While Lestock and his mates had the canvas taken off the ship, Drinkwater swung his glass round the bay. Molly was making sternway and he saw the splash under her bluff, north-country bow where her anchor was let go. But Hecuba still stood inshore while her hands struggled to clew up her forecourse. Unable to manoeuvre under her topsails due to her damaged foremast, her master had been obliged to hold on to the big sail until the last moment, now something had fouled.

'Why don't he back the damned thing,' Drinkwater muttered to himself while beside him Lestock roared 'Aloft and stow!' through the speaking trumpet. The Hellebores eagerly leapt into the rigging to pummel the brig's topsails into the gaskets, anxious to get secured, the galley stove relit and some steaming skillygolee and molasses into their empty, contracted bellies.

Then he saw Hecuba begin her turn into the wind, saw the big course gather itself into folds like a washerwoman tucking up her skirts, the main topsail flatten itself against the top and the splash from her bow where the anchor was let go.

'Convoy's anchored, sir,' he reported to Griffiths.

The commander nodded. 'Looks like your gun had another effect.' Griffiths pointed his glass at the polaccra anchored inshore of them. Drinkwater studied the unfamiliar colours that had been hoisted to her masthead.

'Ragusan ensign, Mr Drinkwater, and I'll warrant you didn't know 'em from the Grand Turk's.'

Drinkwater felt the tension ebbing from him. 'You'd be right, sir.'

Lestock touched his hat to Griffiths. 'She's brought up, sir, and secured.'

'Very well, Mr Lestock, pipe the hands to breakfast after which I want a working party under Mr Rogers ready to assist the re-rigging of Hecuba. Send both your mates over. Oh, and Mr Dalziell can go too, I'd very much like to know if that young man is to be of any service to us.'

'Aye, aye, sir. What about Mr Quilhampton, sir? He is also inexperienced.'