Cornwell hesitated for a moment, then slowly sat down. His ‘Of course, sir,’ was barely audible.

As Cornwell sat, Cochrane looked over to the Attorney-General. There was no expression on the judge’s face, but Flood knew the reason for the look. He was as intrigued as Sir James at the request for speed before an enquiry had even commenced. Since the arrival of the Mary Celeste on December 12, barely a day had passed when something had not arisen to provide fresh grounds for suspicion. He glanced sideways at the American Consul.

It was remarkable that he appeared to be the only one who recognised it, thought Flood. But now the enquiry was about to begin.

It would not take long for them to realise how obtuse they had all been.

Benjamin Briggs had been schooled to conceal pride; certainly in any material achievement or possession.

‘Thy money perish with thee,’ he murmured, remembering. An Act of the Apostles. One of his father’s favourites. His father-in-law’s, too, by strange coincidence. From his wife’s father, it was understandable. Expected, even. The man was a clergyman, after all.

His own father’s devoutness to the Scriptures had surprised Benjamin in his early youth, before he had sailed under the man’s rigid captaincy and come to realise how easy it was to feel the power of God at sea.

His father had been a good teacher, of Scriptures as well as seamanship. A strict man; spartan, by some assessments. But always fair, as Benjamin knew he himself was fair to his men, not by conscious, thinking effort, as if attempting to emulate his father, but naturally because he was imbued with the quality so that he knew no other way to behave.

That was why he felt embarrassment at the realisation of his pride, because he knew his father would have criticised it. He trailed his hand along the top-gallant rail, savouring the texture of the fresh varnish and the new woodwork beneath. Perhaps, on this occasion, the man would have understood. Maybe felt the sensation himself; he had sufficient cause to be proud, after all. Four sons, each a ship’s captain, carrying on the family tradition. And his only daughter married to one.