Had he really been asleep? The realization shocked him into immediate alertness. “What is it, man?” Lieutenant Mountsteven watched him curiously, as if he did not really believe he was sharing a small rough gully with his vice-admiral. “Dawn soon, sir. I’ve roused all hands.” Bolitho sat up and rubbed his eyes. They felt raw and tired, and he noticed for the first time that the wind had almost died. Looking back, it still seemed unreal, an impossible hallucination. He peered over the edge of the ground and saw the vague glint of water, as if he expected to see Achates forcing the entrance, her sails bulging like metal breastplates, burnished gold by the spluttering flares. Achates was only a small sixty-four, but in the eerie glare she had seemingly filled the harbour and had brought wild cheers and not a few tears from Bolitho’s seamen. Around him he heard men gathering up their weapons and recalled the Royal Marine corporal who had been sent by Captain Dewar to report that all his men were ashore and in position.
