An Eye of the Fleet
Teresa.’ He paused to watch the shuffle throughout the assembly. Expectancy, kindled in their faces by the presence of the admiral, now became a restless eagerness. The ragged line wavered.
    ‘You’ll be pleased to know she’s been purchased forЕ’ He tailed off as a buzz that swiftly became a hum broke out.
    ‘Silence there!’ yelled Devaux.
    ‘Е she’s been purchased for 15,000 guineas sterling and you’ll all receive your due according to usage and custom.’ The admiral stepped back.
    Devaux looked at Hope; he was smiling cherubically. Then, sensing the moment was right he called out:
    ‘Three cheers for the AdmiralЕ’
    It was no longer half-hearted. They heard the noise on Cerberus a mile away. As the cheering died down Hope announced to Devaux, ‘Mr Devaux, you may allow wives and sweethearts tomorrow, apparently the admiral’s office announced us a few days agoЕ’
    Captain Hope was having his day. As he ushered the Admiral and his flag lieutenant into the cabin there were more cheers for the captain himself.
    The dinner in Captain Hope’s cabin that evening was, as naval dinners went, unremarkable. But the setting sun laid a path of glittering gold from the horizon to the very stern windows of Cyclops and invested the scene with some of its magic. The excited babble of talk amongst the juniors present and the natural elation due to the unaccustomed wine and natural headiness of the occasion nevertheless lent to the proceedings a degree of memorability.
    Copping had provided a banquet within the limits of his materials. If Kempenfelt was unimpressed by the cookery he did not show it and to the short-rationed midshipmen any meal of more than one course automatically assumed the dignity of haute cuisine.
    Fortunately the Santa Teresa’s loot had yielded a sufficiency of both Oporto and Jerez wines which made up for the indifference of Hope’s claret. Some Havana cigars were also salved which, after the duff and capons had been consumed, filled the air with the aromatic luxury of their blue smoke.
    A bare hour after they had sat down Drinkwater’s body was enjoying the pleasant sensations of a mild drugging. His stomach was distended to unusual proportions and his head just beginning to assume that lucid detachment from his limbs that is the pleasantest but also the briefest stage of drunkenness. As for his forgotten legs, they reclined as he had negligently left them before the increase in his cerebral concentration had drawn all the energy from them. He heard without fully comprehending the senior officers discussing Kempenfelt’s new code of signals. The admiral’s explanation of Rodney’s action off Martinique passed through his aural organs and left his brain to seize on and amplify certain graphic phrases that his overwrought imagination dwelt on.
    Hope, Price, Keene, Devaux and Blackmore listened to the rear-admiral with professional deference, but to Drinkwater the splendid ligure of Kempenfelt poured forth the very stuff of dreams.
    After the loyal toast Kempenfelt proposed one to the Cyclops’s gallantry in the night action off Cadiz. In turn Hope toasted an admiral ‘without whose ratification their fortunes would have remained uncertain’. The admiral prodded his flag lieutenant and that worthy rose unsteadily and read a prepared statement toasting Lieutenant John Devaux and Midshipman Nathaniel Drinkwater for their bold action in boarding the prize and earning a special place in Hope’s report. Devaux rose and bowed to the flag lieutenant and the admiral. Recalling that the midshipman had the post of honour in receiving the Spaniard’s surrender he called upon the young gentleman to reply.
    Drinkwater was barely aware of what was required of him, but he was suddenly aware of Morris staring at him from the far side of the table with an evil grin upon his face. The face seemed to grow larger, terrifying in its size, oppressive with malice. Conversation died as all turned to stare

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