St Vincent looked up from the papers on his desk. The report of Commander Drinkwater's boat expedition into Boulogne was rather different, but no matter, St Vincent liked his modesty. A hundred officers would have boasted of the night's exploit and measured the risk according to the number of corpses in their boats. Palgrave would have done that, St Vincent was certain, and the thought pleased the old man in the Tightness of his choice.

'Lord Dungarth speaks well of you, Captain.'

'Thank you, my Lord.' Drinkwater was beginning to feel uneasy, undermined by the compliments and aware that an officer with St Vincent's reputation was tardy of praise.

'You are perhaps thinking it unusual for a newly appointed sloop-captain to be interviewed by the First Lord, eh?'

Drinkwater nodded. 'Indeed, my Lord.'

'The Melusine is a fine sloop, taken from the French off the Penmarcks in ninety-nine and remarkably fast. What the French call a "corvette", though I don't approve of our using the word. Not an ideal ship for her present task…'

'No, my Lord?'

'No, Captain, your old command might have been better suited. Bomb vessels have proved remarkably useful in Arctic waters…'

Drinkwater opened his mouth and thought better of it. Before he could reflect further upon this revelation St Vincent had passed on.

'But it is not intended that you should linger long in northern latitudes. Since the King's speech in March it has been clear that the Peace would not last and we have been requested by the northern whale-fishery to afford some protection to their ships. During the last war it was customary to keep a cruiser off the North Cape and another off the Faeroes during the summer months while we still traded with Russia. Now that Tsar Alexander has reopened trade this will have to be reinstated. The whale-fishery, however, is sensitive. A small cruiser, the Melusine to be exact, was long designated to the task, principally because she was in commission throughout the peace.