Bolitho felt dazed. Hood was: still in the West Indies whence he had just returned. He had a brief picture of the same thousands of miles of empty sea, in command of a strange ship, with a crew still seething in discontent.

`So you see, Bolitho, I am still a hard taskmaster!' The admiral shuddered as a squall hit the window. `I am afraid you are nearly one hundred men under strength. I had to remove many of the troublemakers, and replacements are hard to come by. Some I will have to hang, as soon as a court martial can be convened. You have barely enough men to work the ship under way, let alone in action.' He rubbed his chin, his eyes glittering. `I suggest you make sail at once and head for the West Country. I understand that the fishing fleets are mostly in port in Devon and Cornwall. The weather it seems is not to their liking.' His smile broadened. `I see no- objection to your visiting Falmouth, Bolitho. While your officers are ashore pressing some of these fishermen into the King's service, you might well find the time to call upon your father. You will give him my kind regards, I hope.'

Bolitho nodded. `Thank you, sir. I will do that.' All at once he wanted to get away. There was so much to attend to. Stores and cordage to be checked, food and provisions for the long voyage. Above all, there was the Phalarope, waiting for him, ready to judge or condemn him.

The admiral picked up the canvas envelope and weighed it in his hands. `I will not advise you, Bolitho. You are young, but have more than proved yourself. Just remember this. There are bad men and good aboard your ship. Be firm, but not too hard. Do not regard lack of knowledge as insubordination, like your predecessor.' There was a bite to his tone. `If you have difficulty in remembering all this, try and recall what you were like when you came to serve me as midshipman.' He was. no longer smiling. `You can give the ship back her rightful place by returning her pride. But if you fail, even I cannot help you.'