Hell's Fire - By Brian Freemantle Page 0,72

…’

‘You’re most kind, Sir Joseph,’ blushed Elizabeth.

Slowly they began to move along the walkway towards the main building, from which the monarch would emerge.

‘How is the King?’ enquired Bligh, immediately. He felt very contented at having made contact with Sir Joseph before the sovereign came out to greet the guests. Now he was guaranteed an introduction.

‘Occupied with affairs of state. But well,’ reported Banks, discerning a point to Bligh’s question.

Bligh frowned.

‘Were it not for the problems it might have caused,’ disclosed Banks, nodding towards where the foreign ambassadors were clustered, ‘the event would have been cancelled. As it is, the King’s appearance will be very brief.’

‘How brief?’

‘A walk along the main thoroughfare. Perhaps the briefest stop at the big pavilion, that’s all.’

He’d rarely seen Pitt so agitated, reflected Banks. But for the man’s concern with some unforeseen disaster that might befall the King, his annoyance over the Bligh invitation would have been far greater. Banks felt the ministers were far too nervous about the King’s health: it had been several years since his last collapse.

‘I had hoped …’ trailed Bligh, still hopeful.

‘Impossible, I fear,’ refused Banks. ‘We’re anxious there should be no encounters whatsoever.’

‘How much longer do you anticipate the enquiry will continue in Portsmouth?’ asked Bligh. Banks would be receiving daily reports even more detailed than those being put into public circulation, Bligh guessed.

‘Almost over now,’ generalised Banks. ‘Unpleasant business.’

‘Have you read my replies?’

‘Aye,’ replied Banks. ‘But there was little need for me to have done so. I’ve never doubted you.’

‘For which I’m grateful,’ said Bligh.

‘Still wish you’d taken my advice and not involved yourself in a public argument,’ said Banks, regretfully.

‘It’s been an expensive business,’ embarked Bligh. It was an ideal opportunity to discuss his problem, he thought. But faced with admitting his penury to his patron, Bligh held back, embarrassed. It was not in his character to beg, for anything.

‘Expensive?’ helped Sir Joseph.

Bligh nodded. ‘My only wish is to serve my King and my country,’ he said, choosing an easy path. ‘As well you must know. But I’ve made two trips to Tahiti now for less than a quarter of the salary I would be getting as a merchant captain.’

It had been careless of him not to have realised the difficulty, decided Banks. One of the favourite stories from the court martial was how Bligh had manipulated the Bounty’s victualling to make a profit. Here, perhaps, was the reason.

‘The Admiralty still refuse to see me to discuss my next position. They plead embarrassment for the duration of the court martial,’ said Bligh. ‘So I’m considering accepting the offer from Mrs Bligh’s family to return to the merchant service.’

Bligh’s critics would see it as running away, decided Banks. Which perhaps it would be. He felt very responsible for the man. Whatever his personality defects, he was a brilliant seaman and a competent administrator. And undeniably brave. He needed help, not the treatment being presently accorded him.

Brave administrator. The phrase presented itself in the man’s mind, as if for examination. Would Bligh be the man to solve one of the country’s many problems? wondered Banks. At dinner only yesterday Pitt had been bemoaning the difficulty and the fact that there were more pressing problems nearer home which prevented him from giving it his full attention. The idea would arouse enormous opposition, he knew. Few would see Bligh as the ideal choice. But there was no argument that couldn’t be overcome, if he were sufficiently determined. And he was determined, decided Banks. Bligh undoubtedly possessed the qualities necessary for what he was considering.

He stopped, so that Bligh halted alongside.

‘Delay a while,’ he advised. ‘Keep your commission a few more weeks, at least.’

‘Why, sir?’ demanded Bligh, curiously.

‘I’ve always been a good adviser to you,’ avoided Banks. ‘And I hope to remain so. Let’s just get this damned court martial out of the way.’

‘Another position?’ anticipated Bligh, eagerly.

The King’s arrival spared Banks from replying. The portly figure was surrounded by court intimates and there was an outer protection of politicians, both in and out of the government. Queen Charlotte was on the King’s right arm. Bligh identified the Duke of Clarence and smiled in recognition. The King’s son saw him and nodded. Lord Hawkesbury was in attendance, Bligh saw, with Henry Addington. And Lord Grenville, always the eager politician. The shy King was smiling, emptily, unhappy at so many people. His difficulty with a large crowd was legendary, remembered Bligh; he must be hating it. The promenade had been cleverly staged, with