“I shall return to Styx directly.” As Browne hurried away Bolitho added slowly, “Phalarope was a newer ship when I took command, but a far less happy one than she is today. You may think she is too old for the kind of work we have to do. You may also believe she is not good enough for an officer of your skill and experience.” He picked up his hat and walked to the door. “I cannot speak for the former, but I shall certainly form my own judgement on the latter. As far as I am concerned, you are one of my captains.” He looked at him levelly. “The past is buried.”

Every inch of the surrounding cabin seemed to throw the last words back in his face. But he had to trust Emes, had to make him return that trust.

Emes said thickly, “Thank you for that, sir.”

“Before we join the others, Captain Emes. If you were faced tomorrow with the same sort of situation as the one which led to a court martial, how would you act?”

Emes shrugged. “I have asked myself a thousand times, sir. In truth, I am not sure.”

Bolitho touched his arm, sensing his rigidity and wariness outwardly protected by the bright epaulettes.

He smiled. “Had you said otherwise, I think I would have requested a replacement for your command by the next brig!”

Later, as the two frigates tacked closer together, and the far off brig spread more sail to beat up to them, Bolitho stood by the quarterdeck rail and looked along the length of the upper deck.

So much had happened and had nearly ended here. He heard Emes rapping out orders in his same crisp tones. A difficult man with a difficult choice if ever he had to make it again.

Allday said suddenly, “Well, sir, what d’you think?”

Bolitho smiled at him. “I’m glad she’s come back, Allday. There are too few veterans here today.”