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companionway, while Quinn made a big display of checking the compass and the notes in the log.
    Cairns said softly, ‘He’ll be fine. Given time.’
    Bolitho sat at the wardroom table while Mackenzie and Logan endeavoured to present the meal as best they could. Boiled meat and gruel. Ship’s biscuit with black treacle, and as much cheese as anyone could face. But there was a generous supply of red wine which had arrived in New York with the last convoy. From the look on Probyn’s face he had made very good use of it.
    He peered across at Bolitho and asked thickly, ‘What was all that din about a sail? Somebody getting a bit nervous, eh?’ He leaned forward to peer at the others. ‘God, the Navy’s changing!’
    Bunce sat at the head of the table and intoned deeply without looking up, ‘It is not His doing, Mr Probyn. He has no time for the Godless.’
    Sparke said unfeelingly, ‘This bloody food is swill. I shall get a new cook at the first chance I can. That rogue should be dancing on a halter instead of poisoning us.’
    The deck tilted steeply, and hands reached out to seize plates and glasses until the ship rolled upright again.
    Bunce took out a watch and looked at it.
    Bolitho asked quietly, ‘The fog, Mr Bunce.
Will
it come?’
    Thorndike, the surgeon, heard him and laughed. He made a braying sound.
    â€˜Really, Erasmus! Fog, when she pitches about in this wind!’
    Bunce ignored him and replied, ‘Tomorrow. We will have to lie to. There is too great a depth to anchor.’ He shook his massive head. ‘Time lost. More knots to recover.’
    He had spoken enough and stood up from the table. As he passed Probyn’s chair he said in his deep voice, ‘We will have time to see who is nervous then, I’m thinking.’
    Probyn snapped his fingers for some wine and exclaimed angrily, ‘He is becoming mad in his old age!’ He tried to laugh, but nothing happened.
    Captain D’Esterre eyed him calmly. ‘At least he seems to have our Lord on his side. What do
you
have, exactly?’
    In the cabin above, Captain Pears sat at his large table, a napkin tucked into his neckcloth. He caught the gust of laughter from the wardroom and said to Cairns, ‘They seem happier at sea, eh?’
    Cairns nodded. ‘So it would appear, sir.’ He watched Pears’ bowed head and waited for his conclusions or ideas.
    Pears said, ‘Alone or in company the schooner is a menace to us. If only we had been given a brig or a sloop to chase off these wolves. As it is . . .’ He shrugged.
    â€˜May I suggest something, sir?’
    Pears cut a small piece of cheese for himself and examined it doubtfully.
    â€˜It is what you came for, surely.’ He smiled. ‘Speak out.’
    Cairns thrust his hands behind him, his eyes very bright.
    â€˜You have heard the master’s views on the chance of fog, sir?’
    Pears nodded. ‘I know these waters well. Fog is common enough, though I would not dare to make such a bold prediction this time.’ He pushed the cheese aside. ‘But if the master says a thing it is usually right.’
    â€˜Well, sir, we will have to lie to until it clears.’
    â€˜I have already taken that into account, damn it.’
    â€˜But so too will our watchdog. Both for his own safety and for fear of losing us. The fog might be an ally to us.’ Hehesitated, sensing the captain’s mood. ‘If we could
find
her and take her by boarding –’ He got no further.
    â€˜In God’s name, Mr Cairns, what are you saying? That I should put boats down, fill them with trained hands and send them off into a damned fog? Hell’s teeth, sir, they would be going to certain death!’
    â€˜There is a chance there may be another vessel in company.’ Cairns spoke with sudden stubbornness. ‘They will display lights. With good care and the use of a boat’s