Ramage decided to pass under the Diadem's stern, luff up and anchor farther inshore, to windward of the Commodore's ship - which apart from anything else, would mean that the boat taking him and Captain Laidman to the Diadem would be rowed with the wind aft and they would appear reasonably smart, instead of dripping with spray.

 Laidman looked so miserable that Ramage felt cheered. He wondered how often such a small ship as the Kathleen had arrived in an anchorage carrying one commanding officer to have his trial resumed, and another to have his trial ordered.

 Well, despite Laidman's remarks, Ramage knew he had bungled the rescue: men had been killed unnecessarily, and Commodore Nelson wasn't the man to overlook that. The trouble is, Ramage thought ruefully, the whole blasted operation looked so simple on paper. It was good of Captain Laid­man to say he would give him full credit in his report, but Laidman was already discredited. For this trip, he told him­self bitterly, the Kathleen is carrying a couple of failures ... Apart from all that, Ramage had grave doubts about the wis­dom of leaving the Belette without setting fire to her. He'd suggested it to Laidman as soon as he stepped on board the Kathleen, but the frigate's captain had shaken his head, muttering something about salvaging her. Knowing the Com­modore - according to Probus, anyway — was aware of the extent of the damage, he'd pressed the point; but Laidman had made no reply.

'Sir...'

 It was Southwick, an anxious note in his voice: Christ, and no wonder: the Diadem was only a hundred yards away, fine on the starboard bow, and he'd been day-dreaming. Every spare telescope in the squadron was probably trained on him. Well, let 'em look: he and Laidman would probably be sent home in the same ship and they could have another look.

'Stand by to harden in the sheets, Mr Southwick. ...'

The Diadem's stern was flashing past.

 'Aft those sheets, Mr Southwick! Quartermaster - bring her to the wind.'

 The Kathleen turned under the Diadem's great counter and headed inshore, spray once again flying over the weather bow as she beat to windward.

 'Mr Southwick - haul taut the topping lifts; stand by all sheets and see the halyards clear for running.'

 Ramage had deliberately not looked up at the Diadem as they passed and Jackson, noticing this, said in a quiet voice, 'The Commodore's watching, sir, and some civilians.'

'Very good, Jackson.'

 Well, let's, hope the Commodore's noticed the Kathleen's lost her topmast and that there are only two guns on the larboard side. Ramage had left all five carronades on the star­board side: the extra weight up to windward helped the ship along.

'Are you ready, Mr Southwick ?'

'Aye aye, sir.'

'Quartermaster, bring her round head to wind!'

 Let's hope the bloody man doesn't shove the tiller over too far and put the ship about on the other tack. No, he was judg­ing it well: the belly in the headsails and main was flattening: the leeches of the jib and foresail began quivering. Instinctively Ramage looked up at the vane on the topmast truck and then realized it was probably floating somewhere in the sea off the Tour Rouge.

 Now all the sails were flapping and seamen were hauling in the sheets. Ramage made a sudden downward movement with his right hand - a movement the seamen at the halyards had been watching for.

 As if all three were one piece of canvas, the jib, foresail and mainsail began to slide down.

 As the jib and foresail reached the bottom of their stays seamen leapt on them to stifle the flogging canvas and secure them with gaskets. Now the great mainsail was down with the gaff on top, and more men were swarming along the boom, folding in the canvas and passing gaskets.

 But half a dozen men in the bow were still watching Ram­age. He was waiting for Jackson, who had moved over to the bulwark on the starboard side.

'About a knot, sir....'

 Ramage lifted his left hand level with his waist, and could see the men in the bow tensing themselves.

 'She's barely got way on now, sir ... stopped ... making sternway.'

 He chopped his hand down to his side and men in the bow sprang to life. The anchor splashed into the water and the sternway avoided the risk that the cable would foul it. A few moments later Ramage could detect a faint smell of burning being brought aft on the wind as the friction scorched the cable.

'Signal from the Commodore,' said. Jackson, and, after glancing at the signal book, reported: 'Our number and the Belette's: captains to report on board.'

Laidman walked over and said: 'Well, m' boy, we'd better go over - 'tisn't very often one reports the loss of one's ship.'

'Oh, I don't know, sir,' Ramage said in a flat voice, 'I did it only three or four days ago.'

'Oh? What ship?'

'The Sibella.'

'But she's a frigate!'

'I know, sir: I was the senior surviving officer.'

‘What happened to you?'

'Captain Croucher brought me to trial.'

'Croucher? Oh yes, in Admiral Goddard's squadron. What was the verdict?'

'I don't know, sir: the trial was interrupted by the Commodore's arrival. I was then given theKathleen and sent up to you.'

 'Well, it doesn't sound too bad. But - of course!' he exclaimed, 'you're old "Blaze-away’s” son, so Admiral Goddard...

'Exactly, sir.'

 'Exactly what?' snapped Laidman. 'Don't put words into my mouth.'

 Southwick was waiting near by and Ramage, realizing that as far as Laidman was concerned he had suddenly become potentially more dangerous to Laidman's future than a ship full of the plague, took the opportunity of turning away.

'Boat's ready, sir,' Southwick reported.

 Ramage turned back to Laidman and repeated the Master's words.

 Once he had climbed down into the boat to go to the Dia­dem, Ramage found that the exhilaration which, without him fully realizing it, had been keeping him alert and active for the last twenty-four hours, with very little food or sleep, had gone, leaving him desperately tired and very depressed.

 Up to then, although the Belette rescue had happened only that morning, it already had an air of unreality about it; almost as though it had never happened: perhaps a well-told tale he'd heard a few months ago. The Sibella affair too, was just a half-remembered dream.

 Now, as Jackson steered the boat for the Diadem and Cap­tain Laidman sat opposite, silent and morose, the whole busi­ness came back into sharp focus, as if he'd made a fractional adjustment to a telescope in his memory.

 There was a thump, and Laidman lumbered to his feet: they had arrived alongside the Diadem and Laidman, as senior, climbed up first.

At the gangway Captain Towry greeted Laidman and told him the Commodore was waiting.

 To Ramage, he said: 'The Commodore will see you in five minutes.'

 The young lieutenant standing anchor watch looked at Ramage, obviously wondering whether or not to say something, but Ramage was in no mood for small talk and began pacing the other side of the gangway. He barely noticed Captain Laid­man leave the ship.

Eventually a lieutenant came up and asked: 'Ramage?'

'Yes.'

'The Commodore will see you now.'

The lieutenant led the way. Outside the door to the Commodore's quarters a Marine sentry snapped to attention, and the lieutenant knocked on the door, opened it when someone answered, and stepped inside. Evidently the Commodore was in his sleeping cabin, because without walking through to the great cabin the lieutenant said quietly:

'Mr Ramage, sir.'

He turned and signalled Ramage to go in.

'Ah, Mr Ramage!'

 The voice was high-pitched and nasal, and Ramage was surprised how small the Commodore was: shorter than Gianna, narrow shouldered, face thin - and, he realized with a shock, one eye had a slightly glazed look. Of course, Commodore Nelson had lost the sight of an eye at Calvi only a year or so ago, but the remaining one was sharp enough.