Bolitho said shortly, "And what are you about, sir?" His hand dropped to his sword. "I'll not be asking twice!"

The bearded man stared past him. Looking for an escort? It was hard to tell.

But he grinned confidently as he replied, "I am the deputy sheriff of Rochester, Captain."

"That is something. Now we know each other's rank."

At that moment one of the captives threw himself to his knees and almost choked as someone dragged hard on the halter.

Bolitho recognised just one word. Lieutenant. It was enough.

"I would suggest you release these men at once. They are both sea-officers in the King's service."

He saw the significance of his words sink in, the way that some of the mob were attempting to drift away and dissociate themselves from the incident.

But the bearded man yelled, "And be damned to them and their bloody press gang, I say!" He stared around and showed his teeth as a few men shouted in support.

Like baying hounds at the kill, Bolitho thought.

He repeated, "Remove their ropes." He nodded to Young Matthew. "Do it, boy." He turned towards the deputy sheriff. "And you, sir, will dismount. Now."

The half-naked lieutenant, his face and body cut and bruised from several blows, staggered to his feet.

"They attacked us, sir." He was almost incoherent. His companion was much younger, a midshipman probably. One sign of panic now, and the rioters might rush them. They would be swamped.

Bolitho watched the bearded man dismount. "Where are their uniforms?"

He stared at Bolitho, then burst out laughing. "You are a cool one, Captain-I'll give you that, for what it's worth!" His mood changed. "They came without asking consent from the mayor. We taught them a lesson." He tried to meet Bolitho's gaze and added thickly, "They'll not forget it!"

Bolitho waited. "Their uniforms?"

The man looked up at his mounted companion. "Tell him, Jack."