Chase reluctantly found the big leather bag which held the coins he had taken from Nana Rao and counted out a substantial portion that he gave to Lord William. His lordship shuddered at the thought of handling the grubby currency, but forced himself to take the money and pour it into his coat’s tail pockets. “Your note,” he said, and handed Chase a scrap of paper. “You haven’t received new orders, I suppose?”

“Alas no, my lord. We are still ordered to find the Revenant.”

“I was hoping you’d be going home instead. It is crucial I reach London quickly.” He frowned, then, without another word, turned away.

“You did not give me a chance, my lord,” Chase said, “to introduce my particular friend, Mister Sharpe.”

Lord William bestowed a second brief look at Sharpe and his lordship saw nothing to contradict his first opinion that the ensign was penniless and powerless, for he merely looked, calculated and glanced away without offering any acknowledgment, but in that brief meeting of eyes Sharpe had received an impression of force, confidence and arrogance. Lord William was a man who had more than his share of power, he wanted more and he would not waste time on those who had nothing to give him.

“Mister Sharpe served under Sir Arthur Wellesley,” Chase said.

“As did many thousands of others, I believe,” Lord William said carelessly, then frowned. “There is a service you can do me, Chase.”

“I am, of course, entirely at your lordship’s convenience,” Chase said politely.

“You have a barge and a crew?”

“All captains do,” Chase said.

“We must reach the Calliope. You could take us there?”

“Alas, my lord, I have promised Mr. Sharpe the barge,” Chase said, “but I am sure he will gladly share it with you. He too is bound for the Calliope.”

“I’d be happy to help,” Sharpe said.

Lord William’s expression suggested that Sharpe’s help was the last thing he would ever require. “We shall let our present arrangements stand,” he told Chase and, wasting no more time, stalked away.