“Maybe, maybe,” said his grace briskly. “But what matters now is that you are here, and that the command is yours if you still wish it. There is not even the fear of the plague to deter you, since you are a safe man now. It is an important office, as I told you, and so that you discharge its duties, as I know you will, it may prove but a stepping-stone to greater things. What do you say?” “Say?” cried Holles, his cheeks flushed, his grey eyes gleaming. “Why, I give you thanks with all my heart.” “Then you accept it. Good! For I believe you to be the very man for the office.” Albemarle stepped to his writing-table, selected from among some documents a parchment bearing a heavy seal, sat down, took up a pen, and wrote briskly for a few seconds. He dusted the writing with pounce, and proffered the document. “Here, then, is your commission. How soon can you sail?” “In a month,” said Holles promptly. “A month!” Albemarle was taken aback. He frowned. “Why, man, you should be ready in a week.” “Myself, I could be ready in a day. But I mean to take this new-found tide of fortune at the flood, and....” But Albemarle interrupted him impatiently. “Don’t you realize, man, the time that has been already lost? For four months now this office has stood vacant.” “Which means that there’s a very competent lieutenant in charge. Let him continue yet awhile. Once I am there, I’ll speedily make up for lost time. That I can promise you. You see, it may be that I shall have a companion, who cannot possibly be ready in less than a month.” With an odd, reckless trust in the continuance of Fortune’s favour now, he boldly added: “You have said that I am the very man for the office. The government can wait a month, or you can appoint some one less likely to serve it as efficiently.” Albemarle smiled at him grimly across the table. “Ye’re very full of surprises to-day, Master Randal. And this one baffles me.” “Shall I explain it?” “It would be a condescension.” Holles poured out his tale, and Albemarle gave him a sympathetic hearing. When he had done, the Duke sighed and turned aside before replying, to examine the pages of a notebook at his elbow. “Well, well,” he said at length, having consulted an entry. “The _English Lass_ is fitting at Portsmouth for the voyage, and should be ready, I am informed, in two weeks from now. But there are ever delays at present, and it is odds that in no case would she be ready in less than three weeks. I’ll see to it that she is not ready under a month.” Impetuously the Colonel held out both hands to the Duke. “What a friend you are!” he cried. Albemarle wrung them hard. “You’re damnably like your father, God rest him!” said he. Then, almost brusquely: “Away with you now, and good-luck to you. I’ll not ask you to stay to see her grace at present, since you’re pressed. You shall kiss her hands before you sail. Be off!” Holles took his leave. At the door he suddenly checked, and, turning, displayed a rueful countenance.