“Might I put forward a man of my own choosing, sir? I know it is only granted to very senior officers, but…”

“Such an honour I believe your excellent previous service would allow, sir,” Mr. Marsden cautiously seemed to agree, “but, is the said officer immediately available, or might his transfer from his current posting cause too much delay…?” He lifted his hands and shoulders in perplexity.

“My choice, Mister Marsden, would be my former First Lieutenant from my last ship, Reliant, Mister Geoffrey Westcott,” Lewrie told him. “We’ve worked very well together, the last three years and more. And, as for his availability, he’s seated belowstairs in the Waiting Room seekin’ an appointment this very instant!”

“Oh, well!” the First Secretary exclaimed, perking up considerably. “That would be capital. If you vouch for his good qualitites, then that is good enough for me, and the Navy.”

“I did recommend him as more than due a command of his own, sir, but … bird in hand, all that?” Lewrie said with a smile.

“So, your Lieutenant Westcott would be amenable? Excellent!” Mr. Marsden said, beaming. “How soon might you imagine you could go aboard and take charge of her, sir?”

“Hmm … all my shipboard furnishings, and some men from my retinue are at my father’s country house down in Surrey, sir. I can get a letter off to them today, but I have no idea how long it will take them t’pack up and arrive at the Nore. Is there any urgency in getting Sapphire back to sea, sir?” Lewrie asked.

“Well, under these despicable circumstances, no,” Mr. Marsden said after a long moment with his head laid over to one side in deep thought. “She has not yet received fresh sailing orders. Most of her time in commission has been spent in three-month cruises in the North Sea and the Baltic approaches, but that could change. I expect that are you able to go aboard and read yourself in within the next fortnight, that might be sufficient. In the meantime, I will send orders down to Sheerness to announce the arrival of a new Captain and First Officer, and for her Second, Harcourt, to continue victualling, and keeping her crew exercised, ’til you arrive.”

“That’d be grand, sir!” Lewrie crowed, a tad too loud and eager.

“I will send your orders and active commission documents round your lodgings within a day or so,” Marsden told him, much relieved to have his problems solved. “Once in receipt, drop a note of hand by to pay for the fees.”

There goes better than fifty pounds! Lewrie thought. Just like the first time he’d been made “Post” and appointed into the Proteus frigate back in 1797, he’d always had the droll idea that the quickest way to command of a ship would be to turn up at Admiralty with a full purse, and throw money at someone! The patents of his knighthood and baronetcy had cost a gruesomely high sum, too! Every honour bestowed by HM Government had a high price, one way or another.

“Thank you, Mister Marsden,” Lewrie said, preparing to rise and depart. “I’ve spent too long on the ‘beach’, as has Westcott. Should I send him up straightaway, or have him wait ’til your calendar is…?”

“Oh, send him up,” Marsden said, with a genial chuckle. “Saves a stamp, or a messenger’s time hunting up his lodgings. And I thank you, Sir Alan. It’s damned good of you to take on Sapphire, though you’ve proved yourself a most accomplished frigate captain, and had a long run in that class. Seniority demands, though, that men move up and on, sooner or later.”

“Hey, sir?” Lewrie asked, wondering what Marsden was maundering about. Onward and upward, mine arse! he thought.

“Why, Sapphire’s a Fourth Rate, of the Antelope group. Quite modern, really,” Marsden said in gleeful praise, “re-fitted with iron knees, and metal fresh-water tanks. Last of her class built in 1792.”

“A two-decker fifty-gunner?” Lewrie replied, trying very hard not to start kicking furniture.

I’ve been had, by Christ! he fumed to himself; Is it too late t’beg off? Start limpin’, again?

“I did not mention that? How remiss of me,” Marsden said with genuine regret. “Been on the job too long, I suppose. Can’t say that I won’t miss the office, but one does get older, and it is about time for a younger man to take my place of the First Lord’s, Lord Mulgrave’s, and the Prime Minister’s, choice.”

“Oh, surely not, sir!” Lewrie exclaimed, feigning distress to hear that. “Won’t be the same with you gone.”

“Oh, tosh, Sir Alan,” Marsden pooh-poohed, “I only fear that it will be. I’ve found that Admiralty grinds on in the same old way, century to century, ha ha! Again, sir, thank you for taking on Sapphire, and I wish you all success in your new command.”

“Thank you, sir, and good day,” Lewrie replied, shaking the old fellow by the hand, then heading out.

She’s a ship, an active commission, and full pay, Lewrie forced himself to think; Plaster “gladsome” on yer phyz, ye gullible clown, and look pleased with her! Even if she does turn out t’be Tom Turdman’s barge at Dung Wharf!

He trotted down the stairs to the ground level and the crowd in the Waiting Room, looked towards Lt. Westcott, and smiled broader.

“Good news, sir?” Westcott asked, rising to come meet him.

“For both of us, Mister Westcott,” Lewrie told him, putting the best face on it. “We have a ship! Sapphire, badly in need of both a Captain and a First Officer. I requested you, and we are both now employed!”

“That’s tremendous, sir! Just grand!” Westcott loudly declared; loud enough to set many sets of teeth on edge among the un-employed.

“The First Secretary wants t’see you for a few minutes,” Lewrie told him. “After your meeting, I’ll be in the courtyard, havin’ a tea. Mind,” Lewrie continued, in a softer voice as he walked with Westcott to the foot of the stairs, “she ain’t a frigate. She’s a fifty-gunner, lyin’ at the Nore.”

Westcott made a faint moue of disappointment, but cheered up a second later, drolly saying, “The First Officer in a Fourth Rate gets a shilling or two more a day than the First in a Fifth Rate, even so. How did she come to need a First and a Captain both, sir?”

“I’ll tell ye over dinner,” Lewrie promised. “That’ll be something for you and your new girl to celebrate tonight, hey?”

“The idea of my sailing away might prove … useful, aye, sir!” Westcott said with a laugh and a wink. “Melts many a girlish heart. And … other things.”

“I’ll have t’get a note to Pettus, Yeovill, Desmond, and Furfy, with a note of hand, for them t’pack up instanter,” Lewrie deliberated, thinking of all he still would need to purchase in London while awaiting their arrival. “It’ll take me the better part of ten days to a fortnight before I can read myself in.”

“As soon as I receive my commission documents, sir, I can coach down to the Nore and lay the ground for your arrival,” Westcott offered. “I don’t have all your encumbrances, and could set out Monday.”

“If you can tear yourself away from all your passionate leave-takin’s that early, I’d be deeply in your debt, Geoffrey,” Lewrie said in gratitude. “Aye, that’d work out best.”

“Once I’ve seen the First Secretary, is there any reason for us to linger in this ‘Pit of Despair’, sir?” Westcott japed.

“Christ, no!” Lewrie hooted. “I’ve a favourite eatery over in Savoy Street, off the Strand, a truly grand place. When you are done with Mister Marsden, we’ll whistle up a coach and celebrate!”

“Be right with you, then, sir,” Westcott heartily agreed. “See you in the courtyard, then we’ll hoist sail and get out of here!”

BOOK ONE

Britons, you stay too long;

Quickly aboard bestow you,

And with a merry gale

Swell your stretch’d sail

With vows as strong

As the winds that blow you.