'We've plenty of time,' Ramage said, beginning to cheer up. 'The frigates, the schooners, the droghers, the short batteries and then the goats if there's time to spare.'

'It'd be good exercise for the Marines,' said Southwick sardonically. 'Turn 'em loose on the Diamond with enough water for a week and tell 'em they have to live off the goats. Plenty of caves for them to sleep in - I saw three or four as we came by, some of them quite large.'

Ramage eyed Southwick with mock suspicion. 'I think you'd like to retire to the Diamond when the war is over.'

'We'll see.' Southwick was noncommittal. 'What are the orders for tonight, sir?'

Having discussed the navigation with the Master, Ramage passed the word for the First Lieutenant to join them. When Aitken arrived he told them briefly of the information passed on by the commanding officer of the Welcome. The First Lieutenant and Southwick both gave contemptuous sniffs, which Ramage found encouraging. The Master was always eager to seek out action, but up to this moment Ramage had had no chance to gauge Aitken.

'Do we have to leave those frigates in there, sir?' the First Lieutenant asked plaintively.

'Mr Southwick and I have just been going over the chart of Fort Royal Bay,' Ramage said. 'Have a look at it,' He gave Aitken a couple of minutes to absorb the general situation and then pointed to the two places where the frigates could be at anchor.

Aitken measured off distances from the latitude scale. ?Close enough to the Fort. Point-blank range . . .' he said mournfully.

Ramage felt disappointed: so the First Lieutenant was no fire-eater.

Aitken looked closely at the few soundings shown on the chart, and then dumbfounded Ramage by commenting: 'We'll have to sink one, since we can't tow 'em both out. Not unless they're rigged, in which case we could sail 'em.'

Ramage nodded as he thought the commanding officer of His Majesty's frigate Juno should nod when his First Lieutenant reached a conclusion he had himself reached a couple of hours earlier.

Aitken took out his watch and said eagerly. 'You plan to attack tonight, sir?'

Southwick shuddered and Ramage shook his head. 'We need to know a little more precisely where they are, and I don't think Mr Southwick would fancy piloting us into a harbour in the dark when he hasn't seen it for a few years. Not that I would ask him to, either!'

Aitken realized that his enthusiasm had run away with him. 'Of course, sir - but I’ll take a boat in tonight, if you wish. That way the French won't know the Juno is nearby.'

Ramage caught Southwick's eye and knew there was no need to worry about Aitken's aggressiveness; indeed it might be necessary to curb it. 'Don't worry about that: I'm sure the Governor at Fort Royal or St Pierre already knows we've relieved the brig. He's used to a British frigate tacking up and down the coast - this place has been under blockade for months.'

'That's what I find so puzzling about those frigates, sir,' Aitken said. 'Why haven't the French rigged 'em and used 'em to capture or drive off our ships?'

'The obvious reason may be the right one,' Ramage said quietly. 'Spars rotted or broken, short of cordage or sails . . . Probably waiting for supplies to arrive from France to commission them.'

Aitken looked at him admiringly, and Ramage felt embarrassed: it had been obvious enough to him, but not apparently to the First Lieutenant, nor, he saw from the look on Southwick's face, to the Master either.

'Give us a little more time,' Southwick commented.

'I hope so,' Ramage said, 'but I hope your thoughts aren't dwelling on those goats!'

'I'll let them take their turn,' Southwick said and began explaining the joke to Aitken, who looked excited and said enthusiastically: ‘I did a lot of deer hunting when I was a boy in Scotland, if that'd be any help.'

'Frigates,' Ramage said sternly, 'I'd be much obliged if you gentlemen would confine your thoughts to frigates, privateers and droghers.'

'Of course, sir,' said a chastened Aitken. 'Your night orders, sir?’

'Boat exercises,' Ramage said promptly. 'As soon as it is dark, we hoist out the boats and send away boarding parties. Issue them with muskets and pistols. Now's the time for them to make mistakes, out of earshot of the French. They'll row twice round the ship and then exercise at boarding us. We recover boats, hoist them out again, and do it once more. There won't be much sleep for anyone, but we'll have an easy day tomorrow.'

Southwick and Aitken glanced at each other at his last words, but Ramage decided against explaining his plan. The ship's company was in good spirits because it was confident. Now the men had to develop another kind of confidence - that they could deal with anything unexpected while in the boats. Most important of all, how to scramble up a ship's side while armed with a pistol, musket, cutlass or pike, and with a determined enemy firing down at them. There would be no shooting while they exercised boarding the Juno in the darkness, but it would teach them that the side of a prison wall and the side of a frigate could be just as difficult to scale.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Next morning the Surgeon reported to Ramage shortly after dawn, holding a list in one hand and his journal in the other. Bowen had a long face and said mournfully, 'It's been a long time since I had to report men on the sick list, sir . . .'

'You'd better start getting used to the idea,' Ramage said grimly. 'We'll be seeing plenty of action in the next few weeks, I hope. Now, what sort of harvest did you reap last night?'

Bowen held out the list. ‘The men are so careless,' he grumbled. 'They don't seem to give a thought to their own safety.'

'This list certainly bears that out,' Ramage said crossly, and Bowen looked up, startled. 'Four men wounded by the accidental discharge of pistols, one by a musket ball, one cut by a cutlass - how the devil can that happen? - and three with rope burns to the hands and shins.'

'Accidents will happen, sir,' Bowen said lamely.

'Accidents? Five shots fired. Can you imagine that happening as boats row up with muffled oars to make a surprise night attack on an enemy ship at anchor? Even one shot would give the alarm. The enemy is alerted and opens fire, and every man in our boarding party might be killed. Twenty men die - many more if there are other boats - all because of the stupid, criminal carelessness of one man.'

He looked down at the list and said wrathfully: That can happen if one man is careless, but just look at this.' He waved the paper. 'Not one man but five. And in every case the man shoots himself or another of his shipmates. Well, I'm warning the ship's company that the next time I'll have each man flogged -'

'Fortunately, sir, all the wounds are slight. I have -'

'Bowen,' Ramage snapped, 'frankly I don't give a damn about the wounds. What concerns me is the noise. A pistol shot at night can be heard for a couple of miles, let alone a couple of yards. Can't you understand that one man's carelessness can kill all his shipmates, and wreck a carefully planned attack?'

'Yes, sir, I do understand about the gunshot wounds, but the rope burns -'

'Rope burns!' Ramage exclaimed. 'Damnation take it, Bowen, these men are supposed to be seamen. Do I have to start training them to climb ropes?'

'Excuse me, sir,' Bowen said nervously, not having seen Ramage so angry before, 1 did question those three men because it surprised me too, and it was due to enthusiasm. All three were climbing the same rope to board the Juno, and apparently the lower two men were urging on the man above them. In his excitement he missed his grasp with one hand, began to slide and took the rest of the men down with him.'