The ship's yards were being braced round and the sails filled as the men sheeted them home. Slowly she gathered way, slab-sided and bulky, and Ramage saw her Tricolour being hauled down. A minute or two later it was hoisted again, with a Red Ensign above it.

'And there goes Stafford,' Southwick called. Ramage saw another Tricolour come down and the Master commented: 'Jackson's beaten him there - though where he found that ensign I don't know!'

It took nearly two hours to get the seven merchant ships anchored off the Diamond, and by the time the last two arrived the Surcouf had towed La Comète into position, anchored her, and retrieved the seamen, leaving fifteen Junos on board under Rossi's command.

On an impulse, Ramage had sent word to Aitken to keep two of La Comète's boats in tow, as well as her own, and had taken the third in tow of the Juno, giving instructions to Wagstaffe to return to the beach with La Créole and destroy La Comète's fourth boat, which the French seamen had tried to haul up.

Then the Juno led the way round the south side of the Diamond Rock to the remaining two frigates, which were out of sight behind it. The sun was beginning to dip down now and it would be dark within two hours. The men of the Juno and the Surcouf were at quarters as they rounded the Rock, Ramage cursing to himself yet again because he was so short of men, but a sudden hail from Southwick on the fo'c'sle warned him that the French ships were in sight. One glance told him that all fighting was over for the day.

The decks of one frigate were almost awash and, as far as he could make out, she was being kept afloat only by the bows of the second, which was now heeled over by her weight and likely to capsize at any moment. The men had cut her masts away, presumably trying to right her, but three boats were rowing round the two ships. As he looked through the telescope he saw black specks in the water round the two ships. There were also white blobs with black specks on them: men holding on to hammocks to keep afloat.

As he watched he felt a chill which had nothing to do with the fact that the heat was going out of the sun and they were getting a stronger breeze as the Juno came clear of the land. It was the realization that the three boats circling the two ships probably represented all that could be launched. The rest had presumably been smashed by falling masts and yards.

There must be five or six hundred Frenchmen out there, some swimming, some clinging to hammocks, others to bits of wreckage. Many were still on board one or other of the ships: men who could not swim or who feared the sharks. Five or six hundred Frenchmen to be rescued by the Juno and the Surcouf. Once again there was the risk of rescued becoming captors ...

Southwick came hurrying up the quarterdeck ladder, a look of alarm on his face. ‘It'd be suicide, sir,' he exclaimed, obviously not caring that the men at the wheel and the quartermaster heard him. 'Let those devils on board and they'll seize both ships! Aye, and recapture the merchantmen and La Comète too!'

'Quite right,' Ramage murmured, 'and take us into Fort Royal in triumph, and probably put the pair of us in the public pillory for a couple of days to cool our heels while they sharpen the guillotine.'

'Well, sir, I know how . . .' he broke off, but Ramage could guess that the rest of the sentence would have been, 'soft hearted you are.'

'You don't want to leave them to drown though, do you?' Ramage asked in a mild voice.

'They have three boats, sir.'

'Among about six hundred men?'

'I'd sooner leave 'em to drown than hand the two ships over to them,' Southwick said firmly. 'Why, if it was t'other way about, they'd probably sink the boats to make sure we'd drown!'

Ramage jerked his head and walked aft to the taffrail, where the Master joined him with a questioning look. Ramage looked astern at the Juno's four boats and one from La Comète towing astern. Then he pointed to the Surcouf, following two hundred yards in the Juno's wake. 'She has six more. With the three already there, we have fourteen boats in which to tow them to the Grande Anse beach, keeping them at painter's length all the while.'

‘I suppose so, sir,' Southwick said grudgingly, 'but no good ever came of trusting Frenchmen, an' you know that better than most.'

The rescue was easier than Ramage had expected. He hove-to the Juno fifty yards to the north of the sinking ships, the boats swinging round like a dog curling its tail. Immediately men began swimming to them, and Ramage hailed one of the boats, which approached warily. A lieutenant was in command of it, and Ramage ordered him to row round the survivors and tell them to start by getting into the Juno's boats. As soon as they were full the other frigate would come down and pick up the rest. They would be towed to the beach, Ramage told them, warning the lieutenant not to let the boats get so crowded that they capsized or sank. 'You are fortunate that we are here,' he shouted harshly. ‘You will all remain in the boats.'

As Frenchmen scrambled over the gunwales, Ramage took a couple of dozen men from the guns and had them lining the quarterdeck and taffrail with muskets, not so much against the risk of the French swarming on board the Juno as to control them if they tried to overcrowd the boats. He soon saw there was little risk of that happening: as soon as one boat was full, the men on board drove off their former shipmates, screaming at them to go to the others.

Once all the Juno's boats were full Ramage hailed the lieutenant, telling him to have his other two boats secured astern of the rest but that he was to stay with his own boat and keep discipline while the second frigate picked up the remaining survivors.

'Three hundred and forty-one men, sir,’ Southwick reported.

More than half the survivors were in the Juno's boats, so there should be no problem for Aitken. He was just about to tell Southwick to get the Juno under way when there was a sudden violent hissing from the wrecks, followed by the rending and creaking of timber. The frigate that had been almost awash disappeared in a swirling mass of water and the second ship, which had been heeling, began to capsize. It happened slowly, almost effortlessly; there was majesty in the way she turned over into the tangle of masts and yards alongside, the painted black sides vanishing, the bottom emerging green with weed and barnacles, despite the copper sheathing. Air and water spurted and boiled and for a few moments the frigate's keel was horizontal and Ramage saw the rudder was swung hard over, Yards began floating to the surface, leaping up vertically like enormous lances before toppling over to float normally. Then the hull began to shudder as though great fish were nibbling at it and she seemed to float a little higher.

'Her guns just broke adrift,' Ramage commented, breaking the silence that had fallen on board the Juno.

Still the hissing continued, and then it increased. Slowly the forward section began to dip and the remaining part sank lower. Great bubbles broke the surface as water forcing its way into enclosed spaces inside the hull drove out the air. Now the bow section was below the water, the line of the keel sloping steeply like the single rail of a slipway. Then, like a dolphin curving down into the water again after taking a breath, the whole forward section of the hull sank as the after section rose. For a full minute the ship seemed to hang almost vertically: the quarterdeck and taffrail reared up, and the watchers saw the name picked out in gilt on the transom. Then it all vanished, enormous bubbles spewing up floating wreckage and concentric rings of small waves spreading, unaffected by the wind and swell waves.

Ramage swallowed and said to the Master: 'We'll get under way, Mr Southwick...'

The Master did not move, his eyes still riveted on the pale green circle in the water which for a few moments marked the frigate's grave. Ramage touched his arm gently and the old man gave a start. 'A sad sight, sir,' he muttered. 'Shall I get under way?'