the mainmast. He thought he could smell food from the galley and felt his stomach contract painfully. He could not remember when he had last eaten, and found himself hating Tregorren for keeping him aloft without relief. The lieutenant had been right about one thing. When the news reached the Bolitho home in Falmouth it would have lost the unfairness and hostility of the moment. It would be seen only as Tregorren intended. That Bolitho had acted badly and with insubordination against a superior officer. He heard heavy breathing and saw Dancer hauling himself up to the crosstrees beside him. He said, 'You'd better watch out, Martyn! " Dancer shook his head. 'It's all right, Dick. Mr Starkie sent me. He's worried about our lieutenant." Bolitho looked at him. 'Mr Hope? Is he worse?' 'He is as before.' Dancer clutched at a stay as the brig heeled violently in a sudden gust. 'It is Tregorren who is causing the concern.' He grinned. 'Although I must say I can't muster much grief! ' Bolitho reached out and stretched his cramped limbs. He was aching from exposure and felt clammy with salt spray. Dancer added, 'Mr Starkie thinks that he has a fever.' They slid down to the deck together and found the master's mate by the wheel with the helmsmen. Starkie said abruptly, 'It'll be dawn soon. I can't understand it. He's like a man possessed down there. I dunno what we'll do if we run into more trouble.'