Gillmor had said heavily, “So the Frogs intend to take Malta, eh? And then on and on, with not a British ship to stand against them!”

Inch had added, “There is nothing we can do without help.”

It had been like speaking his thoughts aloud. Bolitho had watched the doubt in their faces changing to caution and then to excitement as he had said, “I have always maintained, the fortress is Djafou. Without it the bay is unsafe for Frenchman, pirate, or for that matter ourselves. We must destroy it, blast it down so that it will take months, perhaps a year, to replace. Given that time we can return to these waters in strength, and meet the Frenchman where it hurts him most. At sea.”

Gillmor had put in a note of caution. “Sir Lucius Broughton must surely be consulted?”

Bolitho had pointed at the bay, the sea’s face ruffling in white-caps to the rising wind. “First we must strike at those who need this fortress so desperately for their own foul uses. The wind may hold, and if so, will give us an unexpected edge on them.”

That had been merely hours ago. Now it was time to act, otherwise the Hekla would have real difficulty in clawing past the fortress and to the open sea beyond. Coquette would remain at anchor, and should Bolitho’s attack fail, be prepared to act on his written orders. To demolish the fortress and remove every Spaniard, marine and other living soul with whatever resources at his disposal.

Gillmor had not let his disappointment at being left behind override his concern for Bolitho. “Supposing Alava’s information is false, sir, and you cannot find these Barbary pirates? Or you might be overwhelmed, in which case I will have to obey the orders you are leaving behind for me. It could well mean your ruin, when we all know you are only acting for the best.”

“If that occurs, Captain Gillmor, you will be spared from watching my final downfall.” He had smiled at Gillmor’s uncertainty. “For I will no doubt be dead.”

But as he picked up his hat from the commandant’s great chair Gillmor’s warning returned to him. With luck they should meet with Restless somewhere along the coast, and she, unlike the heavier frigate, would be able to give them support. With luck. It never did to rely on it too much.

He looked at Allday. “Ready?”

“Aye, Captain.”

Below on the jetty, the stonework of which still bore the scars of musket balls and Sawle’s explosive charge, the wind felt stronger. But it was clinging and oppressive and left grit or sand between the teeth. Bolitho saw several boats coming through the breached wall crammed with passengers from the Navarra and some of Giffard’s marines. Bolitho had ordered that everyone but the pickets were to be withdrawn to the safety of the fortress, and he found time to wonder what they were thinking as they stared up at the grim walls like trapped animals.