He said quietly, “Oars! Easy with those blades now! You sound like a lot of damn cattle!”

The boat rode uneasily in the inshore swell while the weary sailors fell across their oars and sucked gratefully at the damp air. The pinnace moved out of the gloom and lay close by, and then the cutter crossed to the other side and paddled nearer so that Midshipman Maynard could make himself heard.

“What shall we do, Mr Herrick?”

“Lie here for a bit!” Herrick spoke slowly to give himself time to sort out his hazy ideas. He wished Maynard would not sound so lost and bewildered in front of his men. Things were already bad enough. He added, “Where is Mr Parker and the jolly-boat?”

Maynard shrugged, and Packwood, the boatswain’s mate, called quickly from the pinnace, “We’ve lost sight of him long since, Mr Herrick!”

Herrick controlled his reply with an effort. “Maybe he turned back!”

A seaman murmured, “Sunk more likely!”

Herrick made up his mind. “Come alongside! But get some fenders out!”

He waited, holding his breath as the two boats sidled against the launch. At each creak and thud he expected to hear shouts from ashore, or the ominous rattle of musket fire. But only the wind and the hissing spray interrupted his words as Maynard and Packwood craned to hear him.

“If we pull around the point we shall be too late to make an attack.”

Maynard muttered petulantly, “We were given too far to row in my opinion. It was impossible from the start!”

Herrick snarled, “No one is asking for your opinion, so just listen to me will you?” Herrick was surprised at the savagery in his own voice but hurried on, “There should be a bit of foreshore below the point, so we’ll head for it now. Mr Packwood will wait with half a crew per boat and lie as close as possible to the rocks.” He waited, feeling the tension dragging at his patience. “Understand?”

They nodded doubtfully and he continued, “Mr Maynard will accompany me ashore with thirty men. If we scale the point we should be able to see down the other side. If the Andiron is still there we might try an attack even now, especially if she looks peaceful enough and is close to the headland. Otherwise we will head back to the picking-up area.” He had a brief picture of Vibart’s scorn and rage when he returned to announce the failure of the attack. He again felt the same unreasonable anger at the mission. The admiral should have sent a heavier force. Even the Cassius would have helped just by adding her strength and availability for the final withdrawal.

Perhaps it was his own fault after all. If he had not trusted Vibart’s complacency and had checked the distance from the shore more carefully. If only he had allowed for the change of wind and the savage offshore drift. He shook himself angrily. It was too late now. The present was all that counted.