He replied, “For years, sir. He was my first lieutenant. He is my friend also.”

Broughton eyed him warily and then snapped, “Signal the squadron to heave to. Make to Impulsive. Captain, repair on board.” He watched the flags breaking into the wind and added, “I hope he’ll be of some use.”

Bolitho smiled and said simply, “Without him, sir, this ship would still be under French colours!”

The admiral grunted. “Well, we shall see. I will be aft when he comes aboard!”

Keverne waited until Broughton had gone and then asked, “Did he really help take this ship, sir? In a small fourth-rate like that?”

Bolitho eyed him pensively. “My own ship was almost done for. Captain Herrick in his little sixty-four, which is a good deal older than you are, came to grips without hesitation!” He waved his hand across the busy quarterdeck. “Just there it was, by Mr Partridge. The French admiral surrendered.”

Keverne smiled. “I never knew.” He stared at the orderly deck as if expecting to see some sign of the bloody battle which had swayed back and forth across it.

Tothill slid down a backstay shouting, “All acknowledgements hoisted, sir! Close up!”

Bolitho looked at Keverne. “Execute. And have the side manned to receive our guest.”

* * *

Bolitho guided his friend below the poop, out of the glare and the din of flapping canvas, and then faced him by the companionway.

“Oh, Thomas, it is good to see you!”

Herrick’s face, which had been tight with concern at seeing Bolitho’s wounded arm, split into a wide grin.

“I don’t have to say how I felt when I heard my orders to join your squadron.”

Bolitho steadied himself against the sickening motion as Euryalus floundered in a beam sea and studied him eagerly. Rounder in the face, with a few grey hairs showing beneath his gold-laced hat, but still the same. The same eyes, of the brightest blue Bolitho had ever seen.

“Tell me about Adam. Is he with you?”

“Aye.” Herrick looked at the marines below the ladder which led to Broughton’s quarters. “Burning himself to ashes in eagerness to see you again.”

Bolitho smiled. “After you have spoken with Sir Lucius we will talk.”

Herrick gripped his good arm. “We will that!”

As he stood aside to allow Herrick on to the ladder he saw the twin gold epaulettes on his shoulders. A post-captain now. In spite of everything, Herrick, like himself, had endured.

Broughton half rose from his desk as they entered the spacious cabin. “You have despatches for me, Captain?” He was very formal. “I was not expecting another ship.”

Herrick laid a sealed envelope on the desk. “From Sir John Jervis, sir.” He grimaced. “I beg pardon, I meant Lord St Vincent, as he is now titled.”

Broughton tossed the envelope to Calvert who was hovering nearby and snapped, “Tell me the news. What of the damned mutiny?”

Herrick watched him guardedly. “There was some bloodshed, and more than a few tears, but after Their Lordships made certain concessions the people agreed to return to duty.”