“I have nothing to say to you. Not now. Nor ever!” Bolitho had tried not to stare at the sword. It had been like a final insult.

“Very well. After this I may see little of you. I will have much to do.” He had stared up at the angry sky. “The wind is rising, but I expect to have visitors none the less!” He had added in a harder tone, “You will have to take your chances with the French authorities. I must take Andiron to join the combined fleets.”

He had seen his brother’s immediate caution and had continued calmly, “I can tell you now, Richard. For you will be unable to take part. The French admiral, de Grasse, will join with a Spanish squadron. Together with our ships they will attack Jamaica.” He had made a curt gesture as if to demonstrate the finality of the campaign. “I am afraid King George will have to find fresh fields to conquer elsewhere!”

Bolitho had said to his guard, “I wish to go below.”

His brother had called after him, “You are foolish, Richard. And what is worse, you are wrong!”

As he sat in the swaying storeroom Bolitho found plenty of time to relive the bitterness and the sense of defeat.

There was a scraping of metal as the bolts were drawn from the door, and Belsey groaned. “Comin’ to gloat again! God rot their bloody souls!”

But as the lamplight flooded the storeroom and seared their eyes Bolitho could only stare with surprise. Stockdale stood blinking in the doorway, a heavy boarding axe swinging from his hand.

Bolitho struggled to his feet and then caught sight of the sentry sprawled below the swinging lantern, the back of his head smashed in like an eggshell.

Stockdale said humbly, “I am sorry it took me so long, Captain! But I had to win their confidence.” He grinned sheepishly. “Even now I’m not sure I done as you expected.”

Bolitho could hardly speak. He gripped the man’s massive arm and muttered, “You did rightly, Stockdale. Have no fear of that!” To the others he said, “Are you with me?”

Farquhar replied dazedly, “Just tell me what to do, sir!”

“Quick, Stockdale!” Bolitho stepped into the passageway and peered into the darkness beyond the lantern. “Tell me what is happening!”

The ex-prizefighter answered thickly, “They’re getting worried up top, sir. No sign of an attack, an’ the ship is taking the wind badly.” He thought for a moment. “Maybe we could swim for the beach, sir?” He nodded with rare excitement. “Yes, we could do it with luck!”

Bolitho shook his head. “Not yet. They will be watching like hawks. We must not think of ourselves. We must try to save the Phalarope before it is too late!”

Stockdale glanced at the corpse by his feet. “They change the guard in half an hour, sir. There’s not much time!”

“I see.” Bolitho tried to stifle the excitement and urgency in his mind and think more clearly. “We cannot fight the whole crew, but with luck we might still surprise them!”