Bolitho said, “I am sure you are being pessimistic, sir.”

“Merely cautious. I do not believe in sentiment. The fact is I do not entirely trust Sir Hugo.” He held up his hand. “That is all I can say. All I intend to say.”

Bolitho stared at him. “But, sir, his credentials must surely be in order?”

Broughton replied angrily, “Naturally. His status with the government is more than clear. His motives trouble me, however, so be warned and remember where your loyalty lies.”

“I think I understand my duty, sir.”

The admiral studied him calmly. “Don’t use that offended tone with me, Captain. I thought my last flagship was loyal until the mutiny. I’ll have nothing taken for granted in the future. When you are looking into the cannon’s mouth duty is a prop for the weak. At such a time it is true loyalty which counts.” He turned away. The brief confidence was over.

* * *

The conference was held in Bolitho’s day cabin, and everyone present seemed well aware of its importance. It was obvious to Bolitho that the news of the impending attack on Djafou and the lack of support from the bomb vessels had already reached each of the men now facing him. It was the strange, inexplicable way of things in any group of ships. News flashed from one to another almost as soon as the senior officer had decided for himself what was to be done.

As he had struggled through the mass of notes and scribbled plans which Broughton had sent for his examination he had wondered too if the admiral was testing him. It was, after all, their first real action together where the squadron would be used as a combined force. The fact that Broughton had pointedly suggested he should hold the conference in his own quarters added to the growing conviction that he was now under his scrutiny no less than any other subordinate.

He had met Draffen only once since his return on board. He had been friendly but withdrawn, saying very little about the impending action. Maybe like Broughton he wanted to see the flag captain at work on his own ground, unaided by either of his superiors.

He was sitting now beside Broughton at the cabin table, his eyes moving occasionally from face to face as Bolitho outlined what they had to accept regardless of opposition.

The deck was swaying heavily, and Bolitho could hear the scrape of feet on the poop, the dull mutter of canvas and spars as the ship heeled to a slow larboard tack. Astern, he could see the Valorous, her topsails drawing well, and knew that the steady north-westerly was already freshening. He had to be brief. Each captain had to return to his ship as soon as possible to explain his own interpretation of the plan to his officers. And their barge-men would face a long hard pull from the flagship, without having to fight the growing weight of the wind.