Cairns was tall, lean and very self-contained. If he too was pining over the next step in his career, a command of his own perhaps, he never showed it. He rarely smiled, but nevertheless was a man of great charm. Bolitho both liked and respected him, and often wondered what he thought of the captain.

Cairns paused, biting his lower lip, as he peered up at the towering criss-cross of shrouds and running rigging. Thinly coated with clinging snow, the yards looked like the branches of gaunt pines.

He said, 'The captain will be coming off soon. I'll be on call, so keep a weather-eye open.'

Bolitho nodded, gauging the moment. Cairns was twenty-eight, while he was not yet twenty-one. But the span between first and fourth lieutenant was still the greater.

He asked casually, `Any news of our captain's mission ashore, sir?'

Cairns seemed absorbed. 'Get those topmen down, Dick. They'll be too frozen to turn-to if the weather breaks. Pass the

word for the cook to break out some hot soup.' He grimaced. 'That should please the miserly bugger.' He looked at Bolitho, ' Mission?,

'Well, I thought we might be getting orders.' He shrugged. 'Or something.'

'He has been with the commander-in-chief certainly. But I doubt we'll hear anything stronger than the need for vigilance and an eye to duty!'

'I see.' Bolitho looked away, fie was never sure when Cairns was being completely serious.

Cairns tugged his coat around his throat. 'Carry on, Mr Bolitho.'

They touched their hats to each other, the informality laid aside for the moment.

Bolitho called, 'Midshipman of the watch!' He saw one of the drooping figures break away from the shelter of the hammock nettings and bound towards him.

‘Sir!’

It was Couzens, thirteen years old, and one of the new members of the ship's company, having been sent out from England aboard a transport. He was round-faced, constantly shivering, but made up for his ignorance with a willingness which neither his superiors nor the ship could break.