Half an hour into dinner and Tom was regretting his hasty acceptance of Captain Layton's invitation. His head was pounding something terrible, something he was trying to remedy by drinking vast amounts of the wine which sat invitingly here and there on the table.

The other officers were an amiable set of men- apart from one adolescent that glared at him darkly from the other end of the table, probably a deserter from one of his commissions who had found easy promotion in the comparatively effortless life in a merchantman.

"So, Mr Pullings, you are second lieutenant of the Surprise, am I correct?"

"First lieutenant, sir," said Tom, impulsively swallowing some obscure piece of meat laid out on the table.

Captain Layton smiled, "Then I expect Captain Aubrey will be missing you,"

Tom looked his surprise.

"You know Captain Aubrey, sir?"

Conversation was interrupted, however, as the Captain's steward, an obliging young creature and the complete opposite to Killick, with his gravely whinge and his brilliant cooking.

"Sir," he piped in his innocent high pitch, "Mr Brown says what there's a sail on the larboard bow,"

Tom was surprised at this message; the usual form would have been sent in a midshipman- Mr Brown's respects sir, and he sent me to report a sail on the larboard bow.

But this was the merchant service, and there was no knowing what more he could expect from it.