“I may visit relations. Friends.” The man was forcing him to tell these lies! He was indignant, he resented it. At the same time felt a kind of latitude, childish no doubt, immoral, but not without its own strange appeal. Having mentioned his Scottish relatives, none of whom had existed the moment before he spoke, he instantly saw, in his mind’s eye, faint pictures of their homes.

“You play the fiddle, Mr. Lovall?”

“So you have seen.”

“In different circumstances we might invite you on board. Our captain is very fond of music.”

“Yes,” said Lacroix. “Another occasion.”

“And you are well armed.” The pistol was lying on its wrapper of oilskin. It had been placed like an exhibit at the centre of the piled belongings on the blanket. “It looks like a military piece. Swivel ramrod. Looks like a cavalry pistol.”

“It is.”

The lieutenant waited.

“I was, for a time, with the volunteers,” said Lacroix. “It was a very local affair.”

“Parades in the market place and such?”

“Exactly.”

“You have fired it though?”

“Fired it? Of course.”

“And you thought to bring it with you? You are going the wrong way, Mr. Lovall, if you hoped to meet with the French.”

“Does your frigate hope to meet the French? Up here?”

“We are keeping an eye on the Irish, Mr. Lovall. The French come and go but the Irish are always with us.”

Lacroix said nothing. Both men looked at the things on the blanket as if considering making a purchase.

“What can you tell me,” asked the lieutenant, “about the sailor who is hiding?” He had dropped his voice to ask the question but when he saw Lacroix had not heard him well he spoke up again. He was a man used to pushing his words through weather.

“If we find him we could press the whole crew and tow you into Milford Haven. But if you were to oblige us, Mr. Lovall, we’ll take just the man himself and leave you to go on your way.”

“You’ll not find anyone,” said Lacroix. “I have seen them all. None is missing.”

“He is known to sail on this vessel. We have knowledge of it. We would have stopped her last time if we had been at leisure to.”

“I suppose,” said Lacroix, “the crewing of a ship like this must be a casual affair.”

“He’s a deserter.”

“A what?”

“A deserter. A runaway.”

“I am sorry to hear it,” said Lacroix.

By the entrance to the cabin one of the boarding party appeared. He was the biggest of them and had to stoop in the passageway. Must spend his life stooping on the frigate.

“Well?” said the lieutenant.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“No, sir.”

The lieutenant turned back to Lacroix. “I have your word as a gentleman, Mr. Lovall?”

“You do.”

The lieutenant sniffed. “How’s this,” he said. “We take you all off, sink this ship and see who swims?”