Do you remember when I dug a musket ball out of the shoulder of the Comte de Tocqueville aboard the Kestrel? I can see you now, watching me; I felt the depth of your hatred then, though I cannot imagine why you felt thus. Since that time I acknowledge I might have earned your hate, but I think you have come here because you trust me. And, in a strange sense, despite past events, I find myself trusting you.' He reached out and touched her lightly on her shoulder. 'Please do go on.'

She gave so large a sigh that her whole body heaved and when she looked up at him her fine eyes were swimming in tears.

'Yes, I remember the cabin and the wound ... I remember you drinking brandy as you bent over De Tocqueville with a knife, but I do not remember hating you. Perhaps my terror at escaping the mob, of having abandoned everything ...' She sighed and shrugged, sipping at her glass. 'But I know you to be a man of honour and that you will not abuse the confidence I bear.' She took a gulp of the wine and went on. 'When it was known in Paris that the British ships which would escort the Bourbon back to France included the Andromeda commanded by Captain Nathaniel Drinkwater, I knew also that our lives were destined to touch at least once more.' She paused a moment, and then resumed. 'When we last met in Hamburg, I asked you if you believed in providence; do you remember what you said?'

'I imagine I answered in the affirmative.'

'You said the one word, "implicitly".'

'Did I? Pray continue,' he prompted gently.

'I also learned that you had foiled Marshal Murat's plans by stopping the shipping of arms from Hamburg to America ...'

'May I ask how?'

'Captain Drinkwater, you are a senior officer in the English navy, yet', she gestured round her, 'this is only a frigate. And I know it to be an old and ill-used frigate.'

'You are remarkably well informed.'