Bolitho studied him gravely. Herrick's stocky figure, his round, homely face and those bright blue eyes were almost as familiar as Allday's. But he seemed different somehow. It was only four months, and yet…

He thought of all that had happened since that visit to the Admiralty. The discussions with men so senior and powerful that he still could not grasp that promotion could mean so much. Whenever he had mentioned his anxiety over the progress being made with his new flagship he had seen that amused look in their eyes.

The admiral who had given him his appointment, Sir George Beauchamp, had put it into words. "You’ll have to forget that sort of thing now, Bolitho. The captain must deal with the running-of a ship. Yours is a more exacting task."

Eventually he had taken passage to Gibraltar in a fast frigate, pausing in the Tagus with despatches for the flagship of the fleet employed on blockade duty. There he had been given an audience with the admiral, the Earl of St. Vincent, so titled because of his great victory eleven months back. The admiral, still affectionately known as "Old Jarvy" by many of his subordinates, but only when he was well out of earshot, had greeted him briskly.

"You’ve got your orders. See you carry " em out. It's been months since we knew what the French were up to. Our spies in the channel ports reported that Bonaparte visited the coast many times to lay plans for invading England. " He had given his dry chuckle. "I think my medicine off Cape St. Vincent taught "em to tread warily where the sea is concerned:

Bonaparte is a land animal. A planner. Unfortunately, we have nobody to match him yet. Not on land, that is."

Looking back it was hard to measure how much the admiral had managed to explain and describe in that brief interview. He had been on active duty with hardly a break, and yet he had been able to sum up the situation in home waters and the Mediterranean better than any Admiralty official.