He pulled up a chair for Bolitho. 'Your health, Captain.' He added, 'I suppose you know why I asked for you to be given this command?'

Bolitho cleared his throat. 'I assumed, sir, that as Captain Stewart was entering politics that you required another for…'

Winslade gave a wry smile. 'Please, Bolitho. Modesty at the expense of sincerity is just so much top-hamper. I trust you will bear that in mind?'

He sipped at his claret and continued in the same dry voice, 'For this particular commission I have to be sure of Undine's captain. You will be on the other side of the globe. I have to know what you are thinking so that I can act on such despatches as I might receive in due course.'

Bolitho tried to relax. 'Thank you.' He smiled awkwardly. 'I mean, for your trust, sir.'

'Quite so.' Winslade reached for the decanter. 'I know your background, your record, especially in the recent war with France and her Allies. Your behaviour when you were on the American station reads favourably. A full scale war and a bloody rebellion inAmerica must have been a good schoolroom for so young a commander. But that war is done with. It is up to us,' he smiled slightly, 'some of us, to ensure that we are never forced into such a helpless stalemate again.'

Bolitho exclaimed, 'We did not lose the war, sir.'

'We did not win it either. That is more to the point.'

Bolitho thought suddenly of the last battle. The screams and yells on every side, the crash of gunfire and falling spars. So many had died that day. So many familiar faces just swept away. Others had been left, like the two ragged soldiers, to fend as best they could.

He said quietly, 'We did our best, sir.'

The admiral was watching him thoughtfully. 'I agree. You may not have won a war, but you did win a respite of sorts. A time to draw breath and face facts.'

'You think the peace will not last, sir?'