Excerpt from The Hundred Days by Patrick O'Brian, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Stephen did indeed remember it: he had had his own battered second-hand copy rebound -- a first edition -- and he recalled that the binder had put the date of publication at the bottom of the spine: 1764.

As they all sat down again, Stephen, with his back to the light, looked at Mr Dee with discreet curiosity, as at one whose work had enriched his youth: Mr Dee's face, alas, showed little but discontent and weariness. He did not see fit to open the conversation, so after a hesitant glance or so William Kent it was who addressed himself to Stephen, saying, 'Well, sir, since you have been windbound for so long -- quite out of touch -- perhaps it would not be improper to give a brief sketch of the present situation?'

Stephen bowed, and leant towards him. Kent's summary was essentially the same as Lord Keith's; but Stephen, being unaffected by considerations of rank, tact, ignorance or particular respect, had no hesitation in asking questions, and he learned that the Netherlanders were by no means happy about the presence of Wellington's and Blutcher's armies; that the various rulers, commanders, and war offices were indeed at odds upon a very wide variety of subjects; that secrecy about plans, orders and appointed meetings scarcely existed in the Austrian army, with its many nationalities, rivalries and languages; and that as opposed to the effervescent sense of returning glory in France, there was a total lack of enthusiasm in many of the Allied regiments, and something worse, not far from mutiny, among the Russians, particularly the units from the wreck of divided Poland. Barclay de Tolly was doing all that a good soldier could do with his ill-equipped and discontented forces, but he could not make them move fast and they were already sixteen days behind the agreed timetable. They had an immense distance still to travel, and the rearguard had not yet even left its distant barracks. There was also mutual distrust, a fear of betrayal on the part of other members of the coalition or on that of some one or another of the many subject nations that made up the eastern powers.

Mr Dee coughed, and leaning forward he spoke for the first time, reminding Kent of an ancient Persian war in which a more numerous army made up of different nations had behaved in much the same way, being utterly shattered by the united Persian force on the banks of the Tigris: his account went on and on but as his voice was weak Stephen could not follow at all well -- he was ill-placed for listening -- and gradually he sank deeper and deeper into his own reflections, all necessarily of a kind as painful as could well be imagined. From time to time he was half aware that Mr Campbell was trying to lead them back to the matter in hand by mentioning Carebago, Spalato, Ragusa and other ports on the Adriatic shore -- if once the French were out they would represent a great danger -- few sea-officers reliable, if any . . .

He had some success, and in time Stephen was conscious that all three had in fact returned to naval matters; but much of his mind was still far down in the recent past when the voice of Kent pierced through with remarkable clarity. '... a very important point is that eventually one or another of these ships might protect or even carry the treasure.'

'The treasure, sir?'

He saw the three faces turned towards him and at almost the same moment he saw their expressions of surprise, even displeasure, turn to the grave, unobtrusive consideration that now surrounded him -- that must in decency surround him, like a pall, ever since his loss became public knowledge. It could not be otherwise: his presence was necessarily a constraint: levity, even good-fellowship, certainly mirth, were as much out of place as reproof or unkindness.

Kent cleared his throat, and the Admiral's secretary, excusing himself, withdrew. 'Yes, sir, the treasure,' said Kent; and after a slight pause, 'Mr Dee and I were discussing a scheme planned by Dumanoir and his friends -- a scheme to drive a Muslim wedge between the suspicious, slow-moving Austrian forces and the lingering Russians, preventing their junction and thus disrupting the planned meeting of the Allies on the Rhine.' Another pause. 'You will recall that Bonaparte professed himself a Muslim at the time of the Egyptian campaign?'

Reprinted by permission of Georges Borchardt, Inc. Copyright © 1998 by Patrick O'Brian. Published by WW Norton and Co. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from Georges Borchardt, Inc at 136 East 57^th Street, New York, NY 10022. All rights reserved.