Colours Aloft! by Alexander Kent Page B

entered, but Yovell merely shrugged his sloping shoulders.
    â€œSir?”
    â€œGo with Yovell and fetch that girl aft.” He saw their surprise. “Now, if you please.”
    Keen would be busy on deck watching the other ships as they acknowledged and obeyed the signals from the flag.
    Allday’s jaw looked stubborn.
    â€œIf you thinks it’s wise, sir—”
    Bolitho eyed him firmly. “I do.”
    He saw Ozzard lifting his coat from a chair but shook his head. Any sort of liaison would be destroyed before it had begun if she found herself confronted by a vice-admiral.
    From what Keen and Tuson had said she seemed to be an intelligent girl, and her father’s influence had obviously gained her some education.
    He was interfering, but he had seen Keen’s face whenever he had mentioned the girl. Bolitho had not forgotten what it was like; he must act before the girl was taken from the ship.
    He was totally unprepared for what happened next.
    Yovell opened the screen door and the girl walked hesitantly towards the stern cabin. Against Allday’s powerful figure she looked small, but her head was up, and only her eyes moved as she paused below the skylight.
    She was dressed in a white shirt and breeches of one of the midshipmen, and her long brown hair was pulled back to the nape of her neck with a ribbon, so that she almost looked as if she belonged in the gunroom. But her feet were bare, small like her hands, and Yovell explained hastily, “Even the young gentlemen didn’t have shoes small enough for her.”
    Bolitho said, “Sit down. I wish to talk with you.”
    He saw the stiff way she held her shoulder. Tuson had said her back would be scarred for life. And that had been from just one stroke.
    â€œI should like to know—” He saw her eyes level on his; they were dark brown, misty. No wonder Keen was under some kind of magic. “—what brought you to these circumstances.”
    Yovell murmured, “Tell, Sir Richard, lass, he’ll not eat you.”
    She started with alarm, her lips parting as she exclaimed, “ Sir Richard!”
    Bolitho wanted to glare at Yovell but said, “Just tell me. Please.”
    But she stared at him. “But—but I’ve met the captain?”
    Yovell said patiently, “The admiral here commands all the ships, all the captains, Miss, and some two thousand eight hundred jack tars and marines.” He watched her gravely. “A big job to do, so speak up an’ don’t you waste his time, eh?”
    Bolitho smiled. “He means well, er, Zenoria, isn’t it?”
    She looked at her hands in her lap. Then she said, “They took my father, sir. He was a fine man, a clever man too. He believed in people’s rights.” Her eyes took on a faraway look and Bolitho found he was holding his breath. Just to hear her speak. It was like hearing Cornwall again.
    â€œI saw him hang, sir.”
    â€œBut why?”
    â€œIt was the squire, sir. He came to the house with some of his men and they tried to smash his press. My father soon showed them.” Her chin lifted with sudden pride so that she looked all the more vulnerable. “He pulled the squire from his horse, and others came from the village to help him. Someone was killed. Then the dragoons came and took him away.”
    â€œHow old were you then?”
    â€œSeventeen, sir. That was two years ago. They sent me to Dorset, to work in a big household and help teach the children there.”
    It was difficult to speak as he wished with Yovell and Allday listening. But he had to be certain she was not lying, not a whore as stated by Orontes ’ master. It could be dangerous to be alone with her.
    â€œTell me about what happened in Lyme.”
    Yovell said severely, “Your warrant will come aboard, my lass, so no use lying about it!”
    â€œFor God’s sake, man, hold your tongue!” Bolitho saw the girl cringe