Old Proby had weighed his words before replying.

“It’s the deed which bothers the captain, Mr Quintal. He feels betrayed, that’s what is wrong with him!”

Herrick saw Bolitho touch the scar on his forehead and then rub the tiredness from his eyes. Proby was right, he thought. He feels it more than we realise. Whatever any of us does, he shares it like his own burden.

Before he realised what he was doing, Herrick had crossed the deck to Bolitho’s side. Instantly he regretted his action. He half expected Bolitho to turn and reprimand him, and even that might have been better than the complete silence. He said, “The wind is holding well, sir. The master has prophesied a quick landfall.”

“I think I heard him.” Bolitho seemed to be deep in his own thoughts.

Herrick saw that the captain’s shirt was dark with thrown spray and clung close to his body like another skin. There were deep shadows beneath his eyes, and Herrick could almost feel the inner torment which was keeping Bolitho on deck instead of the privacy of the cabin.

He said, “Would you like me to call your servant, sir? Perhaps a hot drink before you turn in for the night?”

Bolitho twisted round at the rail, his eyes bright in the moonlight. “Spare me this small talk, Mr Herrick! What is it which bothers you?”

Herrick swallowed hard and then blurted out, “I have been speaking with Allday, sir. I know it was wrong, but I feel partly responsible for him.”

Bolitho was watching him closely. “Go on.”

“He is one of my men, sir, and I think there may be more to what happened than we think.” He finished lamely, “I know him better than most. He is not the sort to change.”

Bolitho sighed. “Only the stars never change, Mr Herrick.”

Herrick said stubbornly, “Even so, he may be innocent!”

“And you think this is important?” Bolitho sounded tired. “You believe that the life of one man, a man almost certain to be found guilty, is worth consideration?”

“Well, as a matter of fact, I do, sir.” Herrick felt Bolitho’s eyes fixed on his face in a cold stare. “The authorities will not listen to half a story . . .”

Bolitho shifted with sudden impatience. “We are the authority out here, Mr Herrick! And I will decide what is to be done!”

Herrick looked away. “Yes, sir.”

“As it happens, I entirely agree with you.” Bolitho pushed the lock of hair back from his forehead, ignoring Herrick’s open astonishment. “But I just wanted to hear it from one other person!”

He became suddenly brisk. “I think I will go below now, Mr Herrick, without a hot drink. Tomorrow we will search for fresh water and attend to the matter of fighting a war.” He paused momentarily by the rail. “I will also think about what you have said tonight. It may be important for all of us.”

Without another word he turned on his heel and descended the cabin stairway. Herrick stared after him, his jaw hanging open.