Inch nodded humbly. "Aye, sir."

Bolitho grinned. "Well, that is something, Mr. Inch!"

Gossett called, "Ready to alter course, sir!"

The headland, and indeed most of the shoreline, had disappeared into the grey murk, but the wind was as steady as ever, whipping the crests from the waves and cascading spray above the weather rail like tropical rain.

"Bring her up to a point, Mr. Gossett. We will wear ship in four hours and run with the wind in our coat-tails!" He saw Gossett nod cheerfully. "We may have to reef before much longer, but I imagine you want to see how she behaves under full canvas?"

He looked at Inch. "I am going to my cabin. I am sure you do not need me for the moment?" He turned and walked quickly towards the poop before he could reply. Inch had got over the first part quite well. It was only fair to give him his head in open water without his captain watching every move and decision. And Gossett would be quick to see if anything really serious was about to

happen.

He saw some of the unemployed seamen watching him as he ducked below the poop and made for his cabin. First impressions were all important and he had to appear quite unconcerned even though he was straining his ears to listen to the creak and whine of shrouds and stays as the ship plunged her way indifferently almost into the teeth of the wind. Faintly he heard Tomlin bellow, "Not that 'and! Yer right 'and, I said! The one you fills yer face with!" A pause. "'Ere, let me show you, you clumsy maggot!" Bolitho half smiled. Poor Tomlin, it was starting already.

A marine sentry snapped at attention outside the stern cabin, his eyes unblinking beneath his shako. Bolitho closed the door and leaned his back against it, thankful to be alone for just a few precious moments.