Allday pretended not to notice the look on Bolitho's face and took the opportunity to retrieve his sword from a chair and hang it in its place on the bulkhead. It shone dully in the spiralling lanterns, and he said quietly, "It'd not be the same without it now."

But Bolitho did not answer. That sword, his father's and his father's before that was something of a talisman, and a ready topic of lower-deck conversation whenever Bolitho's exploits were being discussed. It was part of him, part of his background and tradition, but at this moment he could think of nothing but what he was leaving behind. Even now the horses would be trotting along the road from Plymouth. Fifty miles to Falmouth where his housekeeper and his steward, Ferguson, who had lost an arm at the Saintes, would be waiting to greet her. But he would not be there. Above the hiss of spray against the windows, the creak of timbers and the over-riding boom of canvas he imagined he could hear her laugh. Imagined perhaps he could feel her touch, the taste of her freshness on his lips.

Oblivious to Allday he opened the front of his shirt and looked at the small locket around his neck. In it was one lock of her hair, a talisman better than any sword.

The door opened and a sodden midshipman said breathlessly, "Mr. Inch's respects, sir, and can he have permission to take in a second reef?"

Bolitho stood up, his body swaying to the steady roll. "I'll come." Then he saw Allday and gave a small smile. "There is little time for dreaming, it seems." He followed the midshipman's envious stare and added, "Or for game pie either!"

Allday watched him go and then covered the plate with the silver lid.

He had never seen him like this before and he was troubled by it. He looked across at the sword as it swung from its hook, seeing again that same blade gleaming in the sunlight as Bolitho had stormed the French battery at Cozar, had charged across the bloodsoaked planking of an enemy ship, had done so many things so many times. And now Bolitho seemed changed, and Allday cursed the mind which had despatched Hyperion to blockade duty and not to a place to do battle.