‘There’s one other thing. Unofficially, you are my eyes and ears in Madras, until such time as I move my headquarters down there when the war begins. Keep an eye on Lord Clive. I’m not sure that he has grasped the delicacy of the situation. I don’t want him provoking Tipoo or making any deals with him before we’re good and ready. At the same time, he must not be allowed to put the interests of the shareholders of the Company above the safety of the presidency. This war is going to be a costly affair. More than the Madras treasury can afford. But we cannot allow the likes of Josiah Webbe to undermine our military needs on the eve of war. So you will keep me informed of everything that happens in Madras. Use a code. Henry will provide you with a private cipher. Do you understand what’s required of you?’

‘Yes.’ Arthur nodded solemnly. ‘In polite circles it’s called spying.’>

‘Call it what you like, Arthur. I do not have the time to bandy euphemisms about. Our interests in India are facing the gravest threat. I’ll do whatever I must to ensure that we defeat Tipoo.’

Once again, the 33rd Foot took ship and the small flotilla of East Indiamen weighed anchor and slipped down the Hoogley into the Bay of Bengal before coasting south towards Madras. Unlike the placid waters of the Hoogley, the sea off the city of Madras was an unending expanse of surf rolling in from the ocean.There was no harbour, no breakwater, and the only means of landing men and equipment was by the strange local boats that looked more like rafts. Constructed from light timber, they were designed to bob above the waves rather than keep their passengers and cargo dry. It was an unnerving experience for many of the men of Arthur’s regiment, and he himself was filled with nervous excitement as he squatted on the reed-woven bed of the craft hired to take him ashore. The natives paddled furiously through the rolling waves, shouting out instructions to each other in their sing-song tongue as spray drenched those aboard. With expert skill they perfectly timed their approach to the glistening sand of the beach and, with a final flurry of powerful strokes at the paddles, the raft swept forward on the crest of a wave and crashed down on the shore with a jarring thud that knocked Arthur on to his knees. At once the boatmen were over the side and gripping the raft as they waited for the next wave to run it further up the beach, where it grounded solidly and Arthur and the other passengers could clamber ashore, grateful that the experience was over.