The Captain of the Persephone, a merchant vessel in the English Channel, leant against the hand rail with relief. The January storms had been potent, but the Persephone had survived intact. They had encountered numerous pieces of ships, barrels, even masts float past.

"Man overboard!"

"What?"

"There's a man in the water to larboard, sir,"

"Well then get him out of the water for God's sake, Johnson, and pass the word for the doctor,"

"Aye, sir,"

The man was brought aboard, unconscious and dripping water. The seamen lay the stranger gently down on the deck. He was wearing a thick greatcoat and knee length boots. He had a young face tanned by the wind and weather, and long dark brown hair tied back with a black ribbon. The ship's sawbones, generously called a doctor, leant over him and opened up his greatcoat, revealing a Royal Navy officer's uniform.

"Well?"

"He's alive, sir,"

"Mr Johnson; food, water and rum for the young man. And berth him with the officers until we find out more about him,"

Just then the new arrival opened his eyes. They were startlingly blue, and currently bore a dazedly stunned expression. He coughed water groggily onto the deck.

Captain Layton bent over him.

"Welcome aboard HM dispatch vessel Persephone,"

"Thomas Pullings, First Lieutenant, HMS Surprise,"

"Well, Mr Pullings, lucky we found you,"

"Thank you, sir," winced the lieutenant, before dropping heavily back down on the deck again.

Layton raised an eyebrow at the doctor.

"Something's wrong, sir," he said, and added to a group of curious seamen, " Take him to the sick berth,"