The Hekla’s topsails filled to the wind as she ploughed into the first inshore troughs. Holding the telescope with one hand was not easy, and he was dismayed to discover that he was already breathless from exhaustion. But just a moment longer. He edged the glass slowly across Hekla’s forecastle where the seamen in their checked shirts ran in orderly confusion to complete the new tack, and then saw Inch clinging to the low rail, his thin body leaning against the steep tilt as he waved his hat in the air. It was not hard to recall him on the exposed deck as the carronades kept up their savage bombardment, or his shock and grief at seeing him fall to that unknown marksman. Now, with his mixed flotilla and chattering passengers, he was taking another turn in his life, and it was to be hoped he reached Gibraltar without meeting an enemy.

He stiffened as he saw another figure moving carefully across the deck to Inch’s side. Even although the Hekla was now a good half-mile distant he could see her hair whipping out to the wind, the yellow dress very bright in the glare. She too was waving, her teeth white in her tanned face, and he imagined he could hear her voice once more, as he had listened to it in the night when all else was still and silent.

“Take the glass, Mr Tothill.”

Then, stiffly, he braced his legs and waved his own hat slowly back and forth. Some of the others watched him with surprise, but by the ladder Allday saw Bolitho’s face and gave a grateful smile.

It had been a close-run thing. And but for her . . . he shuddered involuntarily and turned to watch as Calvert walked moodily along the gangway and leaned against the nettings. He seemed to be more inside himself than ever, and hardly spoke, even to the other officers. That was a rare pity, Allday decided, for the flag-lieutenant was unaware how he was admiringly discussed on the crowded messdecks since his return. Allday shook his head. No doubt Calvert had a rich father who would save his neck, but maybe he no longer cared. As he stared down into the lively water alongside his face registered nothing at all.

“Ah, Calvert!” Everyone looked round as Broughton strode briskly from the poop. He raised his voice. “Come here!”

Calvert wandered aft and touched his hat, his eyes guarded. “Sir?”

“There is a lot I want done today.” Broughton watched idly as the Hekla butted her blunt bows into a lazy roller.

Then he looked at Bolitho and pursed his lips into the shadow of a smile. “So perhaps you would dine with me after we have done with the writing, eh?”

Allday saw Calvert’s jaw dropping open and felt more amazed than ever. Even Broughton, it appeared, had changed towards him.

Bolitho turned, caught unaware by the admiral’s voice. “I beg your pardon, sir. I did not see you.”