Broughton nodded. “Yes, I saw them. Astern of them is the second-in-command.” He halted suddenly and snapped, “Where the hell is Coquette?”

“She is making good some repairs, sir. Auriga too has suffered damage to foremast and mizzen.” He added quietly, “They will not be of much use yet.”

Broughton looked at him for several seconds, his eyes very still. Then he asked, “Will our people fight?” He held up his hand urgently. “I mean really fight?”

Bolitho turned away. “Have no fear on that score. I know them, and . . .”

Broughton interrupted, “And they know you.”

“Yes, sir.”

When he looked forward again the enemy line had extended itself across either bow, so that it seemed to hide all of the horizon with a wall of sails. At any moment now the French admiral might guess what was happening, in which case they were beaten before they had made even the smallest impression on him. Had they been given more time, or better still the fluidity and independence denied to them by Broughton’s rigid demands, they could have sent some meaningless signal to Rattray and the others. It would have made the enemy believe that at any moment now they would tack and engage his line in the same hidebound traditional style still approved by so many. But without previous experiments of that sort, any false signal would throw their meagre resources into terrible and fatal confusion.

Unless . . . He looked at Broughton’s strained profile.

“May I suggest a general signal before the one to engage, sir?” He saw a nerve jumping in Broughton’s throat, but his eyes were unblinking as he stared at the oncoming ships. He persisted. “From you, sir.”

“Me?” Broughton turned and looked at him with surprise.

“You said earlier that our people know me, sir. But this is my ship, and they understand my ways, as I have tried to appreciate theirs.” He gestured towards Zeus. “But all these ships are yours, and they are depending on you today.”

Broughton shook his head. “I cannot do it.”

“May I speak, sir?” It was Calvert. “The signal should read ‘My trust is in you.’ ” He flushed as Keverne strode towards him and clapped him on the shoulder.

“By God, Mr Calvert, I never thought you had the imagination!”

Broughton licked his lips. “If you really believe . . .”

Bolitho nodded to Tothill. “I do, sir. Now get that bent on and hoisted immediately. We have little time left.”

He saw the sunlight flashing on glass as several officers on Zeus’s poop watched the sudden array of flags streaming from Euryalus’s yards.

But he turned swiftly as the air quaked and shook to a sudden roar of gunfire. The French flagship had fired, the orange flame spurting from gun after gun as she discharged a slow broadside towards the oncoming squadron. With the approach being diagonal, most of the balls were blind, and he saw them ripping through the short wave crests and throwing up water spouts far beyond the lee division. The smoke rolled down from the enemy in a steep brown fog, until only Zeus’s topmasts were visible.