‘Just come for this gear, sir.’ The seaman gathered up the plates and the wine jug, which was empty, although neither of them could recall drinking the contents.

He half turned as the midshipman outside the door answered someone who was passing. Friends, or a matter of duty, it was not clear. But it was like a signal.

He looked quickly at Dancer, then leaned over toward Bolitho.

‘I served with Cap’n James Bolitho, sir. In the old Dunbar, it was.’ He darted another glance at the door, but the voices were continuing as before. He added quietly, ‘’E were good to me. I said I’d never forget…’

Bolitho waited, afraid to interrupt. This man had served under his father. The Dunbar had been James Bolitho’s first command. Well before his own time, but as familiar to him as the family portraits. The seaman was not going to ask any favours. He wanted to repay one. And he was afraid, even now.

‘My father, yes.’ He knew Dancer was listening, but keeping his distance, possibly with disapproval.

‘Cap’n Greville.’ He leaned closer, and Bolitho could smell the heavy rum. ‘’E commands the Odin.’ He reached out as if to touch his arm, but withdrew just as quickly, perhaps regretting what he had begun.

The young midshipman was calling, ‘Tomorrow at noon, John. I’ll not forget!’

Bolitho said quietly, ‘Tell me. You can rest easy.’

The ship named Odin was a seventy-four like Gorgon, and in the same squadron, and that was all he knew, except that it was important to this seaman who had once served his father.

The plates and the jug clashed together and the man blurted out, ‘Greville’s bad, right the way through.’ He nodded to emphasise it. ‘Right through!’

The door swung slightly and the young voice rapped, ‘Come along, Webber, don’t take all day!’