But the Austrians were not happy with His Majesty's Government, nor with the Royal Navy, at present. Late the previous year, General de Vins had lost his army-they'd run like terrorised kittens-at the very sight of French soldiers, losing him the use of Genoa and the Genoese Riviera as a base. And, of course, they'd blamed being run inland and eastward on lack of naval support.

Captain Horatio Nelson's small squadron, now much reduced by wear-and-tear, now blockaded harbours where they had funneled supplies and pay to the Austrians the previous year, plodding off-and-on that coast, which was now French-occupied, and hostile. A valuable duty, aye, Sir John mused most sourly; but not much use in supporting a new Austrian spring offensive.

Hands clasped in the small of his back, he stomped the stern-gallery of his flagship, the 1st Rate HMS Victory, taking a welcome few moments of fresh air from his stuffy great-cabins, away from the mounds of paperwork, away from the warnings and cautions from London, which charged him to coddle the Austrians no matter what, and keep them in the war, and to maintain sea-contact with them so the gold and silver could flow to purchase their allegiance.

He heaved a great round-shouldered sigh and scrubbed at his massy chin in thought, trying to conjure a way in which to remain concentrated for a sea-fight, which he was pretty sure he would win should it come. British Tars were unequaled, and his own ships, even at bad odds, he was certain, could still outsail, outmanoeuvre and outfight the poorly practiced French. He must remain strong, yet fulfill every area that demanded the presence of Royal Navy ships.

"Excuse me, Sir John," his harassed flag-captain interrupted, "but Captain Charlton has come aboard as you bid, and is without."

"Hah!" Sir John harrumphed, with very little evidence of pleasure. But then, "Old Jarvy" had never been very big on Pleasure. "Very good, sir, send him in."