This argument had too much justice for Laurence to ignore; he managed barely to make himself nod, once, by way of granting permission, and looked the other way when Rankin joined Granby’s table that night, in a small hostelry, for the dinner which should honor his promotion. Granby cast a worried look at him, sidelong, and said to Rankin, in tones of slightly excessive heartiness, “I am afraid Caesar means to lead you something of a merry chase, sir; a most determined beast.”

Granby, who had more knowledge of the management of a determined if not obstreperous beast than any ten men, might have been pardoned for some degree of private satisfaction in this remark. “If it is any consolation,” he had said to Laurence, earlier, rather more frankly, “the little beast is his just deserts, anyway: how I will laugh to see him dragged hither and yon, protesting all he likes that Caesar must obey. That creature won’t take being shot off in a corner and left to rot.”

Laurence could not wholly take amusement in any part of the circumstances which forced him to endure Rankin’s company; but he did not deny a certain grim satisfaction, which became incredulous when Rankin answered, coolly, “You are very mistaken, Captain Granby; I anticipate nothing of the sort.

“That there has been some mismanagement of the egg, I cannot dispute,” Rankin added, “nor that his hatching did not give cause for concerns such as you have described: but I have been most heartened since those first moments to find Caesar a most complaisant creature by nature. Indeed, it is not too far to say I think him a most remarkable beast, quite out of the common way in intelligence and in tractability.”

Laurence forgot his feelings in bemusement and Granby looked equally at a loss for response, when so far as they had seen, Caesar had spent the afternoon demonstrating only an insistent gluttony. Perhaps Rankin chose to deceive himself, rather than think himself overmatched, Laurence wondered; but Rankin added, with a self-satisfaction that seemed past mere wishful thinking, “I have already begun instructing him on better principles, and I have every hope of shaping him into the attentive and obedient beast which must be the ambition of every aviator. Already he begins to partake of my sentiments and understanding as he ought, and to value my opinion over all others.”

“Well,” Granby said doubtfully, then, “Mr. Forthing, the bottle stands by you,” and the conversation limped away into a fresh direction; but in the morning Laurence was astonished to find Rankin at the promontory, with a book, to attend Caesar’s breakfast. He seated himself at Caesar’s side and began to read to the dragonet as the beast ate: an aviation manual of some sort, Laurence collected from what he overheard, although the language was very peculiar.

“Oh, he has never dug up that antique thing,” Granby said, with disgust, and added, “It is from the Tudor age, I think; all about how to manage a dragon. We read it in school, but I cannot think of anyone who gives it a thought anymore.”

Caesar listened very attentively, however, while he gnawed on a bone, and said earnestly, “My dear captain, I cannot disagree at all, it seems very sensible indeed; pray do you think I ought to try and manage another sheep? I take it quite to heart, what the book says about the importance of early feeding. If it accords with your judgment, of course: I am wholly willing to be guided by your superior experience; but I must say I find I am so much better able to attend when I am quite full.”

“This,” Iskierka said, “is what comes of worrying about hatchlings.”

Temeraire did not think that was very just: he had not worried about Caesar for very long, certainly, and at the present moment he would not have given one scrap of liver for all Caesar’s health and happiness; not, of course, that Caesar seemed to be in any short supply of either. In one week he had eaten nine sheep, an entire cow, a tunny, and even three kangaroos, after Rankin had been forced to reconsider the speed at which he was depleting his funds.

That would have been quite enough to make the dragonet intolerable, particularly the smacking, gloating way in which he took his gluttonous meals, but apart from these offensive habits, he would strut, and wake one up out of a pleasant drowse in the midday heat by singing out loudly, “Oh, my captain is coming to see me,” and he would with very great satisfaction inform Rankin that he was looking very fine, that day, and make a pointed note of every bit of gold or decoration which he wore.

The one consolation which Temeraire had promised himself, Rankin’s certain neglect, which should also ensure his absence, did not materialize: instead Rankin was forever coming, and so Temeraire had to endure not only Caesar, but Rankin also, and hear his irritating voice all the day, reading out from this absurd book full of nonsense about how one ought to never ask questions of one’s captain, and spend all one’s time practicing formation-maneuvers.

“I cannot understand in the least,” Temeraire complained, “why when he had the very nicest of dragons, he was never to be seen; and now one cannot be rid of him. I have even hinted a little that he might take himself off, in the afternoons when it is so very hot and one wishes only to sleep, but he will never go.”

“I imagine he had a better chance of society more to his liking, in Britain,” Laurence said. “He was a courier-captain on light duty, and might easily visit friends of his social order; he has never been a particular favorite, among other aviators.”

“No, I am sure he has not,” Temeraire said, disgustedly.

Meanwhile there was no end of trouble to be seen, because the company Rankin did keep, aside from Caesar, was Governor Bligh, whom Temeraire had now classed a thoroughly unpleasant sort of person: not surprising when one considered he was part of Government. Bligh certainly had some notion that when Caesar was a little more grown, Rankin would help put him back in his post; Temeraire had even overheard Rankin discussing the matter with Caesar.

“Oh, certainly,” Caesar said, “I will always be happy to oblige you, my dear captain; and Governor Bligh. It is of the first importance that our colony—” Our colony, Temeraire fumed silently. “—that our colony should have the finest leadership. I understand,” he added, “that governors have quite a great deal of power, isn’t it? They may give grants of land?”

Rankin paused and said, “—yes; unclaimed land is in the governor’s gift.”

“Just so, just so,” Caesar said. “I understand it takes a great deal of land to raise cattle, and sheep; I am sure Governor Bligh must be well aware of it.”

“A clever beast,” Laurence said dryly, when Temeraire with indignation had repeated this exchange to him. “I am afraid, my dear, we may find ourselves quite at a stand.”

“Laurence,” Temeraire said, shocked, “Laurence, surely you do not imagine he could beat me. If ever he tried to cause us any difficulty—”

“If you were ever to come on to blows,” Laurence said, “we should already be well in the soup; such a conflict must at all costs be avoided. Even in defeat, he might easily do you a terrible injury, and to run such a risk, for the reward only of making yourself more an outlaw and terrifying to the local populace, cannot be a rational choice. Consider that every week now brings us closer to word from England, and I trust the establishment of a new order.”

“Which,” Temeraire said, “is likely to be just as bad as Bligh, I expect.”

“So long as we are not responsible for either its establishment or its destruction,” Laurence said, grimly, “and neither its hated enemy nor its cosseted ally, our situation can only be improved.”

“I do not see very well how,” Temeraire said, brooding over the matter; he was not quite certain he saw it the same way. “Laurence, if we must stay here for some time—?” He paused, interrogatively.