He added more calmly, ' England is at war with a tyrant. We need every ship and every loyal man to overthrow him. See to it that each one of you does his best. In my part I will do mine.'

He turned on his heel and nodded curtly. 'Carry on, Mr. Quarme. Detail water parties and make sure the purser has plenty of fresh fruit aboard.' He stared across the mist'shrouded bay towards Algeciras. `With Spain our new ally it should not be too difficult.'

The first lieutenant touched his hat. Then he called, 'Three cheers for King George!'

Bolitho walked slowly aft, feeling drained and ice cold. The answering cheers were ready enough, but more from duty than feeling.

He climbed the ladder and walked across the spacious quarterdeck. As he lowered his head beneath the poop Allday said quietly, 'No need to duck here, sir.' He was grinning. 'Plenty of room for you now.'

Bolitho did not even hear him. Ignoring the rigid marine sentry he stepped over the coaming and into his wide stern cabin. His private world. He was still thinking of the ship as Allday closed the door and began to unpack one of his boxes.

Richard Bolitho pushed some of the litter of papers across his desk and sat back to rest his eyes. When he examined his pocket watch he realised with a start that he had been poring over the ship's books and records for almost six hours without respite, his busy mind conscious the whole time of the noises beyond the closed door and across the deck above.

More than once he had almost broken his concentration to go out into the sunlight, if only to satisfy himself that the ship's routine was functioning normally, but each time he had forced himself to sit still and to carry on with his study of the Hyperion's affairs.