Bolitho looked aloft, thinking of how she would appear to the Restless. The sloop was being made to beat into the teeth of the wind, and Broughton’s change of heart would save her and everyone else a good deal of time. Bolitho knew that Broughton’s reasons were probably different, that he really wished to get rid of Draffen, if only for a short while.

But, for a few moments he could feel content. The Euryalus was behaving magnificently, and he toyed with the idea of having Keverne set the royals as well. But that one extra layer of canvas might just be visible to some hostile craft as yet unseen below the horizon.

He turned as Draffen came on deck and said, “You wished to see her sail, sir.” He watched Draffen’s eyes hurrying about the taut, drumming shrouds, the hardbellied sails, appreciating everything he saw, if not understanding all of it.

He said, “She’s a lady, Bolitho. It makes all this trouble worthwhile.”

Bolitho noticed he was wearing a plain green coat and loose breeches. Under his coat he also saw the glint of metal. Draffen was obviously used to carrying a pistol, and seemed the sort of man who would be well able to take care of himself.

He was shading his eyes as he tried to understand what the Restless was trying to do as she reeled once again across the wind, her sails flapping and almost aback before she swung away on her new tack.

Bolitho crossed to the starboard side and looked for the squadron. Euryalus’s sudden increase of speed had left them bunched together and seemingly entangled, their silhouettes overlapping so that they looked like a single, ill-designed monster.

He called, “Mr Keverne, we’ll shorten sail in thirty minutes. Restless can lie under our lee until Sir Hugo is aboard.”

Later, while the Euryalus lay hove-to, her hull rolling sicken-ingly in a beam swell and her sails banging and useless in noisy torment, Broughton came on deck to watch as Draffen was rowed across in the sloop’s jolly boat.

He said, “Well, that is that.” He sounded satisfied.

Bolitho saw Draffen pause in his climb up the sloop’s side and turn to wave his hand.

He said, “I would like to tack to the nor’ east, sir. It will save time later when we run down and rejoin the squadron.”

Broughton turned his back on the sloop as her topsails filled to the wind and she started to pay off away from her massive consort. “Very well.” Broughton eyed him searchingly. “I suppose you cannot bear the thought of resuming your place in the line so soon after this brief freedom?” He smiled. “Well, it will do Furneaux no harm to exercise his power a little longer.”

Bolitho walked over to Keverne who was still watching the sloop. “We will steer nor’ east, Mr Keverne, lay her on the lar-board tack. So call all hands again, and then they can have their meal. I imagine the activity might have given them a new appetite.” He saw the villainous-looking chief cook, a bearded giant with one eye, peering up from the main hatchway. “Although I hate to think what he puts into it sometimes.”