The heat of the day in Kingston, Jamaica, was rather uncomfortable for those officers that duty demanded wear their uniforms as all times. Commodore Pellew was one of these officers. He ran a finger around his collar in an attempt to allow air to cool his body. Outside, where there was no respite from the sun, the atmosphere seemed rather airless. He sighed and clicked his heels together impatiently, unaccustomed as he was to being forced to wait for anything.

Doctor Clive opened a door to Pellew's right. "Commodore." He nodded to Edward, who returned the greeting and accepted offered entrance into the cooler indoors. The door shut behind him, he turned to Doctor Clive.

"Now then, my good man." He said. "Please would you enlighten me as to why I have been summoned from my quarters in such a secretive fashion in the heat of the day, and during such an important trial?"

He made to walk towards the 'wards'. Here many good men were being treated, with the arguable 'protection' of also being behind bars. However Doctor Clive arrested his attempt with one out-stretched arm.

"It is of a…delicate matter…sir." He struggled to find words. "I simply did not know who to inform of this…development." He led Commodore Pellew towards the very back of the prison ward, where one solitary cell stood alone. Pellew frowned when he registered the sheets hung around the cell rather like curtains; he had never known prisoners, however badly injured, to be allowed such privileges.

"I hardly know where to begin sir." Clive continued. "Or how best to tell you what I must." He faltered as he made to unlock the curtained cell. "It came as a shock to me sir."

He opened the door and pulled aside one of the sheets to allow Pellew passage into the cool and dimly lit room. Even the windows had been covered, making the room appear even darker than usual. Pellew's eyes took a while to adjust to the sudden darkness, the only light being from a single lamp beside the solitary bed.

Upon this bed lay a figure, wrapped in bandages and clearly sleeping. The face was peaceful, yet a pale one with the only colour being afford by a spattering of freckles across the nose and cheeks. Shoulder length ebony hair spread across the pillow, damp with perspiration and knotted.

"Mr. Clive!" Pellew turned sharply to the doctor. "I suggest that you give me a damn good reason why you are treating a woman in an officer's prison!" His face was contorted with anger and his eyes flashed in the darkness.

"Ad I was saying sir, I do not quite know where to begin." Clive shrugged. "But the woman lying before you was previously known to me, to all of us, as Midshipman Wellard aboard the Renown."

Pellew turned sharply to regard the woman lying upon the bed. He edged over towards her as if she were a canon about to explode with an unfired charge. He had met Midshipman Wellard once, as he recalled, and there was a definite resemblance between the man he remembered and the woman upon the bed.

"How?" He asked quietly as he felt Clive at his shoulder.

"I can only guess, she may be able to tell us more when she awakes." He replied. "I only realised yesterday sir, when she was bought here. He…She suffered a bullet wound to the chest in her last stand with Captain Sawyer, merely a graze, although the loss of blood and shock caused her to faint.

When I came to examine her I unbuttoned her shirt to find what looked like bandages upon his…her chest. I thought that they were merely from an old injury so undid them, only to find…" He blushed in a rather awkward fashion and swallowed, "to find that they were, in fact, containing her…err…"

"Yes Doctor, I think I gather." Pellew said kindly, saving his friend from any further embarrassment. "This is most extraordinary." He sank into a chair and rubbed his chin with one hand. "We must have her moved out of here, of course. It will not do to have a woman sharing quarters, prison quarters I might add, with military men. It is not that I do not trust the men, but I fear for her modesty. You shall have her moved tonight, Doctor, to quarters in the vicinity, preferably away from the prying eyes of her shipmates."

"No one else knows about this sir." The doctor interjected. "I considered telling Mister Hornblower, he seemed to have a strange friendship with this boy…girl, I mean. Was rather protective of him…her. Although I am quite sure that he had no idea of her true identity."

Pellew nodded. "I would agree Doctor. Lieutenant Hornblower was indeed unaware of this…situation. And he should remain ignorant to it for the time. He has quite enough to deal with without shouldering this burden."

"Will this be mentioned to the other officers judging his trial?" Doctor Clive asked. "I was under the impression that Midshipman Wellard was being considered to be called as a witness, although surely any information he…she gives, will be discredited after this…"

"I shall see to it that if any witness is called, it is not Mister Wellard." Pellew waved a dismissive hand. "His health will not permit it etcetera. This shall remain our secret for the time, Doctor. Mister Hornblower must not learn of this yet, he has no time to dwell upon such a situation in these troubled times. The same goes for any other officers upon the Renown. Mister Buckland, Kennedy, Bush, none of them."

"I understand sir." Doctor Clive replied. "I shall have Mister…Miss…the lady, moved this afternoon, whilst everyone else is preoccupied with the trial."

Pellew climbed to his feet and took one last look at the prone figure upon the sheets. "Ensure that she is comfortable and gets good care." He said. "Inform me of her whereabouts and her health, and do not mention this to Mister Hornblower."

"He visits regularly sir, his friend Archibald Kennedy is recovering here. If he asks the location of Mister Wellard what should I say?" The doctor asked, locking the door and pulling the sheets across so that the cell was once again concealed from prying eyes.

"I shall leave it to your discretion sir." Pellew replied. "Perhaps that Mister Wellard has been moved to other lodgings. If he is persistent then it is your decision whether a…harsher lie is told. After all, the Mister Wellard that he knew is truly dead."

The walked side by side to the door that led to the harsh sunlit street. Pellew stopped by one cell that housed to beds, and two men. "How are the men?" He asked.

"Lieutenant Bush will recover." Clive confirmed. "A nasty slice to the chest, but no lasting damage."

"And Mister Kennedy?" Pellew asked, his often piercing gaze now turned upon the Doctor.

Doctor Clive could not meet his stare. "It is early days yet." He replied evasively, and then gave in to Pellew's calculating look. "He is badly injured Edward. Severe bleeding, some of it internal, and the wound is infected. He is feverish. I do not hold much hope for him."

"He is strong." Pellew muttered, as if it automatically meant that Archie would survive. "He is a good man."

"That does not entitle him to recover." Clive said bitterly. "I have seen many a good and strong man die in my care, while the weakest and evil survive. You must have seen such sights, Commodore. Life is rarely 'just' or 'lawful'. In the end you have to accept that your most pathetic member of the crew may survive a near fatal shot, whilst the best of lieutenants dies of an insect bite." There was a sour tone in Clive's voice that suggested he found this fact of life to be an injustice.

"I understand." Pellew said stiffly. "I understand as well as you do, Doctor. I was merely commenting that Mister Kennedy is made of stronger substance than your average patient. He survived month upon month in a Spanish prison. Do not underestimate him."

Clive nodded and showed the Commodore out. He did not wish to inform the Captain that those months in jail had left Archie weaker than others knew, and that already the man had suffered from two terrible fits that left him struggling for breath. Clive knew that he was dying, and he held suspicions that Archie realised this fact too. Yet like the brave lieutenant that he was he said nothing, and never complained of the pain he suffered.

Pellew made his way towards the court house, his mind racing. He could not tell Horatio about Wellard yet, he could only imagine the turmoil that this would plunge the officer into, full of doubts about his own observations and judgements upon the realisation that he had not realised that his Midshipman was not 'genuine'. But how to tell Horatio that Midshipman Wellard was, in fact, a girl younger than him? Pellew could not answer this question at this stage.