'Pray let us terminate the reminiscences, Hortense, they are painful for both of us. Do I understand you wish me to have you a pensioner of the British government?'

'Please ...' There was no denying the extremity to which the woman was reduced.

'Sadly, you are unlikely to believe me when I say I am of little influence and certainly quite incapable of finding the support which would gain you such a living ...'

'I don't ask for very much, Nathaniel; fifty pounds per annum, enough to keep me from the gutter ... forty even.' She saw him shaking his head and a sudden fire kindled in her eyes. She dropped the intimacy they had fallen into. 'Come Captain, you cannot claim to be of no account. I know you are otherwise; why else are you serving in a squadron commanded by a royal prince? Your Prince William could see to it that I was awarded such a pension! Shall I go and petition him ...?' She was scornful, her eyes ablaze.

'Madame, Madame, you do not know what you say!' Drinkwater had to laugh. 'His Royal Highness and his brothers are so often in debt that I would counsel you to steer clear of that path. You might find yourself reduced to whoring in his bed in expectation of guineas, only to be paid in florins! England is not France; your Prince of Benevento has far more power than Prince William Henry, and probably a more generous purse, whatever other vices he has.'

'But you can do it, Nathaniel, for God's sake, you must! Do I have to beg? I will ...' She looked round and saw the cot.

'For God's sake get up! This is too melancholy a drama for such behaviour ...' Drinkwater was keenly aware that, despite his caution, Hortense Santhonax had boxed him into a corner. 'Forty pounds you say? Well, well, I will see what I can do, though don't depend upon it. Come, come,' he floundered, 'it is not seemly to see you so reduced...'