As he swung round into Palace Street and idly glanced along the short road, Ramage saw there was a large carriage outside his house. The carriage was blue and gold, and the coat of arms on the open door was familiar. Hanson was bent almost double over some luggage.
He found himself walking faster. Windows upstairs were being flung open, as if to air the house and someone was looking out of one of them; a young woman with black hair and a small, heart-shaped face. She was waving wildly to him and calling in a language the passers-by could not understand, and now at last free of mutineers and politicians and bureaucrats, he was holding his sword in his left hand and his hat in his right, and his heart was beating hard as if he'd run all the way from the Admiralty. He almost knocked Hanson over as he ran into the house, only vaguely hearing the old man's hasty, "The family, sir, and the Marchesa - they've just arrived!"