Most of the other men were too weary to comment. All day they had pulled the cutter back and forth to the anchored frigate, the first excitement of seeing a friendly port again soon giving way to grumbling complaint.

Packwood was in charge of their party, and although a capable man and considered to be fair in his allocation of work, was plagued by a complete lack of imagination. If he had told the men that the work was essential, not only to the Phalarope’s efficiency, but more important, to the welfare of the crew once she returned to sea, some of the bitterness might have been dulled. As it was, Packwood had been too long in the Navy to seek for unnecessary explanations to anything. Work was work. Orders would be carried out at all times without question.

Pook, Onslow’s constant companion, raised himself on his scrawny legs and peered towards the distant houses. He breathed out slowly. “Mother of God! I kin see women!”

Onslow grimaced. “What did you expect? Bloody clergymen?” He watched the men from beneath lowered lids. “The officers will be doing themselves well enough. You see if I’m not right, lads!” He spat over the side. “But just one of you try an’ lay a little foot on the shore an’ see what happens!” He gestured towards a redcoated marine who was leaning contentedly on his grounded musket. “That bloody bullock’ll place a ball between your eyes!”

John Allday lay across the oars and watched Onslow thoughtfully. Every word the man spoke seemed to be carefully weighted and fashioned before it was uttered. He turned as another seaman named Ritchie spoke up from the bow.

Ritchie was a slow-thinking Devon man, with an equally slow manner of speech. “When we was at Nevis Oi didn’t see yew runnin’ off, Onslow!” He blinked his mild eyes against the glittering water. “Yew had plenty of time to go an’ join your rebel friends!”

Allday watched Onslow, expecting a flash of anger. But the tall seaman merely eyed Ritchie with something like pity. “An’ what good would that do? If I went over to the rebels or to the Frogs, do you think we’d be any better off?” He had their full attention now. “No, lads. We’d be exchanging one master for another. A fresh flag, but make no mistake, the lash feels the same in any navy!”

Ritchie scratched his head. “Oi still don’t see what yew’m gettin’ at!”

Pook sneered, “That’s because you’re stupid, you great ox!”

“Easy, lads.” Onslow dropped his voice. “I meant what I said. Out here or in the Americas a man can live well. A new life, with a chance to make something for himself!” He gave a small smile. “But to start off right a man needs more than hope. He needs money, too!”

Nick Pochin stirred himself and said uneasily, “If the war ends an’ we gets paid off, we can go back to our homes.”

“And who’ll want to remember you there?” Onslow looked down at him coldly. “You’ve been away too long, like all the rest of us. There’ll be nothing for you but begging on the streets!”