Meheux entered the cabin, his shoes crunching on broken glass. He looked tired and strained, like the rest of the boarding party.

“We seem to have got some sort of mid-day meal cooking at last, sir.” He gestured to the chart. “Any hope of fixing our position yet?”

“No.” There was little point in deluding the lieutenant. If anything happened to himself, it would be Meheux’s job to get the ship to safety. “To be becalmed like this is no help at all.” He studied Meheux gravely. “How are you managing with the passengers?”

He shrugged. “They are chattering like a lot of gulls. I don’t suppose they realise yet what is happening to them.”

Nor I, Bolitho thought. He said, “After our people have eaten we will put them to work again on the hull. The water intake is still very bad, so make sure the pumps are inspected too.”

Allday appeared in the sagging doorway, his face set in a frown. “Pardon, Captain, but one of the Dons wishes to speak with you. But if you wish, I’ll send him packing so that you can have your meal in peace.”

Meheux nodded and said, “I am sorry, I forgot to mention it. The little fat Spaniard who has been helping Ashton with the interpreting asked me earlier. With so much on my mind . . .”

Bolitho smiled. “I doubt that it is of much importance, but have him sent in, Allday.” To Meheux he added, “I am so desperate for information I have little choice in the matter.”

The Spaniard entered nervously, his head bowed beneath the deck beams although he had a good two feet clearance. He was wearing his wig, but Bolitho realised with surprise that it made him look older rather than more youthful.

Bolitho had already discovered his name was Luis Pareja, on passage to Port Mahon where he apparently intended to end his years.

“Well, señor, what can I do for you?”

Pareja peered round at the shot holes and charred woodwork before saying timidly, “Your ship did terrible damage, Captain.”

Meheux muttered harshly, “Had we given you a full broadside you would be down on the sea bed with those others, so mind your manners!”

Pareja flinched. “I did not mean to imply that you . . .”

He shifted his feet and tried again. “Many of the others are worried. They do not know what is to happen, or if we will reach our homes again.”

Bolitho eyed him thoughtfully. “This ship is now a British prize. You must understand it is not possible in war to know exactly how such matters will proceed. But there is ample food aboard, and I expect to meet with our ship soon.” He imagined he saw a flash of doubt in the man’s eyes and added firmly, “Very soon now.”

“I shall tell them.” Pareja sounded less sure than ever. “If I can help in any way, then please tell me, Captain. You saved our lives by staying with the ship, that I do know. We would certainly have perished otherwise.”