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A rattling at the windows attracted their attention. The ostler was opening the shutters, and they could dimly see his face for a moment, but it was still quite dark outside. Hornblower looked at his watch; ten minutes to five, and he had ordered his boat to be at the Sally Port at five. Maria saw the gesture and looked over at him. There was a slight trembling of her lips, a slight moisture in her eyes, but she kept herself under control.

'I'll get my cloak,' she said quietly, and fled from the room. She was back in no time, her grey cloak round her, and her face shadowed in her hood; in her arms was Hornblower's heavy coat.

'You're leaving us now, sir?' piped the old woman coming into the coffee-room.

'Yes. Madam will settle the score when she returns,' said Hornblower; he fumbled out half a crown from his pocket and put it on the table.

'Thank you kindly, sir. And a good voyage, and prize money galore.' The sing-song tone reminded Hornblower that she must have seen naval officers by the hundreds leaving the George to go to sea--her memories must go back to Hawke and Boscawen.