* * *

Deep below the forecastle deck where Allday sat immersed in his own thoughts was the Phalarope’s cable tier. In harbour it was a spacious, empty place, but now, as the frigate moved listlessly on the calm water, it was packed to the deckhead with the massive anchor cables. Coil upon coil, the great, salt-hardened ropes added to the sour stench of the bilges and the richer smells of tar and hemp. Stout upright pillars on either side of the shelving hull held the cables clear of the timbers to allow easy access to the ship’s fabric at all times. These “carpenter’s walks” as they were named ran the full length of the hull below the water-line to afford inspection and, if necessary, repairs in time of battle. Little wider than a man’s body, they were usually in total darkness.

But now, as the bow wave swished dully against the timbers and furtive rats continued their endless search for food, a small, shaded lantern cast an eerie light against the piled cable and threw a distorted reflection back to the faces of the men squeezed in the narrow passageway.

Onslow held the lantern higher and peered at the waiting men. He only had to count them to be sure. He knew each man’s face and name without need for further examination.

“We must be quick, lads! We’ll be missed if we stay too long!”

Like an echo he heard Pook’s voice. “Just pay heed to wot ’e says!”

Onslow’s teeth gleamed in the darkness. He could feel his legs shaking with wild excitement, like the effect of rum on an empty stomach. “We’re pulling away from the other ships. I think the time has almost come to carry out our plan.”

He heard a dull murmur of agreement and grinned even broader. Just by saying our instead of my acted on these men like the crack of a whip.

“From what Ferguson has told me Bolitho intends to run to the south’rd. The Phalarope’ll be on the end of the patrol line. No chance of meeting any of the others, y’see?”

A voice asked from the darkness. “ ’Ow can we take the ship on our own?” He broke off with a yelp as Pook drove his elbow into his ribs.

Onslow said calmly, “Leave that part to me. I’ll tell you how and when.” He looked at the crouching line of dark figures. All the ones who had come with him from the Cassius, and several more recruited in the Phalarope. It was far more than he had dared to hope.

“We must get rid of the bloody bullocks. Without their red coats athwart the quarterdeck it’ll be easy.”

Pook asked. “Wot about Allday an’ the like?”

“Ah yes.” Onslow smiled crookedly. “Master John Allday.”

Pook added gloomily, “The lads listen to ’im!”

“And if anything happened to Allday we’d get a lot more on our side, eh?” Onslow’s brain was moving ahead of his words. “But it has to be clever. If it looks like our doing we might as well hang ourselves!”