"Lewrie… ah!" Old Jarvy grumped, doffing his large cocked hat as Lewrie did his, his head tilted back a bit to peer (rather dubiously, did Alan imagine?) down his fine-sculpted nose. "Heard some about you, sir. 'Deed I have," he pronounced, most disconcertingly.

That don't sound promisin', Lewrie quailed, not knowing how he might respond. Just how much has he heard? And which bits?

"Your servant, Sir John," he cooed instead, making a "leg."

"Well?" Old Jarvy barked, still holding his hat high over his head though Lewrie had lowered his to his side. "Did you? 'Start your water'? And was that before or after the Santissima Trinidad fired?"

"Oh!" Lewrie brightened instantly, much relieved to hear the chuckle which rose from Sir John, see the puckish grin on his phyz… to receive much the same sort of cheery approbation from the rest, all those senior and august commanders! "I'm certain more'n a few of our people did, Sir John… immediately after. For myself, 'twas a close run thing. I didn't anticipate such a response… certainly not her full attention."

"A fellow who yanks the lion's tail, sir," Admiral Jervis said, with a touch of high-nosed frost, "simply must expect a clawing!" He twinkled, snorted-actually making a jape! Almost but not quite as full of jollity as an affable compatriot and nothing like the flinty, humourless disciplinarian he was reputed to be, who could give anyone a case of the runs by simply glaring at him.

Admiral Jervis clapped his hat back on, stepping closer to take Lewrie's hand and pump away at it quite vigourously for a brief time, as the rest tittered polite appreciation for their commander's jest.

"I'll caution you, Commander Lewrie, about making a career of tomfoolery," Sir John added, pursing his features nigh to an actual admonishment, "but 'twas a splendid gesture nonetheless.