Ramage

Chapter 14

THE GULLS increased their frantic mewing and closed in on the ship, waiting for the cook's mate to throw scraps over the side. With all her canvas furled or clewed up, the Lively slowly lost way, and at a signal from Dawlish an anchor splashed into the water and the cable snaked out through the hawsehole, smoking as friction singed the fibres of the rope.

While the prize brig anchored close by, Lord Probus's barge was hoisted over the side and his bargemen, rigged in red jer­seys and black straw hats, rowed him briskly across to report on board the 74-gun Trumpeter, whose captain was the senior officer present in Bastia. Ramage noted with relief that Admiral Goddard must be at sea. There were two other line-of-battle ships and four frigates in the anchorage.

One of the Lively's quarter boats was lowered and the bosun climbed down into it, to be rowed round the ship to make sure all the yards were squared: that they were all hanging absolutely horizontally.

Already the first of the bumboats was putting off from the quays laden with women, fruit and wine: the first two no doubt overripe and all three too expensive. Dawlish saw them coming and told some Marines the boats were not to approach within twenty-five yards.

'Can't trust these Corsicans,' he commented to Ramage. "Half are sympathetic to the French and waiting for them to arrive; the other half are so scared we'll be thrown out that they daren't help us for fear of reprisals later. But they're all united in one thing - cheating us.'

'Corsican bumboatmen aren't unique in that.'

'No, I mean the people generally. I wouldn't like to be the Viceroy: old Sir Gilbert must have a deal of patience to handle them. And the Army - you know, we've only about 1,500 soldiers to defend this place.'

'Probably enough to defend the port itself.’

'Yes, I suppose so. How the devil did we ever get landed with Corsica in the first place?' asked Dawlish.

'Well,' said Ramage, 'about three years ago this fellow Paoli led the Corsicans in revolt against the French, threw them out, and asked for British protection. The Government sent out a Viceroy - Sir Gilbert. But I don't think it's much of a success: Paoli and Sir Gilbert don't agree now, and Paoli's quarrelled with his own people. If you've got two Corsicans, you've got two parties on your hands. And Paoli's an old and sick man.'

'I don't see how Bonaparte can possibly invade,' said Daw­lish. 'We've searched for transports in every anchorage from Elba to Argentario, and captured or sunk the few we found. They do say, though, that all manner of privateers are sneaking over at night from the mainland with Corsican revolution­aries - on a cash basis, a couple of dozen or so at a time. Some of the prisoners we took in the brig said the French were so sick and tired of the Corsicans in Leghorn they're giving them arms and cash and encouraging 'em to go and liberate Corsica just to get rid of 'em. The French reckon they've nothing to lose: if we capture 'em at sea it means fewer causing trouble in Leghorn, and if they manage to land - well, it's trouble for us.'

Dawlish suddenly put his telescope to his eye. 'Midship­man! Look alive there! The Trumpeter's hoisting a signal.'

A boy scurried to the bulwarks, steadying his telescope against one of the shrouds.

'Four-oh-six,' he called out. 'That's us, sir!'

'Oh, for God's sake, boy!'

'Two-one-four - that's for a lieutenant from ships of the fleet, or ships pointed out, to come on board. Then - Christ! That's funny!'

‘What's funny, boy?'

'Next hoist is number eight-oh-eight, sir: a ship, but I don't know her. I'll look in the list.'

'It's all right,' said Ramage, 'that was the Sibella’s num­ber. They want me. Acknowledge it, Jack, and let me have a boat, please. By the way, who commands the Trumpeter now?'

'Croucher, I'm afraid; one of Goddard's pets.'

'And I can see more than five post captains.' Ramage waved a hand to indicate the warships at anchor.

Dawlish looked puzzled.

'You've forgotten the Courts Martial Statutes,’ said Ram­age. 'Remember - "If any five or more of His Majesty's ships or vessels of war shall happen to meet together in foreign parts ... it shall be lawful for the senior officer ... to hold courts martial and preside thereat..."'

'Oh - of course; so Croucher can...'

'Exactly - and will, no doubt. Can you lend me a hat and sword?'

The 74-gun Trumpeter was very large compared with the Lively, and her shiny paintwork and gilding showed Captain Croucher was rich enough to dip deeply into his own purse to keep her looking smart, since the Navy Board's issue of paint was meagre - so meagre, Ramage recalled, as the boat's bow­man hooked on and waited for him to climb on board, that one captain was reputed to have asked the Board which side of his ship he should paint with it.

Ramage scrambled up the thick battens forming narrow steps on the ship's side and, saluting the quarter-deck, asked the neatly-dressed lieutenant at the gangway to be taken to the captain.

'Ramage, isn't it?' the lieutenant asked disdainfully.

Ramage glanced at the spotty face and then slowly looked him up and down. A few months over twenty years old – the minimum age for a lieutenant — with very little brain but a great deal of influence to ensure rapid promotion. The spotty face blushed, and Ramage knew its owner guessed his thoughts.

'This way,' he said hurriedly, 'Captain Croucher and Lord Probus are waiting for you.'

Captain Croucher's quarters were vaster than Lord Probus's: more headroom, so that it was possible to stand upright in the great cabin, and more furniture. Too much, in fact, and too much silverware on display.

Croucher was painfully thin. His uniform was elegantly cut and immaculately pressed, but all his tailor's skill could not disguise the fact that Nature had sold him short; as far as flesh was concerned, Croucher had been given 'Purser's measure', in other words only fourteen ounces to the pound.

'Come in, Ramage,' he said as the lieutenant announced him.

Ramage, who had never met Croucher before, almost laughed when he saw the truth in the man's punning nickname, 'The Rake'. The eyes were sunk deep in the skull while the bone of the forehead protruded above them so that each eye looked like some evil serpent glaring out from under a ledge in a rock. The man's mouth was a label which revealed meanness, weakness and viciousness - three constant bed-fellows, thought Ramage. The hands were like claws, attached to the body by wrists as thin as broom handles.

Probus was standing with his back to the stern lights so that his face was in shadow and he looked uncomfortable, as if dragged into something which he could not avoid but which embarrassed him.

'Now, Ramage, I want an account of your proceedings,' said Croucher. His voice was high-pitched and querulous, exactly suited to the mouth.

'In writing, sir, or verbally?'

'Verbally, man, verbally: I've a copy of your report.'

'There's nothing more to say than that, sir.'

'Are you sure?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Well, then, what about this?' asked Croucher, picking up several sheets of paper from his desk. 'What about this, eh?'

'He can hardly know what that is,' Probus interposed quickly.

'Well, I can soon enlighten him; this, young man, is a com­plaint, an accusation - a charge, in fact - by Count Pisano, that you are a coward: that you deliberately abandoned his wounded cousin to the French. What have you to say to that?'

'Nothing, sir.'

'Nothing? Nothing? You admit you are a coward?'

'No, sir: I meant I've nothing to say about Count Pisano's accusations. Does he say he knows for certain his cousin was wounded and not dead?'

'Well - hmm...' Croucher glanced over the pages. 'Well, he doesn't say so in as many words.'

'I see, sir.'

'Don't be so deuced offhand, Ramage,' Croucher snapped, and added with a sneer, 'it's not the first time one of your family's been involved over the Fifteenth Article, and now perhaps even the Tenth...'

The Fifteenth Article of War laid down the punishment for 'every person in or belonging to the Fleet’ who might surrender one of the King's ships 'cowardly or treacherously to the enemy’; while the Tenth dealt with anyone who 'shall treacher­ously or cowardly yield or cry for quarter'.

Croucher's remark was so insulting that Probus stiffened, but Ramage said quietly:

'You'll forgive me for saying the Twenty-second Article prevents me from replying, sir.'

Croucher flushed: the Twenty-second Article, among other things, forbade anyone from drawing, or offering to draw, a weapon against a superior officer: one that prevented a dis­gruntled junior officer from challenging a senior officer to a duel.

'You're too glib, young man; much too glib. Now, are you not the senior surviving officer of the Sibella?’

‘Yes, sir.'

'Then the day after tomorrow, Thursday, you will be brought to trial in the normal way so we can inquire into the cause and circumstances of her loss.'

'Aye aye, sir.'

As the boat took Ramage back to the Lively, he was sur­prised to find he felt reasonably cheerful. Now the trial was imminent, now he'd seen the enemy himself, the prospect seemed less frightening. Obviously Admiral Goddard had received a report from the Sibella’s Bosun when the three boats arrived in Bastia, and had left instructions with Croucher telling him what to do when Ramage arrived. Little did Goddard dream that Croucher would have such an easy task...

Next morning, Wednesday, as a prisoner at large, Ramage had no duties in the ship, which seemed curiously empty now the girl and her cousin had been taken on shore to lodge at the Viceroy's house. No doubt, Ramage thought bitterly, Sir Gilbert and Lady Elliot were hearing for the tenth time Pisano's wretched story. Well, Sir Gilbert was a hard-headed Scot who'd known the Ramage family for years. Would he be shocked?

Late that afternoon a boat from the Trumpeter arrived alongside the Lively and a lieutenant delivered several sealed documents, and after the receipts had been signed went on to visit each of the other ships in the harbour. A few minutes later Lord Probus's clerk brought Ramage a bulky letter addressed to him.

Written on board the Trumpeter, dated a day earlier, and signed by someone calling himself 'Deputy Judge Advocate upon the occasion' (presumably her purser) the letter said:

'Captain Aloysius Croucher, commanding officer of His Majesty's ship Trumpeter and senior officer of His Majesty's ships and vessels present at Bastia, having directed the assembly of a court martial to inquire into the cause and circumstances of the loss of His Majesty's late frigate Sibella, lately under your command, and try yourself as the sole surviving officer for your conduct so far as it may relate to the loss of the said ship; and it being intended that I shall act as deputy judge advocate at the said court martial, which is to be held on board the Trumpeter, Thursday, the 15th instant, at eight o'clock in the morning; I send you herewith a copy of the order. ... also copies of the papers referred to in the order, and am to desire you will be pleased to transmit me a list of such persons as you may think proper to call to give evidence in your favour, that they may be summoned to attend accordingly.'

The letter was signed "Horace Barrow". Ramage glanced at the enclosed documents. One was a copy of Croucher's order appointing Barrow the Deputy Judge Advocate; the second was the order for the trial; the third a copy of Pisano's letter to Lord Probus; the fourth a copy of Ramage's own report, and the last told him that the Sibella's Boatswain and Carpen­ter's Mate would be called as witnesses in support of the charge.

Ramage sensed that something strange was going on: why was Pisano's letter, which had nothing to do with the loss of the Sibella, enclosed among the 'papers referred to' in Croucher's order? Ramage guessed Croucher wanted to get the letter written into the minutes of the trial so that the Admiralty would read it, and this was the only way of doing it. The legality was doubtful; but Ramage guessed the letter was bound to come out in the open some time, so it might as well be now.

He pulled out his watch: he had just eighteen hours to find witnesses and draw up his defence....

He'd need the Bosun, who was next in seniority and the best man to give evidence about the Sibella's casualties; the Carpenter's Mate for her condition at the time he abandoned her; and Jackson, since he was with Ramage for most of the brief period of his command. And the boy who brought the message telling him that he was in command. And the two sea­men who helped him up to the quarter-deck: he couldn't remember their names, but Jackson would.

Ramage walked over to the master's mate, who was acting as officer of the watch now that the Lively was at anchor -Probus was not one of the fussy captains who insisted lieutenants stood watches while in harbour - and asked him to pass the word for Jackson, but before the master's mate had time to open his mouth Ramage heard Lord Probus's cox'n yelling down the forehatch for him. What did Probus want with Jack­son?

'Belay that,' Ramage said. 'I'll wait till the Captain's seen him.'

He did not have to wait long: within three or four minutes of Jackson going down to the Captain's cabin, he came up again, looking for Ramage. He hurried over, saluted and said in an aggrieved voice, 'I've just received orders from the Captain, sir.'

'Well, he's every right to give you orders.'

'I know, sir; but I'm to take our lads over to the Topaze, sir: we're all being transferred to her at once, on Captain Croucher's orders.'

Ramage glanced over at the little black-hulled Topaze. As a sloop she was small enough to be commanded by a lieutenant or a commander - an officer too junior to sit at his court martial. He saw that the boat from the Trumpeter had just left her, having presumably delivered orders from Croucher to her commanding officer.

Jackson, who had followed his gaze, suddenly exclaimed: 'Look - she's getting ready to sail, sir.'

Certainly there was a scurry of men bending on headsails. Ramage felt his stomach knot into a spasm of fear as he realized what Croucher was doing....

The Trumpeter's lieutenant had brought over the order for the trial and the request for Ramage's list of witnesses - but at the same time had delivered to Probus an order to send all the Sibellas to the Topaze at once. And the Topaze's commanding officer had obviously just received orders to sail as soon as the Sibellas were on board....

So by the time Ramage's list of witnesses arrived in the Trumpeter, the Topaze would have gone and the Deputy Judge Advocate would be able to reply, quite truthfully, that many of the witnesses he requested were not in port.

Jackson must have sensed Ramage's sudden tension.

'Anything wrong, sir?' he asked anxiously.

‘Everything,' Ramage said bitterly. 'Tomorrow I stand my trial on a charge of cowardice and, apart from the Bosun and Carpenter's Mate, I won't have a single witness in my defence.'

'Cowardice?' Jackson ejaculated. 'How's that, sir? Isn't it just the normal loss-of-ship inquiry?'

Ramage realized that for discipline's sake he had no business discussing the matter with Jackson; but since Jackson would be at sea tomorrow, it didn't matter much.

'Yes, cowardice: at least, I think they'll bring it in.'

'But it's not in the actual charge, is it, sir?'

‘No - it's the usual wording.'

'But... but how the devil can they bring in cowardice, sir, if you'll pardon me for asking?'

'Easy enough,' Ramage said sourly. 'I've been accused in writing by Count Pisano.'

‘Him! Christ, for—'

'Jackson: I've been very indiscreet in telling you all this. Now, quickly, give me some names - the boy the Bosun sent down when I was knocked out, and the two men who helped me up on deck.'

'Can't remember, sir. But some of the lads will: I'll ask 'em while we're getting ready to go over to the Topaze, sir.'

Jackson saluted and went forward. The American had an odd expression on his face: was it a look of triumph? Ramage felt a spasm of fear: in the past few days he'd often made indiscreet comments to Jackson, and - although Croucher wouldn't know it from Ramage's own report - the American was the only possible witness who was in a good position, if he was prepared to tell lies, to back up Pisano's charge of cowardice...

Trapped, trapped, trapped! For a moment he felt pure panic as he realized that unless Croucher had kept back some of the other Sibellas who had reached Bastia in the Bosun's party, the only other witness at the trial, apart from the Bosun and Carpenter's Mate, would also be the most influential - Pisano. Gianna, if she was well enough to attend, would at worst back her cousin or, at best, not contradict him.

Jackson came back. 'The two men were Patrick O'Connor and John Higgins, sir; and tie boy was Adam Brenton.'

'Thank you,' Ramage said and ran down to the gunroom shouting to the steward to bring pen, ink and paper.

Hurriedly he scribbled a letter to the Deputy Judge Advo­cate requesting the men named in the attached list to be called as witnesses, and signed it. On a second sheet of paper he wrote the names of the Bosun, Carpenter's Mate, the men Jack­son had just mentioned, and rounded the list off with Jackson and Smith. Then, as an afterthought, he added a postscript to his letter saying he would forward a further list as soon as he could see the Sibella’s muster book and refresh his memory.

He folded the letter and list together - there was no time for a seal - and ran up on deck again.

Dawlish was by the gangway where Jackson was mustering the six Sibellas, with their hammocks and new seabags, which were pitifully empty since they had been able to buy only a few articles from the purser that morning.

'Jack - can you send this letter across to the Trumpeter at once: it's urgent?'

'Certainly - there's a boat from the Topaze alongside: she can deliver it on her way back.'

'No, Jack: can you send one of our own boats with it?'

Dawlish realized there must be a good reason for Ramage's insistence.

'Bosun's Mate! Muster the duty boat's crew. Here,' he called to a midshipman, 'take the duty boat and deliver this to the' - he paused and glanced at the letter - 'to the Deputy Judge Advocate in the Trumpeter!

As Jackson began calling out the names of the Sibellas from a list he was holding, Dawlish shouted forward, 'Look alive, there! I don't see the duty boat's crew! Bosun's Mate, hurry those men aft!'

Ramage realized Probus had come up the companionway and was walking towards them.

'What do you want a boat for?' he asked Dawlish. 'The Topaze is sending a boat for these men.'

'I know, sir, it's already alongside. Mr Ramage wants a letter delivered to the Trumpeter!

'Well, that can wait, can't it, Ramage? I've some papers to send over later on.'

'It's my list of witnesses, sir.'

‘Your what?’'

'List of witnesses.'

‘Have you been asleep?'

‘Well, sir, I had the charge delivered to me only ten minutes ago.'

'Ten minutes! Didn't you get it yesterday?'

'No, sir. It came in the last boat from the Trumpeter: the same one that brought the orders for these men.' Ramage gestured towards the Sibellas.

'All right then, carry on then, Dawlish.'

Probus walked away, and a few moments later Ramage saw him looking with his telescope first at the Trumpeter and then at the Topaze. After a moment's glance at the sloop, Probus called:

'Midshipman! What's that the sloop's flying?'

Ramage saw the Topaze had just hoisted a wheft at the ensign staff - a signal a ship made for her boats to return, and usually a warning that she was about to saiL

'Wheft, sir,' called the midshipmaa 'Boats to return.'

'Mr Dawlish,' said Probus, 'send those men off smartly. Mr Ramage, come over here!'

As soon as Ramage joined him, Probus asked: 'Did you know she was sailing?'

'We saw them bending on headsails a few minutes ago.'

‘Why didn't you come and tell me ?'

Ramage did not answer: it hadn't occurred to him.

'So you'll lose a lot of your witnesses?'

Ramage said nothing: Probus could work it out for him­self.

Finally Probus shut his telescope with a vicious snap, turned as if to say something to Ramage, but apparently thought better of it.

Just at that moment Ramage saw the Sibellas lowering their gear into the boat. Jackson came over towards Probus, as if to make his report. But instead of stopping at a respectful distance and saluting, the American came straight up to him, gave the startled captain a push in the chest, and said in a con­versational tone of voice, 'You're in the bloody way.'

Probus was too dumbfounded to react at once, and Jackson then gave Ramage a push. 'You, too!'

Probus recovered first and, his face flushed with anger, turned to Ramage: 'Is this man drunk, or mad?'

'God knows, sir!'

' "Insolence" and probably "Striking a superior officer", sir,' said Jackson. 'I ought to be arrested.'

'You're damned right!' Probus said heatedly. 'Hey, Master-at-Arms! Pass the word for the Master-at-Arms!'

While the Captain turned to repeat the order to Dawlish, Jackson gave Ramage a deliberate wink.

Realizing the significance of what Jackson had done, Ramage stared down at the deck, ashamed of his earlier doubts.

Probus waited impatiently for the Master-at-Arms, bang­ing the telescope against his leg, and finally strode to the quarter-deck rail, bawling to Dawlish.

Ramage seized the opportunity to hiss at Jackson: ‘You fool - they can hang you, for this!'

‘Yes, but if I'm under arrest I can't sail in the Topaze!’

'But—'

'Didn't know you were in special trouble, sir: thought it was routine, although I did wonder why that Italian gentleman kept making all those speeches. If I'd—'

He stopped as he saw Probus turning back from the rail, and Ramage realized that since all the conversation in the gig between himself, Pisano and Gianna had been in Italian, Jackson had no inkling of Pisano's accusations.

Within a minute the heavily-built Master-at-Arms, breath­less after running up the ladders from below, was standing before Probus, who pointed at Jackson and said: 'Take that man below.'

Probus told Dawlish: 'Send a lieutenant to the Topaze with these men. He's to explain to her commanding officer that one of them has been detained on board this ship on my orders and a report is being sent to Captain Croucher.'

To Ramage he snapped: 'Come down to my cabin.'

The cabin was cool, thanks to the awnings rigged across the deck overhead. Probus pulled a chair away from the desk and sat down.

'Did he know you are being tried tomorrow?'

'Yes sir -1 told him a few minutes ago.'

'And he saw the Topaze getting ready to sail?'

‘Yes - he saw them bending on headsails, then you mentioned about the wheft.'

'Does he know the charge?'

"No - but I mentioned that Pisano had accused me of cowardice.'

‘Very indiscreet.'

‘Yes sir, I apologize. May I ask you a personal question?'

'You can ask, though I don't guarantee to answer.'

'Did you know she was sailing?'

'You know I can't answer - but my reaction to seeing the wheft makes your question unnecessary.'

'Thank you, sir.'

‘You've nothing to thank me for: I've told you nothing.'

'Aye aye, sir.'

‘What sort of man is this dam' cox'n?'

'American, a fine seaman, plenty of initiative and deserves promotion. I don't know why he's never got a discharge with a Protection.'

'Well, that's his affair,' Probus said impatiently. ‘We want to know what he's up to now. Obviously he wanted to be arrested to avoid sailing in the Topaze. That means he wants to stay here. The reason's obvious enough - he wants to be available as a witness. Why? What can he say that can help you?'

'That's what puzzles me, sir: he can't know much about the Pisano business because we always spoke in Italian.'

'So the only new fact he's learnt in the last few minutes is that Pisano's accusing you of cowardice, and that it’ll probably come up at the trial.'

'Yes, sir.'

‘Doesn't make sense, does it? He can't have any vital evidence - nothing that’d be in dispute, anyway. But you've been very indiscreet in confiding to a seaman.'

'I realize that, sir.'

'Still, no harm has been done.'

'Except that now Jackson's under arrest as well as me.'

'Oh? who said so?'

'Well, sir—'

'I only ordered him to be taken below. But if I'm going to keep him on board so you can have him as a witness, I've got to have him under arrest...'

Ramage waited for Probus to continue.

'Before I put him under arrest I wanted to be sure of the charge. Not striking me - although he did - because that means he'd have to be tried by court martial and could hang. Insolence - that's it: then I can deal with him. But listen, Ramage: if this conspiracy ever comes out, we're both ruined. So you'd better get hold of Jackson and warn him to be damn' careful.'

'Aye aye, sir.'

'Very well. But Captain Croucher isn't going to be very pleased. Your father had a lot of enemies, my lad.'

'So I'm beginning to find out, sir. But it's rather hard to meet a man for the first time and find he's an enemy.'

'Well, you can console yourself it's a lot worse on shore here in Corsica with the vendetta: Romeo and Juliet - daggers at dead of night - quarrels between families handed down from father to son like an estate...'

'That's just what I've inherited, it seems to me,' Ramage said bitterly.

'Don't be ridiculous! It's quite a different thing.'

Ramage supposed there must be a difference, but for the moment it was hard to distinguish, except for the darkness. A stiletto between the shoulder blades was a more sophisticated weapon than the one Captain Croucher was using.

'Are you in love with this girl?'

Ramage gave a start: Probus's voice sounded almost disinterested, and the question obviously wasn't meant offen­sively; rather as though he was turning an idea over in his mind.

Well, did he love her? Or had his protective instincts been aroused because she was in danger when they first met? Was he just fascinated by her beauty and her accent, which made English so musical - and sensual, too, for that matter? He simply hadn't thought of it in cold blood: it just happened: one didn't suddenly say 'I'm in love'. He'd known several girls in the past and never regarded them with more than affection, except for a married woman who'd - he felt himself go hot with embarrassment at the thought. Yet... now, at this very moment, he realized for the first time (admitted it, rather) that while she was in the ship - even after he'd stalked out of the cabin, ignoring her pleas - merely knowing she was near had been enough. When she'd gone away he became an empty shell, with no reason for existing, no reason - incentive was a better word - for doing anything. Was this love? It certainly wasn't the brash, almost crude feeling he'd felt for the married woman: that was just a lot of tingling below the sword belt and breathing hard above it. No, he felt utterly lost without her; restless and incomplete. But when she—

'You realize she's in love with you?' Probus said.

'With me?'

'My dear fellow,' Probus exclaimed impatiently, 'are you blind?'

'No-but...'

'The devil take the "buts". I don't know why I'm getting myself mixed up in your affairs; but do I have to draw a chart? You're in very deep water. Until a few minutes ago I wasn't too sure how much of Pisano's story was true: no smoke without fire, you know. But for the Marchesa, I'd have believed half of it, and I'll tell you why, although' - he held up his hand to stop Ramage interrupting - 'women are sometimes wrong in their judgement, and she wasn't on board the Sibella when you struck.

'For me, the Sibella was the biggest question mark, of course. Suddenly finding yourself with the responsibility of a badly damaged ship and a lot of wounded men – it’s natural enough to do something hasty: something you regret later. But I've had time to size up that fellow Jackson - I shouldn't be telling you this, I suppose - and if he'll risk the noose round his neck to save your reputation, then I'm prepared to believe you did the right thing in striking to the Barras.'

'Thank you, sir,' Ramage said lamely. 'It's not the Sibella episode that bothers me: it's the beach.'

'Precisely: it did me, until I found the Marchesa wanting to believe you - but getting precious little help from you, I gather. That cousin really was dead?'

'Yes.'

'Then why the bloody hell didn't you convince the girl? She says you won't explain anything. I suppose she thinks you are either a liar or too proud. You've only yourself to blame if she ends up listening to that bag of wind Pisano, haven't you, eh?'

When Ramage made no reply, Probus appeared to lose his temper. 'Answer me, man!'

'Well, sir, to begin with I was pretty shaken at being accused of not going back; then I got angry at being called a coward by Pisano - dammit, sir, he was so yellow he bolted for the beach without so much as ciao to Pitti. So - well, I felt they weren't worth wasting my breath on. Pisano's only accusing me of cowardice to cover himself.'

'But you had one very important person prepared to believe any reasonable explanation you gave - and presumably testify on your behalf.'

'Oh? Who, sir?'

'The Marchesa, you fool!' Probus made no effort to hide his exasperation.

Ramage's head whined and perspiration soaked his clothes as the humiliating thought struck him like a dagger thrust that he had been so full of indignation, so puffed up with outraged pride and stung with injured innocence, that he hadn't sat down and used his brain.

He realized now that Gianna had only wanted to hear from his own lips exactly what he'd seen when he went back: she only needed a few words of explanation and assurance from the stranger with whom she had - according to Probus anyway - fallen in love. Instead, he had just repeated like a pompous parrot that he had done his duty.

‘Y ou look as if you're going to pass out, Ramage. Here - sit down.'

Probus stood up and pushed a chair across the deck. As Ramage sat down, Probus took a bottle and glasses from a rack .on the bulkhead.

'This brandy's almost too good for a fool like you,' he said, handing Ramage a half-filled glass. After pouring himself out a drink he sat down in another chair and began tapping a finger nail against the glass, appearing to be absorbed in the bell-like note it made, then took a sip of brandy and gave an appreciative sigh.

Ramage took the opportunity of asking a question.

Why do you think Jackson's doing this for me, sir?'

‘How the devil should I know! Pisano acts like that because he's Pisano. Jackson's a seaman. You know a seaman's an odd customer - he'll lie and cheat and get fighting drunk at the sniff of a cork, but he's got one of the highest developed senses of justice on this earth: you've seen enough floggings to know that.

'I always know when I'm flogging the right man - I just look at the faces of the ship's company. Although I'm flogging one of their messmates, if he's guilty, then they accept it. But if he's innocent, I know by their attitude. No murmurings, no mutterings; but I know.

'I'd say that's how Jackson's mind has worked. He probably knows your father was a scapegoat. He's been around long enough to know the Ramage family have enemies. Once he knew they were bringing cowardice into the trial, he realized pretty quickly why he and the rest of the Sibellas were being shipped off to the Topaze. Quicker than me, incidentally,' Probus added.

Ramage said: 'All this makes me feel pretty humble. First you, then Jackson. I don't want to sound ungrateful or offend you, sir, but I'd rather you didn't get mixed up in this any further.'

'My dear fellow, I'm not going to! Already I feel quite ill, and soon after midnight I'll be far too sick to think of attending a court martial in the forenoon - as a certificate duly signed by the surgeon will inform the president of the court. Since there are six post captains among the ships here there'll be one more than the necessary five, so the trial can continue.'

'Thank you, sir.'

'Don't thank me: I'm not helping you - I'm looking after myself. I don't propose running foul of Goddard, but I know far too much about the case to be able to sit as a member of the court. Since it’d be a trifle difficult to explain to the president of the court how I came by that knowledge, it's fortunate I now feel quite feverish and sick, and must take to my cot. So good night to you.'

'Jackson, sir?'

'Leave him to me. Insolence, didn't I say? To me, not to you. You were a witness: the only witness. It happened - as far as I can remember - some time before I received the order to transfer him and the rest of the Sibellas to the Topaze. I must write a report for Captain Croucher. Oh yes,' he added absentmindedly, 'that reminds me. I've another letter to write, too.'

Ramage waited, thinking Probus had more to say about the letter, but the Captain glanced up and said, 'It's all right, you can go; I'm not writing it to you. Good night.'