“We found it. And we opened his desk.”
“And then?”
“Mr. Buckland found the orders. The usual linen envelope with the Admiralty seal. The envelope had been already opened.”
“Naturally,” said Lomax. “Well?”
“And now, I suppose,” said Clive, conscious of the anticlimax, “I suppose he’s reading them.”
“And we are none the wiser.”
There was a disappointed pause.
“Bless my soul!” said Carberry. “We’ve been at war since ‘93. Nearly ten years of it. D’ye still expect to know what lies in store for you? The West Indies today—Halifax tomorrow. We obey orders. Helmalee—let go and haul. A bellyful of grape or champagne in a captured flagship. Who cares? We draw our four shillings a day, rain or shine.”
“Mr. Carberry!” came the word from below. “Mr. Buckland passing the word for Mr. Carberry.”
“Bless my soul!” said Carberry again.