‘It’s up to you, sir,’ replied Dan McReady. ‘I won’t lose nothing, whatever you decide to do. There’s no skin off my nose, even if you let this chance for revenge slip by. Just remember that it’s warmish now, while the sun’s still up, but they say it’s going to grow considerably chiller by midnight, and the price may have to rise, each hour you demur. It’s two dollars now, at twenty after five, but it could be three dollars by ten o’clock, and three-fifty by eleven.’

He stood up and pushed back his chair. With two straight fingers, he retrieved the bill of lading from Arthur’s desk and held it up.

‘You can see this bill’s authentic, sir, and not forged, and if you want to see the blankets themselves, they’re at Parkinson’s warehouse on Davis Street.’

Arthur Teach stood by the window. The temptation was very great. To have his own back on Collis Edmonds, and at the same time make himself more than half of the profit he had originally expected from the Aria’s blankets — well, it had the ring of justice about it, and it would work wonders for his reputation. It would silence those whispers of ‘poor old Arthur’ and those mock-sympathetic smiles whenever anybody mentioned blankets. It would do his spleen good, too.

He took a deep breath. ‘Will you take a note?’ he asked Dan McReady. ‘Just until the banks open tomorrow.’

Dan McReady shook his head. Slightly, but emphatically.

‘Well, that presents problems,’ said Arthur. ‘I’m not in the habit of carrying twenty-thousand dollars in gold around my waist, and quite strictly I’m not permitted to take personal loans out of the office safe.’

Dan McReady’s expression didn’t alter. ‘It’s up to you, sir,’ he repeated. ‘Whatever you want to do, it’s up to you.’

Arthur grimaced, and thought some more. ‘These blankets,’ he asked, ‘they’re pure wool, are they?’

‘Finest money can buy, sir.’

‘And they’re in good order?’

‘All things considered, sir, yes.’

Arthur hesitated a moment longer, but then he leaned across his desk and pinged a small brass bell. After a moment, Pudgett put his head around the door.

‘Pudgett, is the safe locked?’

‘Just this minute, sir.’

‘Well, I want you to open it up again, and bring me twenty-thousand dollars, exact, in gold dust. Then I want you to draw up a note for me, covering the company for that amount until the banks are open tomorrow.’

Pudgett blinked first at Arthur and then at Dan McReady, and then disappeared to do what he was told. Arthur hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his camel-coloured vest and gave Dan McReady a thin but quite triumphant smile.

Outside the Frémonts’ white-pillared house overlooking the southern curve of San Francisco Bay, the carriages of the Chivalry and the richer members of the Shovelry were drawn up in gleaming, jingling ranks. Their horses snuffled from time to time and shook their heads, while their coachmen sat on the low stone wall that bordered the driveway, playing dice and smoking pipes. It was a cold evening, and the waters of the Bay were a dull lilac colour, flecked with spray.