Rafael Sabatini

“ Albemarle broke off suddenly, and fell back before him. "What ails you man? You're white as a ghost. Ye're not ill?" And he lugged out a handkerchief that flung a reek of myrrh and ginger on the air, leaving Holles no single doubt of the thing his grace was fearing. Albemarle imagined that the plague which, as he had said, seemed bound up with this commission, was already besetting the man upon whom he now proposed to bestow it. The humour of it took Holles sharply, and his laugh rang out further to startle the Duke. ”

“ He paused, lost in a wonder that Albemarle did not share.
"Maybe, maybe," said his grace briskly. "But what matters now is that you are here, and that the command is yours if you still wish it. There is not even the fear of the plague to deter you, since you are a safe man now. It is an important office, as I told you, and so that you discharge its duties, as I know you will, it may prove but a stepping-stone to greater things. What do you say?"
"Say?" cried Holles, his cheeks flushed, his grey eyes gleaming. ”

“ Good! For I believe you to be the very man for the office." Albemarle stepped to his writing-table, selected from among some documents a parchment bearing a heavy seal, sat down, took up a pen, and wrote briskly for a few seconds. He dusted the writing with pounce, and proffered the document. "Here, then, is your commission. How soon can you sail?"
"In a month," said Holles promptly.
"A month!" Albemarle was taken aback. He frowned. "Why, man, you should be ready in a week." ”