At any other time Herrick would have felt both irritated and resentful. It might have implied that the captain was too unsure of his third lieutenant to leave him to take a watch alone. But when Herrick had relieved Lieutenant Okes at four o’clock Okes had whispered quickly that Bolitho had been on deck for most of the night.

Herrick frowned. Deep down he had the feeling that Bolitho had acted more by instinct than design. As if he was driven like the ship, by mood rather than inclination. He seemed unable to stand still, as if it took physical force to hold himself in one place for more than minutes at a time.

A figure moved darkly at the quarterdeck rail and he heard Midshipman Neale’s familiar treble in the darkness.

“Able Seaman Betts has just reported, sir.” He stood staring up at Herrick, gauging his mood.

Herrick had to tear his thoughts back to the present with a jerk. Betts, the man who had escaped a flogging or worse only at Bolitho’s intervention, had been ordered to report at three bells for the first part of his punishment. Vibart had made it more than clear what would happen if he failed to execute the orders.

He saw Betts hovering behind the small midshipman and called, “Here, Betts. Look lively!”

The man moved up to the rail and knuckled his forehead. “Sir?”

Herrick gestured upwards towards the invisible topmast. “Up you go then!” He kept the harshness from his tone. He liked Betts, a quiet but competent man, whose sudden flare of anger had surprised him more than he cared to admit. “Get up to the maintop-mast, Betts. You will stand lookout until the first lieutenant orders otherwise.” He felt a touch of pity. One hundred and ten feet above the deck, unsheltered from the cold wind, Betts would be numb within minutes. Herrick had already decided to send Neale up after him with something warm to eat as soon as the galley fire was lit for breakfast.

Betts spat on his hands and replied flatly, “Aye, aye, sir. Seems a fair mornin’?” He could have been remarking on something quite normal and unimportant.

Herrick nodded. “Aye. The wind is dropping and the air is much drier.” It was true. Betts’s instinct had grasped the change as soon as he had emerged from the packed, airless berth deck where eighteen inches per man was the accepted hammock space.

Herrick added quietly, “You were lucky, Betts. You could have been dancing at the gratings by eight bells.”

Betts stood staring at him, unmoved and calm. “I’m not sorry for what ’appened, sir. I’d do it again.”

Herrick felt suddenly annoyed with himself for mentioning the matter. That was his trouble, he thought angrily. He always wanted to know and understand the reason for everything. He could not leave matters alone.

He snapped, “Get aloft! And mind you keep a good lookout. The dawn’ll be awake soon.” He watched the man’s shadow merge with the mainshrouds and followed him with his eye until he was lost in the crisscross of rigging against the stars.