The Mauritius Command by Patrick O'Brian, 1977.

The fourth in the Jack Aubrey/Stephen Maturin series, and great in yet a different way. The book opens with Aubrey at home in Hampshire, now married to Sophie and finding that domestic living is not all that he had hoped.

This cottage, though picturesque among its ash trees and even romantic, ideally suited for two in the early days of his marriage, was neither large nor comfortable; it had always been low-ceilinged, pokey and inconvenient, but now that it also contained two babies, a niece, a ruined mother-in-law, some large pieces of furniture ... and a couple of servants, it was something like the Black Hole of Calcutta, except that whereas the Hole was hot, dry and airless, Ashgrove Cottage let in draughts from all sides, while the damp rising from the floor joined the leaks in the roof to form pools in many of the rooms.

It's a comic beginning; O'Brian describes the infant twin girls thus: "They had pale, globular faces, and in the middle of each face a surprisingly long and pointed nose called the turnip to an impartial observer's mind." But very soon Maturin has arranged what both Jack and Sophie want most, Aubrey's return to a sailing ship.

Aubrey is appointed temporary Commodore in charge of retaking the island of Mauritius from the French. One of the things I've liked about this series from the start is the insights into work relationships. Aubrey is now supervising not just a crew, at which he's an expert, but other captains, and that's a whole new set of problems and sensitivities. The showy, competitive Lord Clonfert, who measures himself against Aubrey and resents his success, is a particularly well-drawn tragic character. O'Brian is masterful at allusions (often subtle) which capture the truth of the situation. Here's Maturin reflecting on what ultimately happens to Clonfert's rivalry with Aubrey:

Stephen ... looked at Jack with his pale, expressionless eyes, looking objectively at his friend, tall, sanguine, almost beefy, full of health, rich, and under his kindly though moderate concern happy and even triumphant. He thought, 'You cannot blame the bull because the frog burst: the bull has no comprehension of the affair...'

The complex political games and jockeying for position in the Navy and the government at large are also highlighted in this volume. Maturin's role as a valuable spy for the British gives him the power to turn the wheels to Aubrey's advantage, another plot thread neatly worked out. Since there are 16 volumes yet to come, and Aubrey is already into middle age and rising fast in the ranks, I wonder what's in store for him. There are hints that Maturin is seriously depressed; in the first volume I found O'Brian's opaqueness frustrating, but now it's part of the charm that leads one on to the next book.