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'Yes,' said Hornblower in reply to Bush's question, but the relief that showed instantly in Bush's expression changed back into concern as he noted the gleam in Hornblower's eyes.

'We must render passing honours, Mr Bush,' said Hornblower. There was something madly stimulating in forcing himself to be coldly formal when internally he was boiling with excitement. That must be what went on inside one of Mr Watt's steam engines when the safety valve did not function.

'Aye aye, sir,' said Bush; the disciplined answer, the only answer when a superior officer spoke.

'Do you remember the procedure, Mr Bush?'

Never in his life had Hornblower rendered honours to a French ship of war; through his whole professional career until now sighting had meant fighting.

'Yes, sir.'

'Then be so good as to give the orders.'

'Aye aye, sir. All hands! All hands! Man the side! Mr Wise! See that the men keep order. Sergeant of marines! Parade your men on the quarter-deck! Smartly now. Drummer on the right. Bos'n's mates! Stand by to pipe on the beat of the drum.' Bush turned to Hornblower. 'We've no music, sir, except the drum and the pipes.'