'Well, Templeton, what have we received recently? There was the letter from Carlscrona reporting eleven of the line in ordinary ...'

'From the Master of the Lady Erskine, sir.'

'Quite so ...'

'And the message from Antwerp about the current state of new building there, four ships and a frigate. A routine report, to be sure, but one which demonstrates the continuing ability and determination of the French and their allies to build men o' war.'

'Yes, and the encrypted dispatch from Helgoland spoke of arms being stored at Hamburg. There does not seem much of significance in that.'

'No, no,' Templeton agreed quickly, 'Hamburg is a French fortress. Cavalry remounts, recruits, stores and so forth are all assembled there. The French Army Corps in North Germany draw their reinforcements from the Hamburg depot'

'And yet Liepmann thought it worth letting them know in Helgoland,' Drinkwater reflected, adding, 'Liepmann is in our pay, not that of the Foreign Office.'

'You have great faith in Herr Liepmann, sir,' said Templeton obliquely, knowing that Drinkwater had once met the Jewish merchant.

'It would not surprise me if these arms are locked away in one of our Hebrew friend's warehouses, Templeton. If so, he has probably learned of their purpose. Don't you think it odd they may be secured in a warehouse, rather than in the possession of the French military authorities?'

'That is mere conjecture,' Templeton said dismissively.

'True.' Drinkwater was content to leave the matter there. He knew Templeton set great store by the intelligence from Antwerp. It was a regular dispatch, a long message in the cipher it was Templeton's peculiar skill to disentangle and he had a proprietorial air towards it.