As Keverne dashed away again Broughton asked sharply, “How long?”

“An hour at the most, sir. I’ll bring her up a point to the wind. That should help.”

“It will be too dark to see in three hours.” Broughton nodded grimly. “So be it then.”

The admiral was about to walk to the poop and then stopped to add softly, “But you disable my flagship, Bolitho, and I cannot promise any hope for you.”

Bolitho looked at the master. “Bring her round a point to wind’rd.”

Then he made himself walk slowly along the weather side, his hands clasped behind him. If the Euryalus was disabled, there would be little hope for any of them, he decided.

* * *

Bolitho trained his glass on the other ship. Since she had first appeared above the horizon and the Euryalus had cleared for action, he had expected some sign of alarm or recognition, but the oncoming vessel maintained her set course and now lay less than two miles distant. If Euryalus continued on her present tack the Spaniard would cross her stern with about a mile between them.

She was exactly as Keverne had described. Two-decked and carrying every available sail, she was making a fair display of speed, spray bursting above her scarlet and blue figurehead as high as the bellying forecourse. He could just distinguish the old-fashioned, triangular mizzen sail above her ornately carved poop, the flash of sunlight on trained telescopes as her officers examined the Euryalus, no doubt wondering at her purpose and destination.

Keverne said grimly, “Getting close, sir.”

Bolitho walked to the quarterdeck rail and saw a burly seaman standing amongst a chattering group of onlookers.

“Ready, Williams?”

The man squinted up at him and grinned awkwardly. “Aye, sir.”.

Bolitho nodded. The man had no doubt been well primed with rum by well-wishers. Not too much, he hoped, or the ruse might develop into a sudden sea burial.

He said, “Pass the word to the middle and lower gundecks, Mr Keverne.” He walked back to the weather side again and trained his glass on the other ship. “Starboard side to load with double shot. Make sure they do not run out until the order. One sight of a gun muzzle sniffing the wind and our friends will be off and away.”

As Keverne beckoned to a midshipman Bolitho called to Lieutenant Meheux who commanded the upper gundeck. He was staring at his own batteries, his round face unusually glum.

“Never fear, Mr Meheux, your crews will have work enough soon. But a view of them loading and casting off the lashings and our trick will misfire!”

Meheux touched his hat and then resumed his stance of gloomy disappointment.

Allday hurried across the quarterdeck and held out Bolitho’s sword. As Bolitho raised his hands and he swiftly buckled it around his waist, he said, “I’ve told the coxswain of the quarter boat what you want, Captain!” He grinned. “And what he’ll get if he makes a mess of it!”