Belsey said, “Fair enough, sir. But this motion is makin’ me sweat!”

The ship’s uneasy movement had certainly increased even during the last hour. The storeroom was below the Andiron’s water-line, and the savage jarring of the anchored hull was all the more apparent. The crew had already paid out more hawse to compensate for the sudden change of wind which now swept across the once protected anchorage with mounting ferocity.

Belsey added, “Maybe the Phalarope will stand out to sea agin, sir? Surely they’ll not send boats out in this lot?”

Bolitho was glad the others could not see his face. A change of weather would make little difference to Vibart’s determination to produce a victory, he thought. From the moment the signal had been flashed down the hillside to the hidden defenders he had felt a growing despair, the fretting certainty of calamity and destruction for the Phalarope and her company. And he was powerless to help a single man.

He felt a sudden pressure at his shoulders as the ship heeled in a deep swell. She was snubbing at her cable at regular intervals now, and he could feel the deck lifting and then sliding back with each shuddering jerk.

He found himself thinking again of his brother, and wondered what he was doing at this moment. His earlier eagerness at the proposed massacre of Phalarope’s boarding party must have given way a little to the anxiety for his own ship’s safety. At any other time he would have made sail and headed for the more sheltered side of the island. It was strange how the unexpected change of weather had taken a part in the game. Not that it could have any final effect. It merely prolonged the misery of waiting.

Farquhar said absently, “I wish something would happen! This waiting is getting on my nerves!”

Bolitho shifted his position to stare at the brightly lit crack in the storeroom door. Occasionally a shadow blotted out the tiny sliver of light as a sentry moved his position in the narrow passageway beyond. As he rearranged his cramped limbs Bolitho felt the warm touch of steel against his leg and remembered the hidden dirk. For all the use it was now he could have left it in the cabin, he thought wearily.

It was strange that the guards had not bothered to search him. But they were so openly confident, and with such good reason, that it was only to be expected. Even his brother had found time to see him just as he was being led below to the storeroom.

Hugh Bolitho had been wearing his father’s sword, as well as a brace of pistols, and seemed to have gained new life and excitement from the impending battle.

“Well, Richard. This is your last chance.” He had stood easily on the swaying deck, his head on one side as he had watched his brother with something like amusement. “Just one decision, and it is yours to make!”