Bolitho sat down heavily on the stern bench, suddenly tired and irritable. He stared at the waiting report and then called, “Sentry! Pass the word for Mr Herrick!”

The report could go across to Cassius now, he thought angrily. Whatever else happened, he wanted to make sure that his men received recognition and had their efforts properly recorded.

Herrick entered the cabin and stood alertly beside the desk. “Take this envelope over to the flagship.” Bolitho saw the immediate concern on Herrick’s open face and became more irritated. Try as he might he could not keep the dullness from his voice, and knew that in spite of all his efforts his fatigue was wearing him down, so that every word seemed to drag from his lips.

Herrick said carefully, “May I suggest that you take a rest, sir? I think you have been doing too much.”

“Kindly attend to your duties, damn you!” Bolitho looked away, angry with Herrick but more so with himself for the unfairness of his attack.

“Aye, aye, sir.” Herrick seemed unmoved and said, “May I ask if this is the full report about the Andiron, sir?”

Bolitho turned coldly. “Of course it is! Were you afraid I’d not included your efforts in this escapade?”

Herrick eyed him steadily. “I am sorry, sir. It’s just that—” He swallowed hard. “Well, we feel, those of us who took part,” he began to stammer. “You are the one who should take all the credit, sir!”

Bolitho looked at the deck, the blood singing in his ears. “You have a happy knack of making me feel ashamed, Mr Herrick. I would be obliged if you would refrain from doing so in the future!” He looked up sharply, remembering with sudden clarity the sound of Herrick’s voice in the darkness, the touch of his hands on his wound. “But thank you.” He walked slowly to the desk. “The attack on the Andiron was a series of lucky occurrences, Mr Herrick. The end result may seem to some to justify this. But I must admit that I am still dissatisfied. I believe in luck, but I know that no man can depend upon it!”

“Yes, sir.” Herrick watched him closely. “I just wanted you to know how we all feel.” His jaw jutted stubbornly. “Whatever lies in store for us, we’ll feel all the better for your being in command, sir.”

Bolitho ruffled the papers on his desk. “Thank you. Now for God’s sake go to the Cassius, Mr Herrick.” He watched Herrick duck through the door and heard his voice calling for the quarter-boat.

It was odd how easy it was to tell his fears to Herrick. Stranger too that Herrick was able to listen without taking advantage of this confidence.

His eye fell on the punishment book, and again he felt the tired glow of anger. While he had been a prisoner of his own brother the old disease had broken out again. Floggings and more floggings, with one man dying of his agony under the lash. Maybe there would be time to heal the damage, he thought grimly. He must accept Vibart’s sullen explanations, just as he had had to recognise Okes’s report on the attack on Mola Island. He must back up his own officers. And if they were weak and stupid, then he must take the blame for that also.