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a studied charm which could derive only from years of experience. Fiona Sinclair was her name as printed in the programme. He certainly could not remember that name but he knew, of course, that stage names are often assumed. For the whole of Act I he puzzled his brain without result. He must see her and talk to her but it was vital that they should not meet as strangers. There must have been men enough seeking to make her acquaintance and she would know very well how to brush them off. Where had he seen her before? Light suddenly dawned in the course of Act II. By all the social conventions of the day her costume as cabin boy was unthinkably indecent, not because her shirt was open at the front, as it chanced to be, but because her white linen trousers were a size too small and revealed the curves of all that they were meant to conceal. She was barefoot, too, and her feet were unbelievably shapely and white. It was this provocative appearance which suddenly brought back total recollection. She had played a similar part in a play called
The Poor Sailor
presented at the theatre in Guernsey back in about 1794. She and another girl, both clad as seamen for theatrical purposes, had appeared on the quayside in St Peter Port in a frolic done for a bet.
    Watching her on stage, and seeing no one else—not even Mrs Siddons herself—he realised that her part in Act II wasquite needless. There was no real point in her masquerading as a cabin boy, no object in her boarding the cutter. Her part had been written in solely to display her breath-taking figure. How old would she be? She looked about eighteen but that would seem to have been her age nearly seven years ago. She must now be twenty-four at least … and now it was the end of the play. The Tories had won the Boughtborough election to the accompaniment of loud jeers from the Whig members of the audience. Colonel and Mrs Staywell had given their consent to the marriage of their only daughter to Lieutenant Mainbrace. Sir John Sitting had agreed to secure the Lieutenant’s promotion, having plenty of influence to ensure this. All came forward to take their bow and then the audience began to leave.
    â€œShall we go backstage?” Delancey heard himself saying. “I must beg the stage manager to amend some of his mistakes in seamanship. The scene in Act II could be easily improved and the seamen might appear to work with a purpose.” The others agreed with some reluctance and Delancey led the way to the stage door. They were finally admitted, after a bribe to the doorman, and found themselves moving with difficulty among a tangle of scenery, furniture, and props. Some members of the cast were still on stage, discussing some point with the stage manager, Mr Ward. When they paused for breath, Delancey begged to introduce himself as a naval officer. “Pray forgive my seeming officious, but there are some ways in which your business on stage could be made more true to life. Might I call sometime tomorrow so as to offer what help I can?”
    â€œReally, sir,” said Mr Ward, “I am vastly obliged to you. We shall be rehearsing another play during the morning but willbe on stage again at two and will be glad indeed of your professional advice. The stage will be rigged as for Act II and all will be present who appear in the Act.”
    â€œVery well, sir,” replied Delancey, “I shall be happy to wait on you then. The changes I’ll advise are all quite small in themselves but should serve to make the scene more authentic.”
    â€œI shall hope then to see more naval men in the audience.”
    Delancey and his friends were just about to take their leave when there was the sound of running feet and Fiona Sinclair fairly scampered on stage, still dressed as a cabin boy. The sight of the visitors checked whatever it was she had to say and she blushed prettily while Mr Ward performed the introductions.
    â€œI beg to present Captain