‘Here we are, sir.’The orderly stood aside at a doorway and bowed as Arthur passed inside. He rang a bell further down the corridor and then left Arthur alone.The anteroom was the same small room where he had met Nelson nearly two years before. As he recalled the moment and vividly pictured the admiral sitting there that day, Arthur felt a sudden sense of what the man’s loss meant to those who had met him, however briefly, and to the nation as a whole. King George and all his subjects had slept more easily since Trafalgar.While that great battle had not won the war, it had made Britain’s defeat unlikely. As the thought came to him,Arthur wondered on whose shoulders it would fall to complete the great project that Nelson had given his life for.

‘Sir? If you would come in.’

Arthur looked up and saw a thin-faced young man in a neat dark coat standing in the doorway to Castlereagh’s office.

‘I’m twenty minutes early.’

‘The minister wishes to see you at once, sir.’

‘Very well, then.’ Arthur strode across the room and followed the man inside. Castlereagh rose and stretched out a hand as soon as he saw Arthur. The young man settled himself at the side of the table and picked up a pencil and notebook.

‘Good to see you again,Wellesley!’

‘Thank you, sir,’ Arthur replied as he took the man’s hand and gave it a firm shake.

‘Sit you down, man!’ Castlereagh smiled.‘How are things in Ireland?’

‘I am sure you have seen my reports, sir. I believe I have been thorough enough in those documents.’

‘I’m sure you have.They are models of clarity and conciseness. And like any such things, they lack the personal perception that the reader so often craves. So I ask you again.’

Arthur smiled back, pleased by the minister’s candour.Yet he knew that whatever admirable qualities Castlereagh possessed, he was still a politician and needed to be spoken to in a circumspect manner. For a moment he wondered if he should speak frankly in front of the third man, whom he assumed to be the minister’s personal secretary. But if Castlereagh asked such frank questions in front of the younger man, then Arthur should answer them in a similar fashion. He cleared his throat.

‘Sir, we hold Ireland, as a strong man holds a weaker one - by the throat. We can keep Ireland under control as long as we don’t grow weary of the strength it takes to subdue the natives. Unless we can make Englishmen of them there will never be peace there, except under the muzzles of British guns.’

Castlereagh was still for a moment as he stared directly at Arthur. Then he nodded. ‘I see. No peace, then.’