The cargo continued to move steadily into number four hold. About four o’clock in the afternoon I heard the sound of the clashing of gears and the asthmatic wheezing of what sounded like a very elderly engine indeed. This, I thought, would be the passengers at last, but no; what clanked into view round the corner of the dock gate was a dilapidated truck with hardly a shred of paint left on the body work, white canvas showing on the tyres, and the engine hood removed to reveal what looked, from my elevation, like a solid block of rust. One of the special Detroit jobs probably. On its cracked and splintered platform it carried three medium-sized crates, freshly boxed and metal-banded. Wrapped in a blue haze from the staccato backfiring of its exhaust, vibrating like a broken tuning fork and rattling in every bolt in its superannuated chassis, the truck trundled heavily across the cobbles and pulled up not five paces from where Macdonald was standing.

A little man in white ducks and peaked cap jumped out through the space where the door ought to have been, stood still for a couple of seconds until he got the hang of terra firma again, and then scuttled off in the direction of our gangway. I recognised him as our Carracio agent, the one with the low opinion of Detroit, and wondered what fresh trouble he was bringing with him. I found out in three minutes flat when Captain Bullen appeared on deck, an anxious-looking agent scurrying along behind him. The captain’s blue eyes were snapping; the red complexion was overlaid with puce, but he had the safety valve screwed right down.

“Coffins, Mister,” he said tightly. “Coffins, no less.” I suppose there is a quick and clever answer to a conversational gambit like that, but I couldn’t find it, so I said politely, “coffins, sir?”

“Coffins, Mister. Not empty, either. For shipment to New York.” He flourished some papers. “Authorizations, shipping notes, everything in order. Including a sealed request signed by no less than the ambassador. Three of them. Two British, one American subject. Killed in the hunger riots.”