“I want to know, Matthew. You had better tell me now.”

Okes seemed to have recovered himself, and when he looked at Herrick his eyes were opaque and expressionless. “I told the truth, damn you!” He tried to smile. “But you should not worry too much. You’ll be moving up to second lieutenant!”

Herrick stepped back and looked at him with disgust. “And you will be first, no doubt! And both you and Vibart will be the heroes of the day!”

Okes’s face drained of colour. “How dare you! You were not there, so it is easy to be jealous and insulting! Bolitho was only a man!”

“And you are not fit to polish his shoes!” Herrick swung round as Vibart stepped between them.

“I will have no quarrelling aboard my ship, Mr Herrick. Any more of it and I will make an entry in the log!” He looked hard at Okes. “Come to the cabin. I have a few things to say to you.”

Herrick watched them go, sickened and helpless.

Little Neale asked quietly, “What does it all mean, sir?”

Herrick looked down at him, his face grave. “It means that we must watch our step in the weeks ahead, my boy. With the captain gone I feel no security here.”

He stiffened as he saw Evans, the purser, hurrying aft, an aggrieved expression on his ferret face. Behind him Thain, the master-at-arms, ushered two frightened-looking seamen, his face leaving Herrick in no doubt as to what would happen next. Floggings, and more floggings. All the old scores kept hidden while Bolitho had been in command would break into the open like festering sores.

He faced Evans and said sharply, “Well? What is it now?”

Evans smiled nervously. “Caught these men red-handed! Stealing rum they were!”

Herrick’s heart sank and he called the men forward. “Is that right?” He realised that both seamen had taken part in the raiding party.

One of the men said sullenly, “Aye, sir. The rum was for one of our mates. ’E was wounded. We reckoned it would ’elp ’im.” His companion nodded in agreement.

Herrick took Evans aside. “It could be true.”

“Of course it is true!” Evans stared at him in amazement. “But that is hardly the point! Stealing is stealing. There is no excuse, and you know it.” He eyed Herrick with little disguised glee. “So you had better inform Mr Vibart.” He drew himself up importantly. “Or I will, Mr Herrick!”

“Don’t you get stroppy with me, Evans!” Herrick’s face was a mask of fury. “Or I’ll have you broken, believe me!” But it was only anger. There was nothing else he could do but inform Vibart.

He handed over the watch to Neale and went wearily below. The sentry opened the cabin door for him before he had reached it, and Herrick guessed that the marine had correctly foreseen his surprise. Vibart had moved into Bolitho’s quarters already. It only added to Herrick’s sense of nightmarish unreality.

Vibart looked up from the desk and stared at him.