"Hoy, Jester.¹" came a high-pitched, slightly nasal shout from a runtish little dandy by Captains starboard rails. The dandy's hands were cupped round his mouth. "Follow me into clear air for signals!"

"Hoy… sir!" Lewrie replied, deliberately delaying his "sir." "And what…?"

What the bloody Hell you think yer playin' at? was Lewrie's real question. He amended it though, regretting the necessity.

"Where are you going… sir?" he bellowed instead.

"No time to explain!" Nelson hallooed back, sounding infinitely pleased with himself, damn' near laughing with joy in point o' fact! "Before they join both bodies astern of us in the Nor'east! Follow me, Jester! We're off to glorrryyy!"

"Cack-handed, brainless bloody… cavalry charge… pip-squeak!" Lewrie grumbled in a harsh mutter, his face stretched into a toadying rictus of a smile. "Death or glory, mine arse! Mine arse on a bloody… bandbox.¹"

Then the Captain, with her longer waterline and taller, wider sails aloft, was surging past, beginning to turn even more Westward as wind filled her rigging and her greater speed returned.

"Do we follow him, sir?" Lieutenant Knolles wondered, still aghast.

"Christ, I don't… Christ! He's…!"

Captain was now aiming to pass between the last two ships of the line. Diadem and Excellent, to shorten the distance she'd have to sail to engage the entire Spanish Fleet!

"He's gone lunatick!" Lewrie breathed in awe.

But he's right… damn 'im! Lewrie had to admit to himself. Do we hope Collingwood's on a run o' luck today and doesn't collide!

"Have a prayer…" Sailing Master Mr. Buchanon moaned, crossing his thick fingers for luck as Captain Collingwood's Excellent seemed to shy, dithering whether to shorten sail, back the tops'ls to brake… or haul her wind and leave the line too.