It was cold, on the sea-front, bitterly so, even though inland had been warm earlier in the day. It was the wind from the sea, and the encroaching night, that made his wait so unpleasant. Being damp from sea-spray did not help, especially when he could feel himself shiver and his muscles begin to cramp. She had not arrived as yet, not that he had seen, and with no patrol set to come past for several more minutes, Mercedes stood, and stretched his muscles.
From his new vantage point he could see someone, a woman, waiting by the tavern. A whore would be inside on a night like this, or at least with a friend. He headed towards her, although in reality it seemed he was heading for the door of the tumble-down building, but stopped, hand on the door, just about to push it open. "Are you hoping to set-sail soon, Mademoiselle?" He asked, glancing over her. The olive skin and dark eyes marked her out from the usual pale, mousey French aristos. "The tide will change soon and no ships will leave till dawn."