Fascinated at this glimpse of the world of objects, subjects and patrons seen through the eyes of a painter, Ramage said: 'If you can capture Trinidade on canvas just after dawn, noon and sunset, I'll be the first to buy them!'

'That's good of you,' Wilkins said politely, 'but it's not the point I'm making. You've seen it: you know what it's like. I'm grumbling about the people who don't know and refuse to let the painter show them. You probably know the early Florentine painters were laughed at because no one in the north could believe that the light they painted actually existed in Tuscany. Finally, enough people visited Tuscany and saw for themselves, and the Florentines were accepted. But that was a long time ago, and I assure you that Tuscany is still the southern limit of people's credulity!'

'When we get back to London we'll hold an exhibition, showing all your paintings of this expedition - like the paintings of Captain Cook's voyages.'

Wilkins slid off the gun and stood in front of Ramage, the sun's rays giving him a ruddy complexion which did not disguise the serious look in his face.

'Do you really think we shall ever see London again. Captain?'

The sudden question startled Ramage. 'Yes, why ever not?'

Wilkins gestured towards the Lynx and the anchored prizes. 'Those fellows seem to hold all the aces.'

Ramage's harsh laugh was not one intended to reassure Wilkins; it came quite naturally as his memory flickered back over the past few years, when a variety of men had seemed to hold enough aces, yet. . .

'I'm not a gambler, Wilkins; none of the Calypso's officers is. But we've all learned one thing - three aces can be taken by the two of trumps!'

'So we have a two of trumps?'

'I didn't say that; just that we need to find only the two or three if we want to see London again, not necessarily an ace.'

Wilkins laughed, a cheerful laugh which also revealed the relief he felt. 'Tell me, Captain, all those actions of yours described in I don't know how many London Gazettes: how many of those were games won with a two of trumps and how many with an ace?'

'You'd better ask Southwick, he watches the games more closely than I. But I don't remember any aces - or court cards - at all. We always seem to get dealt fives or under!'

Ramage saw the soundings and survey teams assembling on the maindeck and went down to give instructions to Martin.

'Don't be obvious about it, but each day I want you to take three or four soundings and get a rough idea of the depths between us and the Lynx. You'll soon have that reef on the western side of the bay charted, but make sure you cover the eastern side, too.'

Martin grinned and he said: 'Aye aye, sir; it'd be easier to tack than wear to get out of the bay!'

'Indeed?' Ramage said, his face expressionless.

He found Wagstaffe with Kenton cursing the tardiness of Williams, one of the surveyors.

'Once you can look down on the Lynx, I want you to give someone the glass - perhaps you had better do it yourself; it'll be a welcome change from tramping up and down the hills - and watch the Lynx for a few hours. See what you can tell me about the state of discipline, condition of her sails and rigging, check her armament and see if she can mount swivels, and try to see exactly how many men she has on board. Tomorrow I want to know exactly how many men are guarding the prisoners. And, of course, note the boats leaving or arriving at the Lynx.'

Wagstaffe saluted. 'Surveying is a very boring job; I seem to end up holding these striped poles and measuring angles. By the way, sir, once the draughtsmen really get to work, we're going to have to give names to the bays, headlands and peaks. I mention it, sir, in case you want to state your preferences.'

Ramage was still absorbing Wagstaffe's tact when Southwick came bustling up, holding a slate. 'You want the same watch on the prizes, sir?'

'Yes. Not a boat visited any one of them yesterday.'

'No reason why one should, come to think of it, sir; each ship must have plenty of water and provisions. Any trouble with hostages, and the privateersmen would be going over to the Lynx.'

'Ah, what eyes and brains lost to the Revenue Service,' Ramage teased.

Southwick sniffed contemptuously. 'My big mistake, sir, was not joining the smugglers when I was a boy. I'd be retired now with a big mansion, a stable of horses, two carriages...'

Aitken came up and saluted. 'The swimmers, sir. They're ready for inspection, and the carpenter and his mates have nearly finished the first raft. Would you care to look at it before they put the last nails on the decking and start on the second?'

The raft looked in fact like a large toboggan with wide and deep runners. On the front of what would be the section on which a person would sit to slide on snow was an eyebolt, with another at the back.

'I want a couple of fathoms of line on each eyebolt, and secure line along the sides, so that men can hold on.'

'How many men, sir?'

Ramage shrugged his shoulders. He looked at the raft and said: 'She won't take more than six holding on each side, plus one forward and one astern. That'll make fourteen, and should be enough. Put a batten each side on the decking, carpenter, here and there, so that something put on top won't roll off.'

He left the raft and walked along the line of men drawn up on the larboard gangway. They represented the Calypso's best swimmers, and he jumped on to the breech of a gun. 'Gather round,' he said. 'This is what you'll be training to do in the next few days.'

Four days later, as he listened to the splashing of a couple of dozen men swimming beside the ship, out of sight of the privateersmen, Ramage sat at his desk staring at several sheets of paper held down by a large polished pebble.

His life at the moment seemed divided into halves. One was Gianna, the other was the problem of the Lynx and her prizes.

Since leaving the house in Palace Street and joining the Calypso at Chatham, he had tried to avoid thinking of her. He realized now that he had in fact tried deliberately to destroy every memory of her, particularly of their first meeting, in the darkness and mystery of the Torre di Buranaccio, and the desperation he felt holding her in an open boat knowing she had a musket ball in her shoulder and fearing she would die before he could find a surgeon ... So many memories, some of danger, some of peace. When she came out to Lisbon to see him and the way she had the ambassador, Hookham Frere, dancing a jig in an effort to please her, and quiet days at St Kew when they had walked together over the Cornish moors or rode as far as Roughtor and Brown Willie, the distant peaks which looked as though they had been dropped by a giant... When her eyes glinted and she became imperious, the Marchesa breaking through, revealing a childhood spent in the palace at Volterra with dozens of servants and an early adulthood surrounded by ministers, the ruler of her own state, Volterra. He remembered the walled city of Volterra with its dozens of towers, tall, very narrow rectangles rising high like tree trunks.

Was she safely there, consulting with her ministers, restoring order and without French troops? Had the French removed their guillotines and rusty iron trees of Liberty? Was she ruling wisely and patiently, realizing that forgiving and forgetting might be a wiser policy than judging and revenging? Or was she dead, an assassin's victim?

Because he had previously refused to think about it, chasing away the random thoughts that leapt at him from dark corners of his mind before he went to sleep, or when he woke at night, his head a turmoil and his muscles knotted, he found that new fears for Gianna had spawned and demanded his consideration.

He tried to fight them off by imagining what had happened to her from the time she had boarded the Dover packet with the Herveys. They would have arrived in Calais and presented their passports, duly signed by Hawkesbury and probably, because Jenks was a fool, countersigned by Otto. The Herveys' carriages would have been loaded with their baggage, and knowing both the Herveys and Gianna, he could imagine just how many trunks would be involved. Then they would have set off along the Paris road, probably intending to spend the first night of the journey at Amiens.