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that. I do not condemn you.’
    ‘It is my own fault. Without the Angel’s presence, I am weak. I revert to wicked thoughts, and I am punished.’
    Vincent could not help the flare of irritation this brought him. ‘Is that so? And should my disease reoccur? Would that be because I am wicked? Will that also be a punishment?’
    ‘Captain, no! I would never for a moment think that!’
    ‘Then cease to think it of yourself. You’ve spent too long away from the Bright Man, Cornelius. That is all. Your body has replaced one dependence for another, and now it suffers as it used to suffer when you tried to forgo the opium. This has nothing to do with God. Your body is simply screaming at you for more of what it craves.’
    Behind him, Cornelius went deathly still. ‘No,’ he whispered eventually. ‘You are wrong. The Angel has made me a better man. Its presence has strengthened me. It hasstopped me from thinking of … I am no longer dependent on … I never fall , Captain! I am a better man ! I—’
    Ashamed, Vincent strode to the couch and grabbed his friend’s clammy hand. ‘Hush,’ he said. ‘Pay no heed to me. I am a fool. A head full of science and no heart at all.’
    Cornelius clung tight, a drowning man. He whispered, ‘I ache, Vincent!’
    ‘We will be home soon, cully.’
    ‘I am overcome.’
    ‘What of it? You have but to ask, and I would go out now and purchase a vial of whatever it is will make you better. I—’
    Cornelius groaned. ‘Stop. Stop before I say yes.’
    ‘I have known you through thick and thin, Cornelius. Whatever you perceive your failings to be, you have never failed me. You are a strong man. Rest easy in yourself. You will be home soon.’
    The grip on his hand only increased. ‘Don’t let me sleep.’
    Vincent straightened without speaking and, after a desperate moment, Cornelius released his hand, allowing him to return to the window. A cold breeze billowed the curtains, and Vincent inhaled it, closing his eyes. ‘It is good to be close to the sea again. I had forgot how alive it smells.’
    ‘Jolly times we had back then, eh, Captain? Under our old ragged flag.’
    ‘Jolly times,’ agreed Vincent.
    ‘We were great men for the cutlass and the axe,’ added Cornelius, beginning to smile. ‘Fierce coves.’
    Vincent grinned. ‘The scourge of Nevis. Lousy with gold and silver, and all the things a sword could fetch us.’
    ‘We were wicked.’
    ‘We were free!’ Vincent’s grin faded. ‘Though may chance we misremember even that.’ He put his hand to the pain that was dull but growing in his chest: a small, insidious foretaste of things to come.
    Cornelius straightened, suddenly alert. ‘You are in distress? But you’ve spent barely a week away! We’ve taken much longer trips before, and with no ill effect to your health.’
    ‘My last trip was a while ago, cully, and the creature was much stronger then. Its power is fading fast, and perhaps does not linger within us as it used to.’ He glanced wryly at Cornelius. ‘You should check the mirror. Your hair has begun to grey. Next, your fine face will line. Raquel will not recognise you on your return. She will cry, “Who is this old man in Cornelius’ clothes? Cast him out! Cast him out!”’
    The jest seemed to cause Cornelius a moment of pain.
    Vincent sighed. ‘I tease, cully. You do not look old.’
    Cornelius pulled himself upright on the sofa. ‘At home, we will both feel better,’ he said. ‘As soon as the Angel is restored, all will be mended.’
    Vincent grimaced at the word ‘angel’. He had never approved of Raquel and Cornelius’ beliefs. As ever, Cornelius paid no mind to his disapproval and Vincent let it go.
    ‘Speaking of superstitions,’ he said, ‘you still insist on this fool’s meet tomorrow?’ At Cornelius’ nod, Vincent huffed. ‘I thought you had left the throwing of bones and reading of entrails long behind you, cully. What makes you wish to consult the ether now, when we