Kydd lifted his glass and paused for quiet. "Gentlemen, the King."

The words echoed strongly around the table. The simple ceremony of the loyal toast seemed to Kydd to draw together all the threads of his allegiance to king and country, and with others he followed with a sincere "God bless him."

The solemn courtesies complete, other toasts were made: "Foxhunting and Old Port"; "Our brothers at sea"; and the heartfelt "A willing foe and sea room!" Red faces testified to the warmth and the wine, and when the brandy had circulated Houghton called, "Captain Pringle, might we press you to honour us with your flute?"

"Should I be joined by our excellent doctor, I would be glad to, sir."

The marine was a proficient and sensitive player, and a lively violin accompaniment from the normally acerbic Pybus set the mood of the evening. Adams was persuaded to render a creditable "Sweet Lass of Richmond Hill" in his light tenor, and Renzi delivered a reading from his new copy of Lyrical Ballads:

It is the first mild day of March;

Each minute sweeter than before,

The red-breast sings from the tall larch

That stands beside our door.

There is a blessing in the air

Which seems a sense of joy to yield

To the bare trees, and mountains bare,

And grass in the green field ...

Houghton rose to his feet. He raised his glass and said softly, "To

Tenacious

."

"Tenacious," came the reply, with more than one murmured "Bless her!" There were no ready words to describe the affection that the old 64-gun ship-of-the-line had won in the hearts of her officers, and Kydd felt a lump in his throat. He could see the others were affected, too.