The assembled company were still crowded on the gangways and deckspace, their faces pale when compared with Gossett and Allday.

This should have been the moment for a rousing speech, a time to bring a cheer from these men who were still strangers to him and to each other.

He lifted his voice above the wind. "We will waste no more time. Our orders are to join the blockading squadron off Lorient without delay. We have a well-found ship, one with a fine history and great tradition, and together' we will do our best to seal the enemy in his harbours, or destroy him should he be foolish enough to venture outside!"

He leaned forward, resting his hands on the quarterdeck rail as the ship lifted ponderously beneath him. It was amazing, but some of the men were nudging each other and grinning at his empty words. In a few months they would know the true wretchedness of blockade duty. Riding out all weathers with neither shelter nor fresh food, while the French rested in their harbours and waited in comfort for a gap in the British chain of ships when they might dash out, hit hard and return before any offensive action might be taken against them.

Occasionally a ship would be relieved for reprovisioning or serious repairs and another would take her place, as Hyperion was now doing.

He added briskly, "There is much to accomplish, and I will expect each one of you to do his best at all times to become proficient at whatever task he is given." Here, some of the older men grimaced. They knew it would be gun and sail drill under an officer's pocket-watch until their captain was satisfied. In this sort of weather it would not be comfortable work, especially for the men who had never been afloat before.

Bolitho let his eye stray to the opposite side of the quarter-deck where Inch and the other four lieutenants stood in line by the rail.