Addington chose his words carefully: "But would it not be prudent to send ships into the Mediterranean to stop him at the outset?"

"And leave England's defence the poorer?" He pondered for a space and continued, in an odd tone, "But, then, the decision is taken out of my hands. What I think is of no account. The Austrians are adamant that as a condition to an alliance we must provide a naval presence to protect Naples—you will recollect that the Queen of Naples is Austrian born. And as the Austrians are the only friends we have—pace the Portuguese— we must accede. And then, of course, there's today's dispatch from Genoa ..."

"Genoa?"

"Yes. Something that changes the stakes utterly."

"How so?"

"We have a reliable agent in Genoa. He's reporting that the French have been active, buying barrels—four thousand of the very biggest, with ten iron hoops but no bung holes."

Addington was mystified.

For the first time, Pitt smiled. "Henry, old fellow, you'll never be mistaken for a character of the seafaring species. Such barrels are tied to ships' sides to assist them in floating over shallow waters. And that is proof positive that Dundas is right. The French armament is to force the Dardanelles by this means and take Constantinople. Sultan Selim III is friendly to us and we cannot allow this to happen. I shall therefore direct that St Vincent off Cadiz forthwith undertakes a reconnaissance in force. We will return to the Mediterranean!"

CHAPTER 1

LIEUTENANT THOMAS KYDD TURNED in his chair to Tysoe, his servant. "An' I'll have another soup, if y' please." He smiled at his friend Renzi, and loosened his stock in the warmth of the crowded wardroom of HMS Tenacious. "Thunderin' good prog, Nicholas, d'ye think?"