Keverne said, “I can see Tanais, sir.”

Bolitho nodded. The pink glow was etched along the seventy-four’s main yard like fairy fire in a Cornish wood, he thought. Her stern light already appeared fainter, and when he glanced up at the masthead pendant he saw the main topsail was shining with moisture and gaining colour with every slow minute.

There was a scrape of feet and Keverne whispered, “The admiral, sir.”

Broughton strode on to the quarterdeck and stared towards the distant mountain as Bolitho made his formal report.

“Cleared for action, sir. Chain slings rigged to the yards and nets spread.” Broughton could hardly not know of these things with all the noise they made. Screens torn down, guns released from their lashings; and the patter of many feet as the seamen prepared their ship and themselves to do battle. But it had to be said.

Broughton grunted. “Are we in sight of the squadron yet?”

“Tanais, sir. We will be able to signal the rest directly.”

The admiral walked to the lee side and peered towards the land. It was not much more than a darker shadow, above which the crested mountain seemed suspended in space.

He said, “I’ll be pleased when we can put the squadron about. I hate being on a lee shore and unable to see where I am.”

He fell silent again, and Bolitho heard the regular clump of shoes back and forth along the starboard gangway, like someone hitting a tree with a hammer.

Broughton snapped, “Tell that officer to stay still, damn him!”

Keverne relayed his sudden burst of irritation and Bolitho heard Meheux call, “I beg your pardon, Sir Lucius!” But he sounded cheerful for all that. Bolitho had recalled him from the Navarra to resume charge of his beloved upper battery of twelve-pounders, and Meheux had hardly stopped smiling since his return.

Nevertheless, it did reveal something of Broughton’s uneasiness.

Bolitho said, “I had the prisoner taken below to the orlop, sir.”

The admiral sniffed. “Damn Witrand! It would do him good to stay up here with us.”

Bolitho smiled. “One thing seems certain. He knows more of this place than I first suspected. When Mr Keverne went to escort him below he was dressed and ready. No surprise, sir, not what you would expect at all from a man innocent of military affairs.”

Broughton said, “That was shrewd of Keverne.” But it was only a passing interest, and Bolitho guessed his mind was still firmly fixed on what lay behind the shadows.

More feet clattered on the deck and Broughton swung round as Calvert stepped awkwardly over a gun-tackle.

“Mind your feet! You make more noise than a blind cripple!”

Calvert mumbled something in the gloom, and Bolitho saw some of the nearby gun crews grinning knowingly at each other. It must be over the whole ship about Calvert’s conflict with his admiral.

“Good morning, gentlemen.” Draffen came from beneath the poop, dressed in a frilled white shirt and dark breeches. He had a pistol in his belt, and sounded very refreshed, as if he had just emerged from a dreamless sleep.