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stammered: “But where did all this – this treasure – come from?”
    “Oh, Mr Yorke brought it in to start us off,” Heffer said nonchalantly, knowing this was the chance to get his own back after a lifetime of slights, sneers, snubs and humbling jokes from his superiors.
    “But – I mean, where did Mr Yorke get all this wealth?”
    “He’s a wealthy man,” Heffer said. “He’ll be here soon, if he received your message, so you can ask him yourself.”
    And that, Heffer told himself, means I’ve avoided the responsibility of revealing any more of Mr Yorke’s business.
    “This man Yorke,” Luce persisted, “isn’t he just a pirate?”
    Heffer shrugged his narrow shoulders and licked his large and protruding teeth, which had a distressing tendency to dry so that the inside of his mouth stuck on them, giving him the appearance of a grinning ewe. “He’s saved the island from starving – that was at the beginning. Then he captured Santiago and took what we needed of the Spaniards’ great guns – they’re the ones we have out there in our batteries. Then he brought in all the gold and silver and suchlike. Some people might call him a pirate: others might regard him as lord of the manor. Frankly, sir, I don’t know what you’d call such a benefactor…” He had put just enough emphasis on the “you’d” that Luce glanced up and, to distract attention from the deep flush spreading over his face, said abruptly: “You’d better give me that list.”
    But Heffer was fast learning of the perquisites of power and he politely shook his head. “This is my own copy, sir; I’ll have another one drawn up for you.”
     
    As Ned and Thomas walked the few yards from the jetty to what was always referred to as “Heffer’s place” but which looked as if it was to become (temporarily at least) Government House, Thomas said: “Y’know, Ned, it seems only yesterday that we were rescuing old Heffer from his mutinous colonels.”
    “It wasn’t so long ago, either – I noticed their bodies are still hanging in chains from the gibbets at the end of the Palisades.”
    “No, I suppose it wasn’t. My ears still ring from the pistol shots in that damned little office of his.”
    “‘His office’, my dear bishop, is likely to be the island’s new council chamber.”
    “Who is this fellow Luce?” Thomas asked. “I’ve never heard of him.”
    “Aurelia heard somewhere that he was knighted for this job.”
    “Where’s he been for the last few years?” Thomas asked shrewdly.
    Ned shrugged his shoulders. “With the King in exile? Compounding with the Roundheads? Pouring the Protector’s ale? Hiding in the woodshed? Who knows – twelve years is a long time. Presumably he wasn’t a very naughty boy because he’s been given this job.”
    “That doesn’t follow,” Thomas was doubtful. “General Monck – sorry, the new Duke of Albemarle – persuaded the King to grant a general amnesty for all but the very worst scoundrels… This fellow might be a splendid Royalist who fought bravely for the King, but he might equally well be a thoroughly wretched scoundrel who compounded his way out of trouble.”
    “We’ll soon see,” Ned said cheerfully. “One look at Heffer’s face will tell all: he’s already spent hours with the man, handing over the reins.”
    “On the other hand, remember this fellow Luce has also spent hours listening to Heffer,” Thomas said with a chuckle. “They’re probably both very confused! By the way, who else is summoned to the presence?”
    “Damned if I know. I suspect we’re the first two lambs; the tradesmen will follow later.”
    By now the two men had reached the house, acknowledged the salute of the sentry (whose uniform had been hurriedly modified to disguise its Roundhead origins), and been handed over to an elegantly dressed man of about thirty, bewigged and twirling a gold-topped cane like a bandmaster, and who had introduced himself as “William Hamilton, the