A small lantern appeared around a screen and he saw their two figures peering down at him.

Allday whispered, “My God, I must call Mr Angus!”

“Wait.” She stooped over the bed so that he could feel her hair touching his face. Then, “Don’t fetch him yet. You know what these surgeons are like. They understand little more than the saw of the knife.” She spat out the word. “Butchers.”

“But look at him!” Allday was desperate. “We can’t leave him like this!”

Bolitho could not speak. He was very weak, and yet for the first time he could feel his right hand. His arm was too painful and stiff to move, but he could feel it. The sudden excitement of the discovery only added to his sweating fever, and he could not stop his teeth from chattering.

He heard her say quietly, “Go to the next room, Allday.” Then more firmly, “It is all right. I know what to do.”

The door opened and closed, and Bolitho vaguely imagined Allday crouching like a dog on the other side of it. Then he heard a swift rustle of silk, and before the lantern vanished behind the screen he saw her body very white against the shadowed wall, her hair loose across her naked shoulders. The sheet was pulled down, and with hardly a sound she slid in beside him, her breast and thigh closely pressed against his body while she cradled his head into her arm. As the night passed, and between moments of deep sleep and distorted dreams, he heard her speaking softly to him, like a mother to a sick child, the sounds more reassuring than actual words. The heat of her body enfolded him like a warm cloak, driving out the chill and bringing a sense of peace to his throbbing mind.

When next he opened his eyes there were chinks of bright sunlight slanting through the shutters, and for a moment longer he thought all else had been another dream. Allday was lolling in his chair, and he saw the gleam of a yellow dress beside one of the windows where she sat in a high-backed seat.

She stood up and murmured, “You look so much better.” Then she gave a small, secret smile, and Bolitho knew it had not been any dream. “How do you feel?”

He felt his lips giving way to her smile. “Hungry.”

Allday was on his feet. “A miracle.”

Feet clattered in the stone corridor beyond the door and Keverne, followed by Calvert, entered the room. Keverne’s dark features relaxed slightly as he saw Bolitho smiling.

He said, “I came as soon as I was able, sir.”

Bolitho propped himself on his elbow. “What happened?”

The lieutenant shrugged wearily. “We sighted two French seventy-fours and gave chase. Darkness came down, but Sir Lucius insisted we keep after ’em,” he sounded bitter, “and in close formation.”

“Continue.” Bolitho could see it all in his mind. The ships trying to maintain Broughton’s fixed formation under full sail. The wind and noise, the frantic efforts to watch the other ships’ stern lights.