He stood outside in the passageway, his hands shaking with suppressed anger and resentment. By the time he had reached the entry port his face was again an impassive mask, but he hardly trusted himself to reply to the quiet words of the Cassius’s captain as the latter saw him over the side.

The older man said softly, “Watch your step, Bolitho! Sir Robert lost his son aboard the Andiron. He will never forgive you for letting her get away, whatever the reason, so you must try and ignore his words, if not his warning!”

Bolitho touched his hat to the guard. “I have had a lot of warnings of late, sir. But in an emergency they are rarely of any use!”

The flagship’s captain watched Bolitho step into the gig and move clear of the Cassius’s long shadow. In spite of his youth, Bolitho looked as if he might make trouble for others as well as himself, he thought grimly.

* * *

“Deck there! The cap’n’s returnin’!”

Herrick moved out of the shade of the mizzen mast and hurried towards the entry port. He brushed some crumbs from his neckcloth and hastily tugged his crossbelt into position. He had always been able to tolerate the dull and badly prepared food aboard ship in the past, but with the Phalarope riding at her anchor and the ample provisions of English Harbour lying within cannon shot, it had been all that he could do to swallow his lunch. He squinted across the glittering water, his keen eyes immediately picking out the returning gig, its small crew clean and bright in their check shirts, the oars rising and falling like gulls’ wings. Herrick stiffened as Vibart joined him by the rail.

The first lieutenant said, “Well, now we shall see!”

“I’ll wager the admiral was delighted to see our captain.” Herrick darted a hasty glance to make sure that the side party was properly fallen in. “It will do a power of good for our people.”

Vibart shrugged. “What do admirals know about anything?” He seemed unwilling to talk and unable to drag his eyes from the approaching gig.

Herrick could see Bolitho’s square shoulders in the sternsheets, the glitter of sunlight on his gold lace.

A master’s mate said suddenly, “Two water lighters shovin’ off from the shore, sir. Deep laden by the looks of ’em!”

Herrick glanced in the direction of the man’s arm and saw the two ugly craft moving clear of the land. They crawled ponderously towards the frigate, their great sweeps making heavy work of the journey.

Herrick muttered, “I thought we would wait until we warped through into the harbour?”

Vibart slammed his hands together. “By God, I knew this would happen! I just knew it!” He moved his heavy body violently and pointed towards the blue sea. “That’s for us, Mr Herrick. No cream for the Phalarope, either now or ever!” He added angrily, “Not until the ship is used as she was meant to be used!”