Something in the Gunnery Officer's voice held Vallery.
He turned back, impatiently.
"I'm not concerned with excusing myself, sir.
There's no excuse." The eyes were fixed steadily on Vallery. "I was standing at the Asdic door when Ralston handed the boards to Carslake.
I overheard them, every word they said."
Vallery's face became very still.
He glanced at Turner, saw that he, too, was waiting intently.
"And Ralston's version of the conversation?" In spite of himself, Vallery's voice was rough, edged with suspense.
"Completely accurate, sir." The words were hardly audible. "In every detail.
Ralston told the exact truth."
Vallery closed his eyes for a moment, turned slowly, heavily away.
He made no protest as he felt Turner's hand under his arm, helping him down the steep ladder.
Old Socrates had told him a hundred times that he carried the ship on his back.
He could feel the weight of it now, the crushing burden of every last ounce of it.
Vallery was at dinner with Tyndall, in the Admiral's day cabin, when the message arrived.
Sunk in private thought, he gazed down at his untouched food as Tyndall smoothed out the signal.
The Admiral cleared his throat. "On course. On time. Sea moderate, wind freshening. Expect rendezvous as planned.
Commodore 77." He laid the signal down.
"Good God!
Seas moderate, fresh winds, Do you reckon he's in the same damned ocean as us?"
Vallery smiled faintly.
"This is it, sir."
"This is it," Tyndall echoed.
He turned to the messenger.
"Make a signal.
'You are running into severe storm.
Rendezvous unchanged.
You may be delayed.
Will remain at rendezvous until your arrival.'
That clear enough, Captain?"
"Should be, sir.
Radio silence?"
"Oh, yes.
Add
'Radio silence.
Admiral, 14th A.C.S.'
Get it off at once, will you?
Then tell W.T. to shut down themselves."
The door shut softly.
Tyndall poured himself some coffee, looked across at Vallery.
"That boy still on your mind, Dick?"
Vallery smiled non-committally, lit a cigarette.
At once he began to cough harshly.
"Sorry, sir," he apologised.
There was silence for some time, then he looked up quizzically. "What mad ambition drove me to become a cruiser captain?" he asked sadly.
Tyndall grinned. "I don't envy you... I seem to have heard this conversation before.
What are you going to do about Ralston, Dick?"
"What would you do, sir?" Vallery countered.
"Keep him locked up till we return from Russia.
On a bread-and-water diet, in irons if you like."