They found it all under the tarpaulins, in the lantern light, while the galley lay alongside: the iron straps and the bolts and the long pins, forty pair, greased and wrapped in sacking; the four great copper boilers, far too large for any crew's galley; the padlocks in a keg; and, at the bottom, coiled and greased and terrible, a length of chain with rings set into it at intervals the width of a man's shoulders.
Jory looked at that, and then he looked away, and found that Lady Ormerod was looking away too, out at the dark sea, with her hood still down and the lantern hanging forgotten at her side.
*
They boarded the Constant at first light.
Madoc went up her side first, with four men and a warrant from Mr. Trevisa signed at two in the morning in his nightcap, and Lusty the constable puffing after. Jory and Lady Ormerod came after them. The crew stood about the deck in the grey dawn with sullen, uneasy faces, and Polgrave stood by the mainmast with his arms folded, and every man there had his eyes on the quarter-deck, where Captain Calloway stood by his cabin hatch in his good blue coat with a canvas bag in his hand, weighted at the bottom with something round.
He was at the rail before anyone could reach him. He had the bag out over the water.
Polgrave did not run. He walked across the deck to the rail, not fast, and put his great hand round the captain's wrist, and held it there.
"No, sir," he said. Jory saw it plainly. "Not this one. Not this time."
The two men stood there at the rail for what seemed a long while, with the bag swinging over the grey water. Then Calloway's fingers opened, not outward but in, and the bag dropped onto the deck at his feet with a thump that Jory felt through his boots.
Madoc picked it up. Inside, wrapped in oilskin, were a set of Portuguese ship's papers in the name of the *Constância* of Lisbon, a bill of sale, and a letter of instructions in a clear clerkly hand which was not the captain's, and which bore no signature at all.
Lusty took the captain by the arm. Calloway did not resist. He stood very upright in the grey light with his hat on and looked across the deck, not at Madoc, not at Lady Ormerod, but at Jory.