He saw Southwick's white hair in the midst of the mêlée; even above the din he could hear the old man yelling encouragement as he swept left and right with his great sword. Paolo's small figure was beside him wielding a cutlass and screaming excitedly in high-pitched Italian. Ramage could distinguish a scream of blasphemy that would have made a hardened Neapolitan brigand blench.

He stood helpless at the quarterdeck rail, separated from the fighting and holding two empty pistols. Dare he leave the quartermaster to cover the quarterdeck? He looked back along the larboard side again and was surprised to see that there was now very little movement. Men with white headbands were back on the hammock nettings - damnation, not just on the nettings but going over the ship's side, down into the schooner, with Aitken standing at the break of the gangway waving his sword and leading the men! There were bodies lying all round the guns but he was thankful to see that only a few of them wore the white headbands.

On the starboard side Southwick's men were slowly breaking up the group of Frenchmen. He saw two French turn and bolt back to the bulwarks, obviously trying to jump back on board the schooner. A third man followed, and then three more.

Further aft, only a few yards away from him, Wagstaffe was standing up in the hammock nettings surrounded by Junos and a moment later he vanished from sight and the nettings cleared of men. Ramage ran to the side and looked down, watching Wagstaffe lead his men aft along the schooner's deck. More Junos were dropping down and suddenly a group of French appeared, scrambling over the nettings from the frigate's deck, some falling in their haste, and tumbling down to the schooner. A moment later Southwick was standing on the nettings above them, his sword waving. He leapt down on to the schooner's deck, followed by a dozen or more men with white headbands.

Except for sprawled figures, the Juno's decks were now clear. Ramage ran from one side to the other frantically trying to distinguish what was going on in the darkness. From the deck of the schooner to larboard he could hear Aitken's voice, the Scots accent very strong, shouting orders, not yells of encouragement. The Marine Lieutenant was bellowing at his men to form up aft. Well, he thought grimly, that schooner is secured. He ran back to the starboard side in time to see Southwick leading his men in a rush aft to a knot of Frenchmen who were standing with their backs to the taffrail. There was shouting, though he could not distinguish the words, but Southwick had paused. Now he could see Frenchmen throwing down their swords and pikes in surrender.

His knees were shaky, his hands trembling, his stomach queasy. He wanted to giggle, and he wanted to talk to someone. He only just stopped himself from clapping the quartermaster on the back. Three minutes ago he had been afraid he had failed and that the Juno would be taken.

Benson, waving a cutlass, was trying to catch his attention. 'Message from Mr Aitken, sir: he -' the boy realized he was gabbling and made an effort to keep his voice even. 'Mr Aitken's respects, sir, and the schooner to larboard is secured.'

'Very well, Benson,' Ramage said. 'My compliments to Mr Aitken, and ask him to report to me as soon as he finds it convenient'

The boy ran off, and Ramage hoped he would remember the exact wording: Aitken would appreciate the 'convenient'. Then Jackson was standing in front of him, white band askew, the blade of his cutlass dark. 'Mr Wagstaffe has the schooner to starboard under command, sir, but he said to tell you it'll be half an hour before he's ready to get under way.'

Ramage laughed, a laugh which nearly got out of control. 'Very well, Jackson, my compliments to Mr Wagstaffe and tell him to let me know how many prisoners he has.'

'The French captain and the first lieutenant are dead, sir; we found 'em lying together by the binnacle. She's called La Mutine and was manned by French seamen with soldiers for boarders.'

As the American hurried forward again, Ramage realized he was still clutching his empty pistols and jammed them into the band of his breeches. They had proved accurate enough, although they were only as effective as the man that held them, and he had used them too late. If he had thought of picking off the two officers a few minutes earlier ... if, if, if ... Always, after an action, came the ifs, and before dawn he would have thought of plenty more. If he had done this he would have saved a dozen men's lives at the starboard mainchains; if he had done that he would have saved a dozen more to larboard. Mistakes he had made - no Marine sharpshooters for example - and probably some which would become apparent within the next few hours. Mistakes that only he might know about, but which had killed men unnecessarily . . .

The Juno was still under way, dragging the schooners along with her, each being held by the grapnels thrown on board the frigate by the confident Frenchmen. Aitken was standing in front of him, his left hand jammed into his jacket, which was buttoned, and a dark stain on his left shoulder. 'Baker and the Marine lieutenant have everything under command down there, sir. About three dozen prisoners, with the Marines guarding them. Twenty or thirty Frenchmen dead and as many more wounded.'

'Our own casualties?' Ramage asked quietly.

'About a dozen dead and wounded to larboard, I should think, sir. I have parties going round attending to the wounded, and Mr Bowen has half a dozen men helping him.'

'Very well,' Ramage said soberly, 'we were very lucky.'

'Lucky?' Aitken was too startled to say 'sir', and added: 'It all worked perfectly!'

Ramage turned back to the quarterdeck rail. Perhaps it had worked out perfectly so far, but none of them realized that up to now they had carried out barely a third of his plan: the hardest part was yet to come.

Two hours before dawn Ramage was weary but still excited. He had questioned the captain of the larboard schooner for half an hour and by playing alternately on the Frenchman's pride and his fear of what was going to happen now he was a prisoner, had managed to discover what the French had intended.

The two schooners, La Mutine and La Créole, had been taken over by the French Navy the day before the Juno sailed into Fort Royal Bay, and the first lieutenants of the two frigates had been put in command. Each had forty men taken from the frigates and embarked seventy soldiers from the 53rd Regiment. Their mission, the French lieutenant had said, was to board the Juno simultaneously from each side and take her into Fort Royal. After that the Frenchman would say no more. Ramage guessed that the man had decided it was proper to discuss the operation, but the way he had then refused further information made Ramage suspect him of hiding a great deal more than he revealed.

He had just signalled to the two Marines to take the Frenchman away when Aitken came into the cabin, obviously excited. The moment the Marines and their prisoner had left he said: 'Orsini and Rossi, sir: they've found an Italian among the prisoners who wants to quit the French and serve with us! He's a quartermaster and seems an intelligent fellow.'

'Fetch him in - but I'll talk to Orsini first'

The midshipman was almost giggling with excitement. He and several seamen, including Rossi, were guarding prisoners, he told Ramage, when Rossi had made some comment in Italian. One of the prisoners immediately spoke - 'In the accent of Genoa,' Orsini said, with all the contempt of one who spoke with the clear accent of Tuscany.

'Go on, boy,' Ramage said impatiently. 'What did he want?'

'We took him away from the other prisoners - in case any more of them spoke Italian - to see what he wanted. It seems he comes from a village twenty miles from Genoa. When Bonaparte invaded Genoa and renamed it the Ligurian Republic, many able-bodied men were forced to serve in the Army and Navy. They had no choice, this man says.'