Bolitho watched the admiral, expecting him to explode at the lieutenant’s rare show of defiance.

But he said indifferently, “If you had, the request would probably have been denied!” He pointed at the door. “Now get to work on those orders and see they are ready for signature in one hour.” He swung on his clerk. “And you can stop grinning like an old woman and help him!” His voice pursued him to the door. “Or I’ll have you flogged for good measure, damn you!”

The door shut and Bolitho felt the cabin closing in on him in the oppressive silence.

But Broughton said wearily, “Be seated.” He walked to the table and picked up a decanter. “Some claret, I think.” Almost to himself he added, “If I see one more snivelling subordinate before I take a drink I feel I must surely go out of my mind.” He walked to Bolitho’s chair and held out a glass. “Your health, Captain. I am surprised to see you again, and from what Gillmor of the Coquette has been babbling about, I think you too must feel some relief at being spared.” He walked to the quarter windows and stared towards the Navarra. “And you have a prisoner, they tell me?”

“Yes, sir. I believe him to be a courier. He was carrying no letters, but it seems he was to be transferred to another vessel at sea. The Navarra was well off her course, and I think he may have been intended to land in North Africa.”

Broughton grunted. “He may tell us something. These French officials are well versed in their duties. After watching their predecessors losing their heads in the Terror, they have to be. But a promise of a quick exchange with an English prisoner might help loosen his tongue.”

“My cox’n got to work on his servant, sir. A plentiful cargo of wine was very helpful. Unfortunately, the man knew little of his master’s mission or destination, other than that he is a serving officer in the French artillery. But I think we might keep our knowledge a secret until we can make better use of it.”

Broughton watched him bleakly. “That will be too late anyway.” He crossed to the decanter again, his face set in a frown. “Draffen has obtained an excellent plan of Djafou and its defences. He must have some very remarkable friends in such a loathsome area.” He added slowly, “Coquette brought me bad news. Apparently there has been some extra Spanish activity, especially at Algeciras. It is feared the two bomb vessels cannot sail without an escort. And with the threat of another Franco–Spanish attempt on our blockade, no such frigates can be spared.” He gripped his fingers together and snapped, “They seem to blame me for Auriga’s desertion to the enemy, damn them!”

Bolitho waited, knowing there was more. It was very bad news indeed, for without bomb vessels this particular assault might have to be postponed. But he could appreciate the decision not to send them without escort. They were unwieldy in any sort of a sea and easy prey for a patrolling enemy frigate. The Auriga could indeed have been held at Gibraltar for the task, and the Commander-in-Chief probably thought Broughton’s inability to hold on to her a good excuse for not releasing any of his own from the blockade of Cadiz and the Strait of Gibraltar.