Herrick said, “You get away with murder, Allday. One day you’ll overstep the mark, my lad!” He looked at Bolitho. “All the same, he has a point. You could shift flag to Nicator, and I could take command until-”

Bolitho eyed him impassively. “Old friend, it is no use. For either of us. Today you assume the appointment of commodore and will hoist your broad-pendant accordingly. You will eventually have to select your own flag-captain and attend to the appointment of a new one for Indomitable.”

He tried to parry the thought aside. Another memory. Indomitable had been in the thick of it at Copenhagen, and it was not until after the order to cease fire that Bolitho had learned that her captain, Charles Keverne, had fallen in the fighting. Keverne had been Bolitho’s first lieutenant when he had been a flag-captain like Herrick. Links in a chain. As each one broke, the chain got shorter and tighter.

Bolitho continued sharply, “And I cannot moon about here like a sixth lieutenant. The decisions are not ours.”

Feet clattered in the passageway, and he knew that, like himself, Herrick was very conscious of these precious moments. Soon there would be the busy comings and goings of officers for orders, senior officials from Plymouth to be flattered and coaxed into greater efforts to finish the repairs. Yovell, his clerk, would have more letters to copy and be signed, Ozzard would need to be told what to pack, what to leave aboard the Benbow until… he frowned. Until when?

Herrick turned quickly as the sentry shouted the arrival of the first lieutenant.

“I am needed, sir.” He sounded wretched.

Bolitho gripped his hand. “I am sorry I’ll not be here when your broad-pendant breaks. But if I have to go, I’d like to go with haste.”

Wolfe appeared in the doorway. “Beg pardon, sir, but there’s a visitor coming aboard.” He was looking at Bolitho who felt his heart give a great leap. It fell just as quickly as Wolfe said flatly, “Your flag-lieutenant is here, sir.”