He could see Lieutenant Okes inspecting the starboard battery of twelve-pounders with Brock, the gunner, and wondered, not for the first time, what was going on behind his strained features. Ever since the raid on Mola Island, Okes had been a changed man. And the admiral’s casual comments across the dinner table had made him withdraw even more into himself.

As for Farquhar, it was quite impossible to tell what he was thinking. Herrick was not sure if he envied the midshipman’s aloof reserve or admired him for it. It was strange how Farquhar’s manner had always made him feel on the defensive. Perhaps it was because of his own humble beginnings, he decided. Even here, cooped up in a small frigate, Farquhar retained his distance and individuality.

Herrick tried to imagine what he would have felt if, as Rennie had suggested, Okes had retreated from the raid without care or interest, and had left him to die. He pictured himself reacting as Farquhar had done, but instantly in his heart he knew he was deceiving himself. More than likely it would have ended in an open conflict, with a court martial to round it off.

The helmsman coughed warningly, and Herrick turned quickly as Bolitho came up the cabin hatch. He touched his hat and waited as Bolitho walked first to the compass and then stood looking up at the masthead pendant. Then he relaxed slightly as Bolitho crossed to his side and looked down at the busy seamen on deck.

“Another fifty miles to our patrolling station, Mr Herrick. At this speed we will need another day!” There was impatience in his tone, and a touch of irritation which Herrick was now able to recognise immediately.

Herrick said, “But still it is comforting to see the Cassius abeam, sir. If de Grasse ventures out this way we will not be alone!”

Bolitho stared at the distant gleam of sails, but there was no response to Herrick’s forced cheerfulness. “Ah yes, the flagship.” He gave a bitter smile. “Forty years old, and so much weed on her bottom that she crawls even in a strong gale!”

Herrick looked quickly at the Cassius. Up until this moment size and seniority had represented safety and a ready shield. He replied, “I did not know, sir.”

“She was a Dutch prize, Mr Herrick. Look at the rake of her beakhead!” Then as if realising that he was speaking from memory of things which were of no importance he added harshly, “My God, this crawling makes me sick!”

Herrick tried another tack. “Our orders, sir. May I ask what is expected of us?”

He immediately regretted his impulse and checked himself as Bolitho turned his head away to watch a slowly circling gull. But from the set of the captain’s shoulders and the way his hands were locked on the rail he knew that he had struck on something uppermost in Bolitho’s mind.

But Bolitho’s voice was calm as he answered, “We will take up our station fifty miles to the west’rd of Guadeloupe and keep contact with our”—he waved his hand towards the open sea—“with our squadron!”