He did not put it into as many words, of course, but in the convoy action off Diamond Rock, for instance, and cutting out the Jocasta at Santa Cruz, the odds were (on paper) so much against him that no sane man would accept them. But Captain Ramage did and, Rennick realized later, it was because the captain read figures on paper differently from most people. There were times when he calculated that one of his own men was worth, say, two Frenchmen or three Spaniards. At other times he doubled those figures. In the Jocasta business he must have quadrupled them! Yet he knew his men; he never asked for more than they could give (it had taken Rennick a long time to realize that), and he had this ability to lead the men so that they gave it. Rennick still shivered when he thought of how his Marines had captured and blown up the castles at Santa Cruz: it had seemed impossible in prospect, but in retrospect it seemed easy. Which meant, of course, that Mr Ramage had this knack of seeing a problem simultaneously in prospect and, it seemed, in retrospect The second ability, of course, was that he took a decision apparently without a moment's doubt, although he was as likely to refuse a particular operation because the odds were wrong as he was to attempt something else. Nor did he give a damn what anyone thought of him; that was what it all meant in the end. He received his orders, did what he thought was right, and damned the consequences. So far the Admiralty and the various admirals had been forced to congratulate him (Rennick gathered much of this from people like Southwick), but if Captain the Lord Ramage ever put a foot wrong then they'd crucify him. They'd put him on the beach on half pay and leave the crabs to chew his uniform and boots (and try to forget the dispatches they'd been only too pleased at the time to print in the Gazette). Indeed, Rennick's own father had written a long letter to this effect quite recently - after the Diamond Rock convoy affair, although before Santa Cruz - warning him that he had reaped enough glory and should at once get transferred to another ship, one commanded by a more conservative captain. The feeling in London, the old Colonel wrote, was that Captain Ramage's luck had held for several years but was bound to change. To be fair, he also mentioned a story from Mr Villiers that the King had been heard to tell the First Lord that had Captain Ramage not had a title in his own right he should have received a knighthood for Diamond Rock and a baronetcy for Santa Cruz, and that the First Lord's reactions had been mixed. So, the Colonel had written: 'Your Captain stands well with the King, but do not forget that Their Lordships are the ones who give the orders and read the reports and pass dispatches for publication in the LondonGazette.' For all that, Curacao looked like a femur, and he could learn nothing more from the map. The Dutch for saint was sint, a bay was a baai, and a point was punda. That much he had learned from the map, but it seemed little more than a chart with roads and villages marked on it. He folded it and left the gunroom to see the captain.

The captain's steward, Silkin, who was blessed with the ability to move without noise or effort, was just clearing away the breakfast table and the captain seemed in a cheerful mood. This, Rennick knew well enough, was lucky, until at least an hour after breakfast the captain often seemed to walk around in the shadow of his own Mack stormcloud.

'Ah, Rennick; you have the plans for the Battle of Amsterdam?'

The Marine lieutenant grinned and put the map on the desk. 'My only plan, sir - suggestion, rather - is that we take good care not to fight for this side of the city.'

To Rennick's surprise, Ramage nodded in agreement. That was my impression, but I'm no soldier. Risk of them turning our flank?'

Rennick nodded. 'We could start off holding the Punda side of the channel, sir - in fact the channel forms a moat in front - but it runs into the lake, Schottegat. We haven't nearly enough men to form a line from the other side of the lake - the far side from here - to the north coast of the island. The rebels could pour through there and come round to attack the eastern side of Amsterdam, Punda, taking us in the rear.'

'Soldiers always design the defences of ports as though they'll only ever be attacked from seaward,' Ramage commented sourly. 'English Harbour, Cartagena, Havana, San Juan in Puerto Rico, Fort Royal in Martinique . . .' They should leave it to the Marines, sir.' 'Let them lay bricks, instead of dropping them, eh? Well, what do you suggest?'

The only way we can't be outflanked or taken in the rear, sir, is to forget the Punda side altogether, simply abandon it, and form a line facing west on the Otrabanda side, with the sea on our left, the channel behind us, and Schottegat, or whatever that lake is called, on our right If we have to retreat we can get back on board the Calypso." 'We can leave boats ready for us along the Otrabanda quay, you mean. Even shift the privateers alongside.'

Rennick nodded. 'We could evacuate the Governor and his family, and a hundred or so other people.' Even as he spoke he realized that the captain was shaking his head. Rennick was not surprised; the place was indefensible, a fact which, added to their being heavily outnumbered, meant they were better off staying in the Calypso. Sailors always got into trouble the moment they set foot on land . . .

'I wasn't thinking of defending Amsterdam, Mr Rennick.' The captain was speaking quietly, and Rennick was relieved to hear the news. It confirmed his own view that it was an impossible task with their force - a hundred Dutchmen, forty Marines and at most a hundred and fifty seamen. Then he realized that there had been a faint emphasis on one of the words which completely changed the meaning of the whole sentence.

'As you quite rightly point out, Mr Rennick, we can't defend Amsterdam, and even if we could - if we had enough men - I'm not sure that would be the right thing to do. I think we should take your Marines and what seamen we can spare, and attack these rebels. Take them by surprise, if possible. And well leave the Dutch troops where they are, here in Amsterdam, unless their officers speak English.' 'But sir, there are five hundred rebels and privateersmen...'

'And a hundred and fifty or so of us.'

'Exactly, sir, so - '

'You're not suggesting that rebels and privateersmen are better trained than our seamen and Marines?'

'Well, no, sir.' Rennick was wary. All too often the captain's questions - and - answers ended up with some conclusion he could not refute, but for the moment he failed to see the trend of the captain's argument. 'Not better disciplined, anyway.'

'And the odds our men usually reckon against the French?'

'Well, sir, three to one . . .'

'Mr Rennick,' Ramage said in the same quiet voice, 'my mathematics are not particularly good, but if we have one hundred and fifty and they have five hundred, surely the odds are close to three to one?'

Rennick seized the only argument left. They're not all French, sir.'

Ramage laughed. 'No, but don't press the point. The French are the privateersmen and will be better trained: they are used to using muskets and pistols. Your Dutchmen, the rebels, will have no training and even less discipline: they'll be the "philosophers", waving their arms in the air and talking loudly of freedom and equality while die privateersmen fire off a dozen rounds each.'

Suddenly Rennick realized that he had given the wrong impression. From the start, for a reason he could no longer fathom, he had thought in terms of defending Amsterdam, although the captain had not made a point of it He, the Marine officer, was the one who should be arguing that the Calypso's role was to fight out in the open, where they could attack suddenly and retreat, strike again from another direction and vanish, swoop on the enemy when they had bivouacked for the night and then disappear into the darkness. When you had by far the smallest force it was fatal to get trapped in a defensive position.