'I'd say that I would be eternally in your debt, my lord.'

Dungarth swallowed his kill-devil and waved Drinkwater's gratitude aside.

'I make no promises, but you'll have heard of the Freya affair, eh? The Danes have had their ruffled feathers smoothed, but the Tsar has taken offence at the force of Lord Whitworth's embassy to Copenhagen to sort the matter out. He resented the entry of British men of war into the Baltic. I tell you this in confidence Nathaniel, recalling you to your assurances when you served aboard Kestrel…'

Drinkwater nodded, feeling his pulse quicken. 'I understand, my lord.'

'Vaubois had surrendered Malta to us. Pitt is of the opinion that Mahon is a sufficient base for the Mediterranean but many of us do not agree. We will hold Malta.' Dungarth raised a significant eyebrow. 'The Tsar covets the island, so too does Ferdinand of the Two Sicilies, but Tsar Paul is Grand Master of the Order of St John and his claim has a specious validity. At the present moment the Coalition against France threatens to burst like a rotten apple: Austria has not fired a shot since her defeat at Marengo in April. In short the Tsar has it in his power to break the whole alliance with ease. He is unstable enough to put his wounded pride before political sense.' He paused to toss off the rum. 'You will recollect at our last contre-temps with His Imperial Majesty, he offered to settle the differences between our two nations in single combat with the King!' Dungarth laughed. 'This time he has settled for merely confiscating all British property in Russia.'

Drinkwater's eyes widened in comprehension.

'I see you follow me,' went on Dungarth. 'For a change we are remarkably well informed of developments both at St Petersburg and at Copenhagen.' He smiled with an ironic touch of self-congratulation. 'Despite the massive subsidies being paid him the Tsar feigns solicitude for Denmark.