Bolitho remarked coldly, "John Company has a record of treating its people like men, Sir Marcus, not as some will use them."

Drew turned and said sharply, "It is all I can offer. Their Lordships believe you to be suitable for it. However-"

Bolitho stood up and held his sword tightly against his hip.

"I apologise, Sir Marcus. It is not of your doing."

Drew swallowed hard. "I do understand." He tried to change the subject. "You will have none of your past company with you from Tempest, of course. She came home well before you and is now in service with the Channel Fleet. Tempest, and before that the-Unicorn, I believe?"

Bolitho watched him in despair. Doing his best. He heard himself reply, "Undine, sir."

"Well, in any case-" It was almost over.

Bolitho said quietly, "I shall have my coxswain. He is enough."

Drew saw one of the gilt doorhandles drop; the clerk was right on cue.

Bolitho added, "It is history now, maybe forgotten entirely. But one ship, my ship, was all His Britannic Majesty's navy had in the whole ocean to meet with and destroy Tuke." He turned and appeared to be studying the great painting, hearing perhaps the true sounds of war, feeling the pain of a ship under fire. He continued, "I fell that day. It was then that the fever rendered me helpless." He faced Drew again and smiled. The smile did not touch his grey eyes. "My coxswain killed Tuke. So you could say that he saved the islands all on his own-eh, Sir Marcus?"

Drew held out his hand. "I wish you well. My clerk will attend your orders. Be patient, Bolitho-England will need all her sailors soon." He frowned. "Does that amuse you, sir?"

Bolitho took his cocked hat from the hovering clerk.

"I was thinking of my late father, Captain James as he was to all who knew him. He once said much the same words to me."