The captain said, 'Name?' 'Bolitho, sir.' His voice sounded different in the broad cabin. 'Yes.1 The captain half turned as his clerk entered the cabin by another small door. In the lamplight and the angled glow from the stern windows Beves Conway had an alert, intelligent profile, but his eyes were hard and gave nothing away. He was speaking curtly to Scroggs, his tone clipped, matter of fact, about things which Bolitho could only guess at. He glanced to one side and saw himself for the first time in a long, gilt-framed mirror. No wonder the cabin servant had looked worried. Richard Bolitho was tall for his years, tall and slim, with hair so black that it made his tanned features seem pale. In his seagoing coat, one which he had bought eighteen months earlier and had all but grown out of, he looked more like a vagrant than a King's officer. He realized with a start that the captain was speaking to him. 'Well, Mr Midshipman, er, Bolitho, due to unforeseen circumstances it seems I must rely on your skills to assist my clerk until Mr Marrack is recovered from his, er, injury.' He regarded him calmly. 'What duties have you in my command?1 'Lower gundeck, sir, and with Mr Hope's division for sail drill.' 'Neither of those require that you should look like a dandy, Mr, er, Bolitho, but in my ship I need all my officers to set a perfect example, no matter what duty they are performing. As a junior officer you will be ready for anything. In this command you lead, you set an example, and wherever this ship takes you, you will not only represent the Navy, joa will be the Jfeayl' 'I understand, sir.' Bolitho tried again. 'We had been aloft to shorten sail, sir, and…' 'Yes.' The captain gave what might have been a wry smile. 'I gave that order.