'God help us.' As an afterthought he added, 'Who is the senior amongst you?' Bolitho saw the anxious exchange of glances, the way that the snug contentment had given way to something like panic. He said, 'I think I am, sir. Richard Bolitho.' The lieutenant eyed him suspiciously. 'So be it. March 'em to the sallyport and report to the boat's cox'n. I will be along shortly.' He raised his voice. 'And when I get there, I want every mother's son of you ready to leave, see?' The smallest midshipman said desperately, 'I think I'm going to be sick! ' Somebody laughed, but the lieutenant roared, 'You're going to be sick, sirl Say sir when you address an officer, damn you! ' The landlord's wife watched the untidy cluster of midshipmen hurrying towards the rain. 'Yew'm a bit hard on 'em, Mr Hope, sir.' The lieutenant grinned. 'We all had to go through it, m'dear. Anyway, the captain's difficult enough as it is, what with one thing and t'other. If I'm adrift with the new midshipmen then I'll be in for a broadside! ' Outside on the wet cobbles Bolitho watched some seamen loading the black chests into an assortment of barrows. Burly and tanned, they looked like experienced sailors, and he guessed that the captain was taking no chances by allowing less reliable members of his company ashore in case they deserted. In weeks, even days, he would know these men and many more. He would not fall into the old traps as in his other ship. He knew now that trust was something you had to earn, not a gift which went with the uniform. He nodded to the senior hand. 'We will move off directly.' The man grinned at him. 'Not the first time for you then, sir?' Bolitho fell in step beside Dancer. 'Or the last.' At the sallyport they found the boat's coxswain sheltering behind the wall. Beyond it the Solent heaved and broke to endless ranks of cruising wavecrests, and against the leaden sky the few gulls looked like white spindrift. The coxswain touched his hat.