But when he fell exhausted and gasping behind the door, there was nothing but silence.

The deep, empty silence of a tomb.

* * *

Lieutenant Herrick rested his shoulder against an empty hammock netting and stared moodily along the frigate’s deserted decks. An hour of the middle watch had passed, and in the bright moonlight the sails and rigging gave off an eerie glow, like those of some phantom vessel.

Try as he might, he could not put the thought of Allday and the murdered purser from his mind. He should have been able to tell himself that it was over and done with. Just one more item in the log to be talked over for a time and then forgotten. Evans was dead, and his killer was penned below in irons. That at least should be some small satisfaction to everybody. An undetected murderer, at large to terrorise the lower deck or to strike again, would have been far more to worry about.

He tried to picture Allday standing over that hideous corpse, crazed enough to rip at the man’s body until it was hardly human, yet calmly able to steal a pair of pistols and secrete them in his own quarters. It did not make any sense at all, but Herrick knew that had it been anyone else but Allday he would never have questioned such evidence.

Just before coming on watch Herrick had made his way below to the darkened cells, and after sending the marine sentry to the top of the ladder, had opened the door and held a lantern inside.

Allday had crouched against the opposite side, his hands shading his eyes from the light, his feet skidding in his own filth. Any disgust or anger Herrick may have felt faded in that instant. He had expected loud denials of guilt, or dumb insolence. Instead there was only a pathetic attempt at pride.

He had asked quietly, “Have you anything more to tell me, Allday? I have not forgotten that you saved my life on the cliff. Perhaps if you tell me the full circumstances I will be able to do something to attract clemency on your behalf?”

Allday had made as if to brush his long hair from his eyes, and then looked down at the heavy manacles. In a barely controlled voice he had replied, “I did not do it, Mr Herrick. I cannot find a defence for something I did not do!”

“I see.” In the silence Herrick had heard the scampering rats, the strange, unknown creaks of a ship at sea. “If you change your mind, I . . .”

Allday had tried to step towards him and had fallen forward on Herrick’s arm. For a few seconds Herrick had felt the touch of his bare skin, damp with fear, had smelt his despair, like the odour of death.

Allday had said thickly, “You don’t believe me either! So what’s the point?” His voice had gained some small inner strength. “Just leave me alone! For God’s sake leave me alone!”