Marcos is the latest example of this phenomenon. Earlier this year its Dutch owner, Eurotech, pulled the plug on the British end of the operation and retreated to Holland to continue to build and service the race cars. Now Marcos's original owner and founder, Jem Marsh, backed by wealthy American Tony Stelliga, is resurrecting the brand in Britain.

The new company is called Marcos Engineering Inc, though it's based at the old works in Westbury, Wiltshire, and it has a new model, the Marcasite TS250.

Although the Marcasite (named after a precious metal) is a new design, its overall outline owes much to Marcos models of old and it uses the same basic chassis, bought as part of a package of assets when the previous company was closed down. That said, the Marcasite is a more cohesive-looking beast than, say, the old Mantis, which suffered from an awkwardly kinked and droopy rear end, and the mid-tone blue of our test car does the shape few favours, effectively hiding some of its more interesting curves - we've seen a silver one that makes the most of the car's shape.

Like most of the Brit-pack specialist sports car makers, Marcos once relied on the trusty Rover V8, and in common with the herd has now turned to Ford. Though shy of a couple of cylinders compared with the old Rover lump, the 2.5-litre Duratec V6 is a fair substitute, offering similar power but having the advantage of being fully emissions compliant. It doesn't sound as rich and bassy, but that's progress for you.

Marcos has made its own contribution to the induction system with the result that the engine produces 180bhp and 162lb ft of torque, sufficient to propel the 1025g glassfibre-bodied Marcasite from standstill to 60mph in a claimed 5.9sec. Top speed, if you're in the mood or the right place, is 142mph.

The Marcasite isn't short of on-paper promise, but its delivery of expectations is patchy. It certainly feels the part. You sit comfortably just above floor level, the fixed seats enveloping you all the way up to the base of your neck, the pedal box propelled on electric motors to come out to meet your feet. The door trim is very tight to your right shoulder, your left caressed by the transmission tunnel, and the top of the facia and the bulges in the bonnet are prominent in your forward vision; in other words, there's no mistaking that you're in a sports car.

In amongst the facia's chic machined aluminium trim you expect to find a starter button, so having to turn a key is a little disappointing. Nothing wrong with the sound as the Marcasite erupts into life - it may not ooze the aural sex appeal of a rumbly old V8, but there's sufficient allure to get you grinning in anticipation.
Lay your forearm along the tunnel and chuddink the stubby lever forward into first - the gearchange is short of throw and so robust of movement you're tempted to call it stiff - and you're off, briskly and smoothly.

Unless your ultimate destination lies in a perfectly straight line, you'll quickly notice that the steering is a bit odd. Around the centre it's very heavy to the point of stodginess but after a quarter turn of lock in either direction it suddenly becomes curiously light and lifeless. There's grip aplenty from the Marcasite's 215/40 ZR17 Avons, but it'll be many a mile before you feel confident enough to exploit it fully; even once you've learned how to direct the car accurately, the point where the steering goes from heavy to light induces a sensation akin to roll oversteer, which can be unnerving.
Marsh talks of the Marcasite fulfilling the role of traditional grand tourer (its boot will consume two golf bags) rather than that of hyper roadster, and the rest of its dynamics seem to fall into line with this brief. Ride quality is gentle without being mushy and performance, despite what the spec sheet and exhaust and induction notes might suggest, is rapid not rabid. You make 'good progress' in the Marcasite, you don't howl off manically into the sunset.

The Marcasite is reasonably well-appointed and includes some unexpected goodies such as adjustable dampers and ride height, a limited slip diff, electric windows and mirrors, and even a heated windscreen, but if sir wants full leather trim or air-conditioning, they're an extra ΂£1900 apiece. That's on top of the ΂£38,750 base price. And that puts the Marcasite into Boxster S territory, a threatening badland for any low-volume producer.

Marcos isn't being over-ambitious; first year production is set at 50 units, sensibly modest and probably an accurate reflection of the number of people who've always promised themselves a Marcos. Until the steering is sorted (a task now in hand, we're told) and the Marcasite can boast some unique feature or talent to wow the crowds, conquest sales are likely to be somewhat harder to come by.