With that the three men left. Ramage rubbed his face with a towel and was thankful it was not a humid night. He tugged his stock straight, ran a comb through his hair, and put the rolled-up chart back in the rack. He glanced round the cabin - it looked exactly as Velasquez had left it when the Calypso came alongside.

 A stamping of feet down the companionway warned him that Velasquez was being brought down with an escort of at least two Marines.

 "Spanish officer, h'under h'escort, sir, " the sentry announced.

 "Send him in, but the escort can stay outside."

 Velasquez came into the cabin warily, as though expecting a wild animal to leap at him out of the shadows.

 "Good morning, " Ramage said in Spanish.

 Velasquez had not seen him sitting at the desk and he took a step back.

 "Come in, " Ramage said. "Sit on the settee."

 "You speak Spanish! " Velasquez exclaimed. "Why - you are the leader of the mutineers! But that uniform! Why do you wear it?"

 "It fits me rather well, doesn't it?" Ramage remarked conversationally.

 "Yes, but -"

 "It should, of course; it was made for me by one of the best tailors in London."

 "But you are a mutineer! "

 "No, " Ramage said quietly, "you just thought I was."

 "The rest of the men, " Velasquez said lamely. "I just saw some of them in Army uniform . . ."

 "Marine uniform, " Ramage corrected him.

 Velasquez flopped down on the settee. "I do not understand. They sent me a warning from El Pilar that the Santa Barbara was bringing in another English frigate with a mutinous crew. I assumed all the details had been arranged by that fool Lopez, and that she was just to berth alongside me."

 "Lopez was a prisoner; the Santa Barbara was an English prize by then."

 "Yes, I realize that now. But you, Senor?"

 "Nicholas Ramage, at your service; a captain in the Royal Navy."

 Velasquez was about to rise and bow, but Ramage gestured for him to remain seated: time was getting short, with all the prisoners out of the Jocasta.

 "Captain Velasquez, all your men will soon be on board the Santa Barbara, along with the brig's original crew and Captain Lopez - oh yes, and the nephew of the Captain-General. There are forty-one of your men, wounded in the fighting. And here -" he took a piece of folded paper from his pocket "- are the names of the twenty-three killed. One of the wounded identified them. The garrisons of the two forts are also on board."

 "You mean Castillo San Antonio and El Pilar?" Velasquez asked incredulously.

 "Yes. You heard two explosions?"

 "My God, yes! "

 "You'll see what caused them when you sail back."

 "Sail back?" Velasquez asked suspiciously.

 "Back into Santa Cruz. You will be taken over to the Santa Barbara in a few minutes and you will allow the remaining English Marines on board to depart in the boat that takes you over. Then you will sail the Santa Barbara back into port."

 "You mean I will be free?"

 "Yes - you and all the prisoners I have taken, providing you give your word that you will not prevent my Marines leaving. I should warn you that the Calypso - she was the frigate that came alongside you in Santa Cruz - is close by, so that between us we can sink the Santa Barbara in a matter of moments."

 "You have my word, " Velasquez said, and Ramage knew he meant it. "You have my word, " he repeated bitterly, "although God knows that from now on my own people will place little value on it."

 Ramage looked puzzled, and Velasquez held his hands out, palms upwards. "As soon as the Captain-General hears of this, I shall be put under arrest. There was not even a pistol loaded when you boarded us."

 "At least you are still alive! " Ramage exclaimed, surprised and vaguely irritated by the sympathy he was beginning to feel for the Spaniard.

 "I may live to regret that, " Velasquez said bitterly. Then he glanced up at Ramage. "Have you captured any of the English mutineers who originally brought in this ship? Many have sailed in neutral ships."

 "Some. In time we'll capture most of them."

 "There was one man, one of their leaders. He could handle the ship well. He brought her round from La Guaira - with a Spanish guard, of course. I remember him well. His name - for the moment I cannot remember it."

 "Summers?"

 "Ah, that was it. You know him?"

 "He was captured a few weeks ago and court-martialled."

 "And?"

 "And he was hanged."

 "He deserved it, " Velasquez said quietly. "He brought us a frigate, but he was evil. He boasted that he planned the entire mutiny and was responsible for killing all the officers. I think he was the most evil man I ever met. It was wrong for Spain to benefit from the activities of such men. We needed the ship, but mutiny knows no frontiers."

 Ramage suddenly felt a kinship with Velasquez; the kinship of men who faced the responsibilities of command. He stood up and held out his hand.

 "I have your word about my Marines?"

 "You have." Velasquez shook hands. "And thank you for freeing us. I am in your debt. Now you return to report to your Admiral?"

 "Yes, " Ramage said, thinking of the letters in the drawer.

 "What about the other English frigate, the one which came a month ago?"

 "Her captain was making a reconnaissance, " Ramage said. "We needed to know if we could cut out La Perla."

 "And he reported that you could?" Velasquez asked incredulously. "Caramba! He must be a brave man! And you, Captain Ramage, you have done the impossible."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

 By sunrise the Jocasta was running westward under studding sails with a stiff north-east wind. To the south a series of mountain peaks stretched into the distance along the coast of the Main, fading purple like old bruises, while ahead, fine on the starboard bow, was Isla de Margarita, its high mountains making it seem as if the island had been formed by a giant wrenching off a handful of the mainland and tossing it into the sea a dozen miles from the coast. There were two small islands in the channel between, Coche and Cabagua.

 Daylight had been a melancholy time on board the frigate because Ramage had to conduct a funeral service for the Iwenty-three Spaniards and then for the five men from the Calypso who had been killed while boarding the Jocasta. Yet the ship's company had soon cheered up after the last body, sewn into a hammock and with a roundshot at the feet, had disappeared over the side. Ramage sensed that the men had, like him, expected far heavier casualties, and most of them were too concerned with the wonder of being alive to mourn five lost shipmates for long.

 Ramage paused to look ahead at Isla de Margarita and then resumed his pacing of the starboard side of the quarterdeck. By now the Santa Barbara would be in Santa Cruz and Velasquez and Lopez - and the Captain-General's nephew - would be telling their story. By now a messenger (two or three of them if the Mayor had any sense) would be galloping along the coast, carrying the warning to the Captain-General in Caracas that La Perla had been captured. Looking across the mountains, which swept on westwards like enormous petrified waves, Ramage did not envy the messengers.

 The last cast of the log showed that the Jocasta was making nine and a half knots. If they could keep up this speed they would arrive off La Guaira soon after dawn tomorrow. In fact it mattered little whether it was dawn or noon, providing they reached there in daylight and before the messengers.

 "A particular cargo." The phrase nagged him. The word "particular" had a certain significance when used in the Royal Navy, usually meaning that something was both important and secret. When Admiral Nelson had been given the task of covering the English Channel against the threat of invasion, he had been given command of a squadron "to be employed upon a particular service".