Keverne gasped, “By God, those bastards have struck to the Frogs! They never even tried to fight ’em!” He sounded stunned with disbelief.

The Auriga was already drifting clear of the Frenchman, and there was fresh activity on her deck and yards as she swung slowly downwind and away from the helpless squadron. Through the glass Bolitho could see her marines, their red coats making a patch of colour as they were disarmed and herded below by a French boarding party. Not that a boarding party was necessary, he thought bitterly. The whole of the ship’s company, which seconds before had been fighting so well, had surrendered. Gone over to the enemy. He replaced the glass, unable to hold it because his hand was shaking with both anger and despair.

Without effort he could see the delegates gathered in the little inn at Veryan Bay. Allday and his hidden pistol. The man called Gates. And John Taylor, crucified and maimed because he had tried to help.

Partridge said in a small voice, “No chance of catchin’ ’em now. They’ll be in Vigo afore dusk.” He looked away, his shoulders slumped. “To see it ’appen like that!”

Broughton was still staring at the two frigates, which were already pulling away and spreading more sail.

“You may signal Restless to take station to windward!” He sounded remote, like a stranger. “Then make a general signal to resume original course! He looked at Bolitho. “So there’s an end to your talk of loyalty.” His tone was like a whip.

Bolitho shook his head. “You told me you must understand a captain as much as the ship he commands. I believe you, sir.” He moved his gaze towards the distant Auriga. She seemed to have grown smaller under the alien flag. “Just as I believe that while men like Brice are permitted their authority, such things as we have witnessed today may continue.”

Broughton stepped back, as if Bolitho had uttered some terrible obscenity. Then he said, “Captain Brice may have fallen in battle.” He walked aft. “For his sake, I trust that is the case.” Then he vanished into the gloom below the poop.

Lieutenant Meheux said loudly, “Well, there was nothing we could do to stop it. Now, if I could have got my battery to bear we could have given them a lesson in manners.”

Several unemployed officers joined in the discussion, and Allday, who had been standing below the poop in case he was needed, glared at them with disgust.

He saw Bolitho pacing slowly back and forth on the weather side, his head lowered in thought. All the rest of them were pretending to console him and themselves, but really they wanted to be reassured and had no idea what the captain was thinking.

But Allday knew, had seen the pain in his grey eyes at the first sight of that hated tricolour. He would be recalling the time he had been made to fight another British ship under an enemy flag, with his own brother in command.