Five minutes later, as she was formally introduced to the Calypso's officers, 'Blower' Martin was tongue-tied, able only to stare and then to bow, and it was Paolo who stepped forward and described how they had been in action together 'tante volte', which Martin guessed must mean several times, and how Lieutenant Martin had commanded the bomb ketch. The Marchesa knew all about it, and made him describe how they had aimed the mortars.

With all the introductions over, Ramage murmured to Aitken, and later repeated to Southwick, his thanks for the reception. When the men were piped down from aloft and descended like swarming starlings, excited at the presence of the Marchesa and the captain's parents, Ramage said to Aitken: 'You aren't going to get much work out of them until we leave!'

'We're only doing the dockyard's work, sir,' he said sourly. 'Eighty dockyard men were allocated to get the guns and roundshot out. I haven't seen one of them. It took me three days of bullying at the Commissioner's office to get the hoys, and I began swaying the guns over the side with my own men just to get the job done. That damned Commissioner probably has those eighty men building a house for one of his friends - using Navy Board wood.'

'Probably,' Ramage said. He had seen long ago that corrupt transactions would be rated normal by the Navy Board; honest work was the exception. 'Now, all the officers are invited to lunch with us - providing you can supply enough chairs from the gunroom. Kenton, Martin and Orsini could use a form. And was that hamper of food brought on board from the yawl? Ah, there it is; Jackson and Rossi are carrying it below. My mother has packed enough for a ship o' the line.'

CHAPTER THREE

The family's visit to Chatham was still being talked about by Gianna, who had been excited at seeing again the men who had rescued her from the Tuscan shores and then sailed with her in Ramage's first command, the Kathleen cutter.

The Times and the Morning Post were delivered early that morning and Hanson brought them in on a silver salver, offering the Earl his choice. He took The Times, saying: I know you prefer the Post, Nicholas.'

The Countess pushed back her chair and stood up. 'You men will want to read your papers. Gianna wishes to visit her dressmaker again, so unless you want it, John, we'll use the carriage.'

'Good Heavens!' the Earl muttered. 'Sit down a moment,dear . . . Does the Post mention this?' he said to Nicholas without raising his head.

Ramage nodded but was engrossed in what he was reading. The Countess looked surprised and then slightlyalarmed, but when she saw that Gianna was about to ask questions she held her finger to her lips.

Finally the Earl said, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice: 'Bonaparte's done it, the scoundrel!'

The Countess sighed, needing no more explanation, but Gianna said excitedly: 'What is it? Read it out!'

The Admiral looked across at his son. 'You read it, Nicholas: I'd like to compare it with The Times report.'

Nicholas flattened the page of the paper. 'Well, peace has been signed. The Post says:

' "We are officially informed that yesterday, the 1st day of October, the preliminary articles for a peace between Great Britain and France were signed in London between Lord Hawkesbury, His Majesty's Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, and M. Louis-Guillaume Otto, Commissioner for the Exchange of French Prisoners in England.

'"It is understood that ratifications will be exchanged within two weeks, and that they will be followed by a Royal proclamation in which His Majesty will order a cessation of arms by sea and land.

'"According to the preliminary articles, five months from the date of the exchange of ratifications will be the longest period during which hostilities can exist in the most distant parts of the globe."'

As soon as he stopped reading, Gianna said: 'It gives no actual details, then? Just that the preliminaries have been signed?'

'There is a second article, which may or may not be official. The writer simply says "We understand . . ." That's often a way the government flies a kite to see how Parliament will react; sometimes it is simply gossip.'

'Read it out, anyway,' his mother said.

'I'll just tell you the main points. As far as I can see, we return to Bonaparte and his allies everything we've taken and he keeps everything except - Egypt. Anyway, starting with the West Indies: we return every island we've captured from the Dutch except Dutch Guiana but we don't return Trinidad to the Spanish.'

The Earl sniffed: 'That's Bonaparte punishing the Dons for making peace with Portugal without his permission!'

Nicholas nodded. His father understood the broader sweep of world affairs better than he. 'Denmark gets back the islands of St Thomas, St Croix and St John . . .' For a moment his memory flicked back to the Triton brig, his second command, drifting dismasted in the Caribbean after a hurricane, with St Thomas and St Croix in the distance.

'The Swedes get back St Bartholomew.'

A tiny island north of Antigua but one of the most beautiful in the Leeward Islands.

'France - well, Bonaparte gets back all the sugar islands except Guadeloupe. We lost thousands of soldiers and hundreds of seamen from sickness to capture them. Every capture raised a cheer in Parliament for the government. Now Bonaparte gets them back - by bluffing Hawkesbury, I suppose.'

Every one of those islands was as familiar to Ramage as Whitehall: St Lucia, and his attack with the Triton brig; Martinique, where he had seized Diamond Rock and captured a convoy, and his present command, the Calypso frigate, raiding Fort Royal - or Fort de France, as the Republicans had renamed it; Antigua with its mosquitoes and corruption . . .

'Now,' he continued, 'the Atlantic. We return the Cape of Good Hope to the Dutch, and Portugal gets Madeira.'

'So we lose provisioning ports on the way to India,' his father said. 'Hawkesbury is a bigger fool than anyone believed.'

'You flatter him,' Nicholas said dryly, 'because, in the East Indies, Malacca, Amboyna, Banda and Ternate are returned to the Dutch, although we keep Ceylon. But in India Bonaparte gets back Pondicherry, Chandernagore and various settlements along the Ganges.'

'It's unbelievable,' the Admiral said, his voice revealing his despair. 'We've lost so many lives and beggared ourselves and now we sign a peace treaty which would be harsh even if we'd lost the war.'

'We won the war and Hawkesbury and Addington have lost the peace,' Nicholas said bitterly.

Gianna said quietly: 'There is no mention of Italy?'

'Not of Volterra, but I'm just coming to Europe,' Nicholas said. 'We return the island of St Marcouf, Egypt goes back to the Sublime Porte, and the Order of St John of Jerusalem have Malta, Gozo and Comino restored to them. France has to evacuate Naples and Roman territory - that is the only reference to Italy - while Britain evacuates Corsica, which means Portoferraio, and "all other islands and fortresses she has occupied in the Adriatic and Mediterranean". And, across the Atlantic, we restore St Pierre and Miquelon to Bonaparte so his fishermen have a base . . .'

'Can I return to Volterra?' Gianna asked flatly.

Ramage gestured at his father, who was obviously leaving him to answer. 'Well, once the ratifications are signed, legally we are at peace with France and British subjects will be free to travel. Dozens will flock to Paris and Rome, I expect. But Bonaparte is going to keep the Republic of Genoa, Piedmont, Tuscany ... all the Italian states, including Volterra. At least, that's what the newspapers say, and I think they must have been given special information.'