Allday grinned self-consciously. “Aye, Mr Herrick. ’Tis me, right enough!”

Bolitho looked from one to the other. “After Stockdale died, Allday, here, said he wanted to change his mind about leaving the Service.” He smiled sadly. “So if the chance comes we will go back to sea together.”

Bolitho picked up the sword and held it in both hands. Over his shoulder he added quietly, “When that time comes I will want a good first lieutenant, Thomas.” He turned and looked straight into Herrick’s eyes.

Herrick felt the warmth flooding back through his body, sweeping away the doubt and the sense of loss. He raised his goblet. “It is not far to Kent, sir. I’ll be ready when you give me the word!”

Bolitho turned his face away and watched the snow whipping across the windows. For a while longer he looked at the grey sky and scudding clouds, and imagined he could hear the wind whining through shrouds and taut rigging, with the hiss of thrown spray rising above the lee bulwark.

Then he faced his friend and said firmly, “Come, Thomas, there is much to talk about!”

Allday watched them go into the dining room, and then with a quiet smile he placed the sword carefully back in the cupboard.