They walked through the blasted gate and along the road toward the harbor lights.

Matthew said quietly, “Do you want to—”

“No,” came the answer, delivered like a blow to the jaw.

Matthew remained silent. They walked on, side-by-side for a few yards until Julian said sharply, “Don’t walk beside me. Walk either in front or behind.” This one was delivered through the gritted teeth of the bad man, returned from his visit home.

Matthew thought he could fling a curse into Julian’s face but his teeth—which had already seen enough torment to last the rest of his days—might well wind up littering the road. He stalked onward, five or six paces in front, his head down and the need for sleep on this long day pressing in upon him, laboring his legs and fogging his thinking, but always the horrible clock that dictated Berry’s fate ticking—always ticking—in his mind.

Six

“Young Julian! Sir, please wait!”

It was Windom’s voice. Julian abruptly stopped and turned around, as did Matthew. They had not gotten quite a hundred yards from the house, and here came Windom carrying a lantern and wearing a heavy brown fearnaught coat over his nightgown and a white woolen cap with a brown tassel at its summit.

“Windom!” Julian said. “Christ, man! Get out of this cold!”

“A word, sir. Just a word and then I must get back. Your father went upstairs after you left, he doesn’t know I’ve come after you.”

“I should say not. What is it?”

“Well … your question about the two ships. The mortar vessel and the ship-of-the-line.” He glanced quickly at Matthew, who had come to stand beside Julian whether he wanted the company or not. “It’s peculiar, sir … I mean … well … what I overheard … that is—”

“Settle down,” Julian told him. “All right, put your thoughts in order and start over again.”

“Yes, sir. Well … a few days ago … three days, I think … yes, three days … a man came to visit Master Devane … and you know your father keeps his business office at the house. It was a business visit … but I saw the man in, and Master Devane told me to take the admiral’s coat.”

“So an admiral visited him? I’m sure that’s not so—”

“Not so very uncommon, sir, because after all he is the harbormaster and has his … um … his history. But usually they are social calls when one of the gentlemen in blue is passing Bristol and perhaps puts into port for supplies. This one had a request. I overheard it when I brought in the teacart. He wanted to know if there would be any merchant traffic at sea between Bristol and Swansea on the date of last night. I mean … this being morning … it would have been the night before last.”

“An unusual question,” said Julian. “What was his reason?”

“He told Master Devane he was tasked with performing nighttime military maneuvers off the coast of Wales between here and Swansea, and they would be firing shells onto a stationary target at sea. Evidently the gentleman didn’t wish merchant shipping to wander in range.”