Something like panic ran through Herrick's mind. Farquhar would never allow his ambitious brain LV be fogged by some stupid memory or dislike. He had kept his eye on what mattered most to him. Which at this particular minute was to impress the commodore. It happened to be Richard Bolitho, a man more dear to Herrick than any other living being. But if it had been Satan himself Farquhar would have been ready.

As if to make the final stab the midshipman of the watch shouted excitedly, "Barge shoving off from the jetty, sir!" Herrick licked his lips. They felt like dry ashes.

"Very well, Mr. Saxby. My compliments to the first lieutenant. He may muster the hands now."

Richard Bolitho walked to the quarter windows of the broad cabin and looked towards the other ships. Despite the importance, of the moment, the solemnity of being received aboard his own flagship for the first time in his life, he could not contain his excitement. It was like wine and laughter all bubbling up inside him, held in check by some last reserve.

He turned and saw Herrick watching him from beside the screen door. Some seamen were carefully arranging chests and boxes which had been swayed up from the barge, and. he could hear his coxswain, Allday, bawling angrily at someone to take care.

"Well, Thomas, that was a fine welcome."

He strode across the deck with its neat covering of black and white chequered canvas and took Herrick's hand. Over- head he could hear the thump of boots as the marine guard departed, the returning familiar sounds of normal routine.

Herrick smiled awkwardly. "Thank you, sir." He gestured at the baggage. "I hope you’ve brought all you need. It seems we may be a while from home."