He felt a fresh pang of inner pain as he saw one of the Andiron’s cutters unloading fruit alongside. There was no mistaking the bulky shape of Stockdale straddle-legged on the gunwale tossing up the nets of fruit as if they were weightless.

Strangely, that had been almost the hardest thing to bear. Stockdale of all people. Whether he had been eager or reluctant, Bolitho did not know, but he had gone over with the privateer’s crew, and like sheep the other men from his raiding party had followed suit. He knew he could not blame them. If Stockdale, the captain’s trusted coxswain, could change colours, why not they?

Stockdale looked up, squinting against the sun. Then he threw a mock salute, and some of the men laughed delightedly.

The American officer of the watch said dryly: “Sometimes I think there’s no such thing as loyalty, Captain! Just a price!”

Bolitho shrugged. “Perhaps.”

The officer seemed glad of a chance to break Bolitho’s brooding silence. “I can’t get over your being our captain’s kin. It makes it kind of unnerving. But then I guess it’s that way with you?”

Bolitho glanced quickly at the officer’s tanned features. It was a friendly face. And that of a man lonely and tired by war, he thought. He said evenly, “Have you been with him long?”

“A year or so.” The man frowned. “It seems longer now. He came aboard as first lieutenant, but soon got command when the skipper was killed in a fight with one of your ships off Cape Cod.” He grinned. “But I hope I’ll be able to go home soon. I’ve a wife and two boys waiting for me. I should be tending my farm, not fighting King George!”

Bolitho recalled his brother’s firm promise that he was returning to Cornwall to claim his rightful inheritance, and felt the same savage bitterness as when he had heard the words the first time.

He controlled his rising emotion and asked quietly, “Do you really think it will be that simple?”

The man stared at him. “What could happen now? I don’t mean to add insult to injury, Captain, but I don’t really think the British stand much of a chance to regain America.”

Bolitho smiled. “I was thinking more of the French. If as you say American independence will be ratified by all those concerned, do you imagine the French will be prepared to sail away and leave you alone? They have done most of the fighting, remember. Without their fleet and supplies do you think you would have succeeded thus far?”

The American scratched his head. “War makes strange allies, Captain.”

“I know. I have seen some of them.” Bolitho looked away. “I think the French will want to stay out here, as they tried to do in Canada.” He shook his head. “You could easily exchange one master for another!”

The officer yawned and said wearily, “Well, it’s not for me to decide, thank the Lord!” He shaded his eyes and peered towards the dark shadow below Saddle Hill. A white and blue dot was moving rapidly down the rough track from the summit in a cloud of dust.