Herrick digested this information slowly. The excitement and frantic preparations at Antigua had left him in little doubt of an impending battle, and he knew that even now most of those proud ships he had watched with an undiminished fascination would have weighed and set sail to complete Rodney’s plan to seek out and confront the Comte de Grasse.

Bolitho continued absently, “There is a chain of ships up and down the Caribbean. One good sighting and the chase will be on.” But there was no excitement in his voice. “Unfortunately, Martinique is another hundred miles to the south of our patrol area, Mr Herrick. De Grasse will be there with the bulk of his ships. He will bide his time and then make a dash for Jamaica.” He turned swiftly and stared at Herrick’s frowning face. “And when Rodney’s frigates report that the French have sailed, the fleet will attack him!” He shrugged, the gesture both angry and despairing. “And we shall still be on our station, as useless as a signpost in a desert!”

“But the French may come this way, sir.” Herrick felt Bolitho’s bitterness changing his own eagerness to gloom. As he spoke he realised the reason for Bolitho’s earlier scorn of the elderly Cassius. It was obvious that Rodney was using Admiral Napier’s small squadron for the least important part of his overall plan.

“And pigs may lay eggs, Mr Herrick!” said Bolitho evenly. “But not in our day!”

“I see, sir.” Herrick was at a loss for words.

Bolitho studied him gravely and then touched his arm. “Cheer up, Mr Herrick. I am bad company this morning.” He winced and fingered his side. “I am thankful that ball missed anything vital. But I could well do without its reminder.”

Herrick watched him thoughtfully. “You should take more rest, sir.”

“I find it hard even to sit down, Mr Herrick.” Bolitho shaded his eyes to watch the set of the sails. “There is so much happening. History is being made all around us!” He suddenly began to pace, so that Herrick had to fall in step to keep up with him. “De Grasse will come out, I’m sure of it!” He was speaking quickly in time with his steps. “You saw that freak gale which gave you your chance to rake the Andiron? Well, it was rare indeed for this time of year. But later,” he smiled grimly at some hidden memory, “later in the year the hurricanes hit the West Indies in profusion. From August to September they follow one another like messengers from hell itself!” He shook his head firmly. “No, Mr Herrick, de Grasse will come out soon. He has much to accomplish before that time.”

Herrick said, “But which way will he go?”

“Maybe through the Martinique Passage. But either way he will head straight for the central Caribbean. There are a thousand miles between him and Jamaica. You could lose a whole fleet in such an area. If we fail to make contact when he sails we will never catch him again until it is too late!”