A man who noticed details, Briggs attached importance to Winchester’s action when the man had learned that he intended taking Sarah and Sophia on the voyage to Genoa. By noon the following day, a second boat had arrived to supplement the longboat already aboard.

‘Hardly necessary on a ship as sound as this,’ Winchester had said. ‘Just regarded it as a sensible precaution.’

It had shown a consideration far beyond that which Briggs would have expected most owners to show, even though the man must have known from the care he was taking with the selection of the crew that Briggs was fully aware of the added responsibility of being accompanied by all but one of his family.

As if in reminder, Sophia’s close-curled golden head jerked over the lip of the companion-way she was noisily insisting upon clambering up herself, without the assistance of the cook-steward who followed.

Sarah went immediately to the child, looking beyond her into the galley area.

‘Sorry you were bothered, Mr Head,’ she apologised.

‘No bother, ma’am,’ said the man.

Sarah returned, the baby cupped in the crook of her arm. The child leaned away from its mother, reaching for the rail from which she could watch the activity on the quayside below.

‘Before this voyage is over, there’s a risk of her becoming spoiled by the crew,’ said Sarah. ‘They all seem to love her.’

‘Pity Arthur can’t come as well,’ said Briggs.

‘At seven, his need is for schooling,’ replied Sarah immediately.

‘I’ll still miss him.’

‘No more than I. But were you allowed to sacrifice lessons to sail with your father?’

‘No.’

‘Then neither will Arthur be permitted.’

‘He’ll not be permitted much,’ predicted Briggs. During the voyage, their son was to live with his grandmother; Briggs knew the boy would receive the same strict discipline he and his brothers had been given.