Alexander Kent - COLOURS ALOFT!

He stopped his drifting thoughts and said, "Union Flag at the fore, if you please."

He heard the squeal of halliards as his red command flag was hauled down and replaced seconds later by the biggest Jack in the ship. It was still hidden in darkness, but when the sun came up Jobert would see it. He felt strangely elated, with no sense of anxiety at all.

Paget's shadow turned from the quarterdeck rail. "Colours aloft, Sir Richard!"

Bolitho nodded. Paget sounded much as he felt. Committed, a chance to end the waiting.

"Deck there! Sail on the lee bow!"

Bolitho said, "Well done, Val. We are in a perfect position!"

A gun echoed across the water, just the one, and Bolitho thought he saw the flash for just a split-second.

Another lookout yelled, "Convoy ahead!"

"Make a general signal." Bolitho moved restlessly across the deck, his fingers to his chin.

The lookout's cry made him look up again. "Two sail of the line, weather bow!"

Bolitho said, "So there we have it, Val. Two of the devils." He glanced at Stayt, "Make to the squadron, Enemy in sight!'

When he looked across the lee side again he saw the horizon, salmon-pink, like an unending bridge.

Above the braced yards of the foremast the flag flicked out, huge and bright, and completely isolated from the ship, which remained in shadow for a few more moments.

"General chase, sir?" That was Stayt.

Bolitho opened his mouth and then shut it again. Two ships of the line. It was not the numbers, but the bearing. It did not fit the pattern. Again he felt the touch of warning. "No. Signal the squadron to maintain station." He did not turn as more gunfire cracked over the array of white horses.

Some of the Royal Marines in the foretop were staring up at the flag above them and cheering, their voices wild above the press of wind and canvas.

Bolitho loosened his sword in its scabbard without even noticing what he had done. Into battle. All the resentment and suffering would be forgotten. It was their way.

Another gun banged out but from the squadron astern.

Keen exclaimed, "Hell's teeth, who is doing that?"

Stayt called, "Icarus, sir."

Stayt clambered into the shrouds as the first light touched the masts and yards of the two ships which followed in their wake.

"From Icarus, sir. Enemy in sight to the nor'-east." Keen stared. "I don't believe it!"

Bolitho walked to the rail and grasped it firmly. It felt cold and damp. Not for long.

"Inform Barracouta and Rapid." He watched the breathless signals party hoisting more signals and then walked to the shrouds where Stayt hung with one arm bent over a ratline while he levelled his telescope.

"Three sail of the line, sir." His lips moved as he read the flags. "And two other vessels."

Bolitho found that he could accept it, even though he could see his squadron caught in the prongs of the converging ships, like the neck of a poacher's bag.

The two ships originally sighted must have arrived by sheer coincidence or had been sent from hiding by another commander. But Jobert was here, and the balance had tilted completely. Five to three, and one of them would be Jobert's powerful three-decker. The two lesser vessels, as yet unidentified, must be the two frigates. The odds were formidable and his choice nonexistent. He watched the sun's rim as it lifted above the sea and painted the sails of friends and enemies alike in pale gold.

Bolitho took a glass and rested it on the hammock nettings, waiting for Argonaute to dip her flank into a trough. He saw the overlapping cluster of the convoy, and felt his heart tighten as he recognized Benbow's familiar hull and raked masts, her ports already open, her guns still in black shadow.

A ripple of flashes spat from the two Frenchmen, and he watched thin waterspouts leap amongst the waves and then be shredded by the keen wind.

Jobert's squadron must have sailed down the other coastline of Sardinia, making all speed while he had dealt with Helicon and her wounded. Now like tracks on a chart they were all met.

Jobert's ships on the larboard quarter and not yet visible from the quarterdeck. The other two converging to starboard, firing towards Benbow as they advanced. Chain-shot and langridge to dismast or at least cripple her. Jobert would finish it. More gunfire crashed out, and Bolitho shifted the glass to stare at a small frigate which had appeared around the two seventy-fours. She must be Herrick's other escort, perhaps the one which had challenged the enemy and so foiled their surprise attack. She was out of control, and almost totally dismasted. She must have attempted to harry the enemy's rear, like a terrier going for a bear, but had drawn too near to their stern-chasers.

A marine was shouting, "There be another, lads!"

Bolitho saw a second set of sails filling and shortening as a brig appeared close to the crippled frigate.

It was impossible. The one thing which unnerved him. She was Adam's brig, Firefly, her tiny four-pounders spitting defiantly at the enemy but unable to draw off their advance.

Benbow was changing tack, the sunlight laying bare her ranks of black muzzles as she turned towards the enemy. Bolitho saw the double line of guns shoot out their vivid orange tongues, the smoke billowing inboard as if Herrick's ship had taken fire.

Bolitho said harshly, "Prepare to engage Jobert's squadron."

Herrick would have to defend himself; the treasure-ships could wait.

Keen cupped his hands. "Stand by, Mr Paget! Wear ship, and lay her on the larboard tack!" He hurried to the compass as his men flung themselves on the braces and halliards.

"We will steer nor'-east, Mr Fallowfield!" He was round again even as the first signal broke from the yards. "General, Form line of battle!'

The deck tilted to the thrust of rudder and braced yards, and Bolitho watched as first one, then the other of Jobert's ships appeared to glide into view.

"Steady she goes, sir! Nor'-east!"

We have the wind-gage, Bolitho thought, but not for long. It would be every ship for herself.

More crashes came from the convoy but Bolitho ignored them. He caught a glimpse of Despatch as she floundered round to follow her flagship, resetting her topgallants and even her main course to keep on station. Icarus was hidden astern of her, but every captain knew the odds, and there were the two frigates waiting to pounce if one of the bigger ships became disabled.

He said, "Signal Barracouta to engage the enemy."

Keen looked at him, a muscle in his throat jerking as a full broadside vibrated against the hull like a peal of distant thunder.

Bolitho met his glance. "Lapish must do his best."

It might baffle the enemy when they saw a two-decker suddenly clap on more sail and dash into the fray. If Lapish used that surprise he might bring down some spars unless… Bolitho closed his mind to the appalling risks he was telling Lapish to take.

He heard Allday whispering fiercely to Bankart, and saw the youth shake his head, his stubborn determination somehow pathetic as the distant guns roared out once again. Bankart stood his ground. Whatever it was costing him, he was more terrified of showing fear.

Bolitho raised his telescope and trained it through the black rigging and for a few moments saw familiar faces leap into view before he found the enemy. There she was, her leaping leopard savage and realistic in the strengthening sunshine, the rear-admiral's flag streaming out from her mizzen.

Keen crossed to join him, his fingers drumming a silent beat on his sword hilt.

Bolitho said, "We must stop her, Val." He felt him watching him. "Jobert will sacrifice every ship and man he has just to snatch the gold with us helpless to stop him."

Keen nodded, his mind still reeling from the change of events.