"Boat ahoy?" The customary challenge floated down the ship's side.

Allday cupped his hand. "Hyperion!"

As the oars were tossed and the bowman hooked on to the chains, Bolitho slipped out of his cloak, and clutching his sword to his hip jumped quickly for the entry port. And he was not even breathless. He found time to marvel at what good food and regular exercise ashore could do for one so long cramped and adjusted to shipboard life.

As his head came above the coaming the pipes broke into a shrill twitter, and he saw the sharp jerk of muskets as the marine guard came to the present.

Inch was there, bobbing anxiously, his uniform soaked with rain so that Bolitho guessed he had not left the quarter-deck since first light.

The din ceased and Inch said, "Welcome aboard, sir."

Bolitho smiled. "Thank you, Mr. Inch." He looked around at the watching men. "You have been busy."

Inch was peering at the barge and was about to call to its crew when Bolitho said quietly, "No, Mr. Inch, that is no longer your work." He saw Inch staring at him. "Leave it to your subordinates. If you trust them they will-come to

trust you."

He heard heavy footsteps on the damp planking and turned to see Gossett, the master, plodding to meet him. Thank God he at least had been aboard the ship for several years.

Gossett was huge and bulky like a barrel, with a pair of the brightest eyes Bolitho had ever seen, although they were usually half hidden in his seamed and battered face.

"No complaints, Mr. Gossett?"

The master shook his head. "None, sir. I always said the old lady'd fly along once she got rid of 'er weed." He rubbed his massive red hands. "An' so she will if I 'ave any say."