"Oh goodness me, how I agree with you, sir!" Ramage said emphatically, and three startled admirals looked up sharply.

Cargill took a few moments to recover from his surprise and he then turned to Sir Henry. "You see, Faversham - even he agrees with me."

Sir Henry was learning, and contented himself with a nod.

Admiral Keeler said quickly: "I don't think that Ramage quite understood the point you're making, Cargill."

"Indeed I did, sir," Ramage said politely. "The general said the only way to beat the French - on land, of course - is by a direct frontal attack in regular order because by and large French troops are a rabble. I know nothing of French troops, but I am sure he does: such an opinion must be based on a great deal of experience on the field of battle."

He paused, and noted how Cargill flushed. No, Ramage decided, the gallant general has not yet smelled powder. He then saw that while Sir Henry idly turned his glass by the stem and appeared supremely bored by the conversation, the other two admirals, the marquis, two earls and the viscount looked alarmed at Ramage's words, and even Lieutenant-General the Earl of Innes seemed uncomfortable, as though only loyalty to the Army stopped him from flatly contradicting Cargill.

"No, sir," Ramage told Admiral Keeler, "this French rabble that General Cargill so well describes is always met by direct frontal attacks in regular order - the Austrians have been doing it all the time, and I am sure the War Office in Whitehall has it in mind that the British Army will employ the same tactics, once we can fight the French on land."

"But for God's sake!" Admiral Keeler exclaimed, "the French beat the Austrians every time they meet!"

"Oh yes, indeed they do, sir," Ramage said dreamily, and Sir Henry stopped twiddling his glass and put it down on the table, the better to concentrate. He was slightly deaf on the left side; he turned so that his right ear would miss nothing.

"You see, sir," Ramage said to Sir William Keeler, speaking lightly as if telling him the time of breakfast next morning, "there seems to be some misunderstanding about the nature of the enemy. I am a very junior post-captain, and it would not do for me to argue with a general about military affairs. About naval affairs, naturally I am better informed."

"I should think so!" Sir William snapped. "And you have your orders from the Admiralty."

"Of course, sir," Ramage said respectfully, "and I am given freedom in the way I carry them out."

"What the deuce has all this to do with the point I'm making that French troops are a rabble, and we need to make a frontal attack?" asked Cargill.

"Nothing, sir," Ramage said politely. "I don't think anyone is arguing with your professional views on tactics. Most certainly I wasn't. . ."

"Then who decided on this 'guile' business?"

"Ah, I think that's where a misunderstanding has arisen. The objective - perhaps some people are not clear about our objective?"

Sir Henry held up his glass as Silkin came round with the decanter. This young fellow Ramage, he thought, can tie Cargill in knots if he has a mind to, whether the subject is military tactics or wet-nursing a baby. It is a joy to listen to a young man presenting a well thought out argument; it flows smoothly, like this wine. Fortunate indeed, Sir Henry decided, that he had ended up on board a frigate commanded by a fellow like this.

"I'm in no doubt about the objective," Cargill declared. "Damned obvious what it is. The objective, and the means of achieving it."

Ramage nodded. "I am glad to hear you saying that, sir," he said, "so we are in agreement."

"Agreement?" Cargill repeated suspiciously. "Agreement over what?"

"You're teasing me, sir," Ramage said, "just because I am a sailor, without your military experience."

Sir Henry recognized his cue. "Well, Ramage, I'm sure the marquis and the other gentlemen would like to hear your views on the objective and the means of achieving it. . ."

Ramage looked round innocently at the marquis, who nodded vigorously.

"Oh, in that case . . . well, we are lucky because of course unlike our former Austrian allies, our objective is not the defeat of a French army but the release of several women hostages held by the French army.

"As long as the helpless role of 'hostage' is borne in mind, obviously there can be no direct frontal attack, otherwise the hostages would be killed out of hand.

"I think that was where General Cargill was being misunderstood: he was saying that French troops should be attacked from the front, but of course attacking the French troops is the last thing we want to do; after all, we are a band of rough sailors doing our best to rescue a group of women hostages. The wives of several of you gentlemen."

Neatly done, Sir Henry decided. Ramage was clever enough to see there was no advantage in hacking Cargill down with a cavalry sabre; instead he had slipped in a narrow-bladed stiletto. Now Cargill could not disagree with anything Ramage said without appearing both boorish and foolish.

Cargill took out a large silk handkerchief and mopped his face. "Hot in here, isn't it. Yes, Ramage, nothing you've said contradicts the canons of military tactics. You've no trained troops, anyway."

"No, indeed," Ramage said. "If I had, I would of course, with the Earl of Innes' approval, invite you to lead them."

The earl nodded and turned his face away quickly so that Cargill could not see his relief. He had no wish to assert his authority over Cargill in front of three admirals - he could just imagine the Secretary of State for War's comments when the news reached Dundas's office - but damnation, his own wife was one of the hostages, and no clod like Cargill, who'd never smelled powder, was going to put her life at risk.

This fellow Ramage had already marched three admirals, two generals, a marquis, a brace of earls, a viscount and a couple of heirs out of Castello at Giglio, signing a receipt for the French commandant with everyone smiling at each other, and not a pistol waved, let alone fired. Call that guile, chicanery, deception or whatever this dam' fool Cargill chose, but by any gentleman's measure it was a fine piece of cool bravery, and if the Earl of Blazey's son could do it again to get the women out safely, then Cargill had better keep out of the way.

The earl shook his head. Cargill was running true to form - a nouveau riche family had brought him promotion, so Cargill had never bothered to learn soldiering, other than primping in front of a mirror and then stamping and shouting his way round a parade ground. Typical of the man was the way he used a loud and abrasive voice to disguise his ignorance and shout down anyone who tried to argue.

Young Ramage obviously recognized the type and had cut Cargill down to size without ever raising his voice above a quiet conversational level. In fact Lord Ball, at this end of the table, had been sitting the whole time with his head forward, hand cupped behind his ear, just to hear what Ramage was saying.

Ramage held up a hand to attract Silkin. "You can begin serving," he said. To the men sitting round the table he said: "Gentlemen, a frigate's fare is of necessity sparse."

He does not apologize, Sir Henry noted, he just explains. The admiral happened to glance up and accidentally caught the Earl of Innes' eye. The earl's name stood second on the list of lieutenants-general; he would be a field marshal in the next lot of promotions. Cargill's name must be well down a list which included a couple of hundred majors-general. The earl was so much Cargill's superior in rank that the men sitting round the table could be forgiven for thinking Cargill was trying to commit professional suicide. In fact, Sir Henry guessed, the wretched Cargill was sublimely certain that he was making a great impression on Lieutenant-General the Earl of Innes. Come to think of it, he was. He imagined the earl drafting a report to the Horse Guards describing Cargill's conduct. No, it would not be done that way; the earl would simply make a comment, and that would be that. But that was all in the future: the earl could not visit the Horse Guards until all the present problems were solved; until wives were restored to husbands. For a moment he thought of the members of the Board sitting at the long, highly polished table in the Board Room at the Admiralty. They would not be conscious of the ticking of the Thomas Bradley clock just inside the door - a clock which had recorded the time since just after the Restoration. By now there would be a fire burning - and none of the members would recall (if they knew in the first place) that the back of the fireplace comprised a cast iron plate showing the arms of Charles II. Earl St Vincent would be sitting at the head of the table, with the windows overlooking the stables on his left, the fireplace and wall with the chart rollers on the right.