From the stairway Bolitho heard Allday's discreet cough. At least he would be with him. His coxswain, the man who next to his old friend Herrick probably knew him better than anyone.

He said quickly, "Now you will take care, Cheney?" He squeezed her hands tightly. "When you get back to Falmouth there will be plenty of friends if you need anything."

She nodded, then reached out and touched his whitelapelled coat and rested her fingers on his sword hilt. "I will be waiting for you, my dear Richard." She dropped her eyes. "And if you are at sea when our child is born you will still be with me."

Allday's stocky figure rounded the side of the door. "The barge is waiting, Captain. I've stowed all the gear as ma'am ordered." He looked at her admiringly. "And never fret, ma'am, I'll take good care of him."

She gripped Bolitho's arm fiercely and whispered, "See that you do. And pray God will keep both of you safe!"

Bolitho prised her fingers away and kissed her gently. He felt wretched and wished he had words to make the parting easier. At the same time he knew that there were no such words, nor ever had been.

He picked up his gold-laced hat and tugged it down across his forehead. Then he held her in his gaze for a few more seconds, feeling their pain, understanding their loss, and then without another word turned and strode to the stairs.

The landlord bowed as he crossed to the main doors, his round face solemn as he intoned, "Good luck, Cap'n! Kill a few o' they Frogs for us'n!"

Bolitho nodded curtly and allowed Allday to wrap the thick boat-cloak around his shoulders. The landlord's words were meaningless, he thought. He probably said exactly the same to the endless procession of captains and sea officers who stayed briefly beneath his roof before returning to their ships, some for the last time.