He returned his attention inboard. If half what he had heard was true, the enemy probably knew better than they did. There were said to be plenty of loose tongues in New York 's civil and military government circles.

Cairns raised his speaking trumpet. 'Get a move on, Mr Tolcher!'

Tolcher, the squat boatswain, raised his cane and bellowed, 'More 'ands to th' capstan! 'Save, lads!'

He glared at the shantyman with his fiddle. 'Play up, you bugger, or I'll'ave you on th' pumps!'

From forward came the cry, 'Anchor's hove short, sir!'

'Hands aloft! Loose tops'ls!' Cairns ' voice, magnified by the trumpet, pursued and drove them like a clarion. 'Loose the heads'ls!'

Released to the wind the canvas erupted aid flapped in wild confusion, while spread along the swaying yards like monkeys the topmen fought to bring it under control until the right moment.

Sparke called, 'Man your braces! Mr Bolitho, take that man's name!'

'Aye, sir!'

Bolitho smiled into the drizzle. It was always the same with Sparke. Take that man's name. There was nobody in particular, but it gave the seamen the idea that Sparke had eyes everywhere.

Again the hoarse voice from the bows, 'Anchor's aweigh, sir!'

Released from the ground, her first anchor already hoisted and catted, Trojan side-stepped heavily across the wind, her sails.spreading and thundering like a bombardment as the men hauled at the braces, their bodies straining back, angled down almost to the deck.

Round and further still, the yards swinging to hold the wind, the sails freed one by one to harden like steel breastplates until the ship was thrusting her shoulder in foam, her lower gunports awash along the lee side.

Bolitho ran from one section to the next, his hat knocked awry, his ears ringing with the squeal of blocks and the boom of canvas, and above all the groaning and vibrating chorus from every stay and shroud.