Gates glared around him. “Well, lads, are you still with me?”

Taylor looked at the others. “We’ll ’ave a parley. But I’m for takin’ Cap’n Bolitho’s word as it stands.” He rubbed his mouth. “I’ve worked all me life to get as far as I ’ave, an’ no doubt I’ll lose what I’ve gained. I’ll most likely taste the cat, but it won’t be the first time. Rather all that than live in misery. An’ I don’t fancy spendin’ the rest o’ me days in some Frog town or ’idin’ whenever I sees a uniform.” He turned to the door. “A parley, lads.”

Gates watched them file out and then said quietly, “If they agree to your empty promises, Captain Bolitho, then I’ll first take his confession down in writing.”

Bolitho shook his head. “You can give your evidence at the court-martial.”

“Me?” Gates laughed. “I’ll not be aboard when these fools are taken!” He twisted round to listen to the babble of voices. “I will be back.” Then he left the cabin.

Brice breathed out slowly. “That was a terrible risk. They might still not believe you.”

“We can only hope.” Bolitho sat down. “And I trust that you believe it also. That was no mere threat to deceive either them or you.”

He glanced at the door, trying not to show his uncertainty. “That man Gates seems to know a great deal.”

“He was my clerk.” Brice sounded lost in thought. “I caught him stealing spirits and had him flogged. By God, if I ever get my hands on him . . .” He did not continue.

The cabin lanterns swayed in unison and settled at a steeper angle. Bolitho cocked his head to listen. There was more breeze, so the mist might not come after all. Perverse as ever, the Cornish weather was always ready to make a man a liar.

The door banged open and Taylor entered the cabin. “We’ve decided, sir.” He ignored Brice. “We agree.”

Bolitho stood up and tried to hide his relief. “Thank you.” A boat thudded against the hull and he heard orders being shouted to the oarsmen.

Taylor added, “They’ve gone for the others, sir, an’ yer cox’n.” He dropped his eyes. “Gates ’as run.”

More voices, and three lieutenants, dishevelled and apprehensive, stepped into the cabin. Two were very young, the third, tall and tight-lipped, was obviously the first lieutenant, the one Taylor had described as taken with abusing the people, having them flogged at the slightest pretext. He thought of Keverne and was suddenly grateful.

The lieutenant said harshly, “I am Massie, sir, the senior.”

He glanced enquiringly at Brice but stiffened as Bolitho said, “You will place yourself under open arrest.” He added sharply, “For your own good at present.”

He looked at the other officers. “How is the wind?”

“Freshening, sir. From the sou’ west.” The young lieutenant sounded dazed.

“Very well. Inform the master that we will be raising the anchor as soon as the boat returns. If we are to reach Falmouth before morning we must beat well clear of the bay.” He forced a smile. “I’d not wish to have the Auriga piled on Gull Rock for all to see!”