Gianna. No one knew if she had arrived in Volterra or not. The Herveys confirmed that she had left Paris safely, but that accounted for only the first steps on a long journey. Then, while he and Sarah had honeymooned in France, the war had started again, and with it went the last chance of knowing about Gianna.
Daydreaming again, and now the French ship was hull-up on the horizon. He looked with his glass. Yes, backed foretopsail and lying there like a gull on the water, rising and falling as the crests and troughs of the swell waves slid beneath her and carried on westward. Sails in good condition. French national colours hoisted. Guns not run out. A hoist of flags at the foretopmasthead, probably her pendant numbers identifying her.
It might work. Surprise, that great ally, could quadruple one's apparent size (or quarter them if you're the one surprised). But he would have to do it himself: it was unfortunate that Aitken did not speak good French.
He beckoned Aitken and Southwick closer and explained his plan. He then told Southwick to call Jackson down from aloft - he was not needed as a lookout any more. Southwick gestured down to the maindeck. 'Stafford and Rossi, sir? And one or two of those Frenchmen?'
They were all serving at the same gun, and the Calypso was not short of men. Auguste and his brother could be useful. Gilbert and Louis would be too clumsy. Ramage told the master the names and ordered him to be ready to hoist out a boat.
Formality: oddly enough, that would eventually save time. It might trip him up, too, but a boat cloak too would be normal and hide much. 'Orsini,' he said, 'fetch my sword and boat cloak from the great cabin. Get your own boat cloak too. I see you have your dirk!'
Paolo grinned and nodded as he turned to the companion way. The dirk, a short sword two feet two inches long and, as he readily admitted, little more than a broad-bladed dagger, was one of his proudest possessions, but despite that he was a realist and usually carried a seaman's cutlass as well, using the dirk as a main gauche. Ramage guessed he dreamed of the day when he exchanged the midshipman's dirk for a lieutenant's sword, with its elaborate hilt.
The main and forecourses were being clewed up. Seamen hurried to hook the stay tackle on to the cutter, ready to hoist it out. Jackson waited until the last tie was undone and the canvas cover pulled clear before, as the captain's coxswain, climbing into the boat to check over the oars, rudder and tiller, pull the bung from the small water breaker lashed beneath one of the thwarts and confirm that it was full of fresh water, and finally put the large bung in the boat itself: it was normally left out to drain rainwater.
Stafford and Rossi were already up on the gangway with Auguste and Albert, cutlass belts over their shoulders and pistols stuck in their belts, but Ramage guessed from their stance that the two Frenchmen were puzzled and bewildered because Gilbert's translation of the instruction to arm themselves and go to the gangway with Rossi and Stafford would have been the only orders they received.
At that moment Paolo appeared, a sword in one hand and two boat cloaks slung over the other arm. 'Put them down there, beside the capstan. Now, listen a moment,' Ramage said.
Quickly he outlined what had happened so far - which Paolo had seen anyway as the Calypso rapidly approached the unknown frigate - and added his intentions. 'Now, go and tell those two Frenchmen what they need to know. It's time you polished your French.'
After that everything happened with the speed of an impatient child shaking the coloured chips in a kaleidoscope. The ship once ahead was now fine on the starboard bow and men had left the guns to stand by at the sheets and braces controlling the foretopsail and yard. Jackson had the cutter's crew mustered on the starboard gangway. The boat would be hoisted out on the weather side, so everyone would have to work fast, but the lee side would be open to too many prying French eyes.
He lifted the glass and looked at the ship and was startled to see that she was close enough for him to notice the uniforms (or lack of them) on the quarterdeck. He glanced at Aitken, who already had the speaking trumpet to his mouth while Southwick stood by the quartermaster close to the wheel.
The wheel began to spin and the Calypso's bow started to swing slowly to starboard to put her on a curving course bringing her close to windward of the French frigate. Sails began slatting while Ramage put the telescope in the binnacle drawer, picked up his sword and clipped it on to the belt, and slung the cloak over one shoulder. He thought a moment and then flattened his hat and put it under his left arm. Paolo followed his example and, with the sails thundering aloft as the ship swung and the great foretopsail was backed, the two of them went down the steps to the gangway.
The ship slowly came to a stop, the wind now blowing on the foreside of the foretopsail, and the cutter swung out and over the side. Wagstaffe gave a brief order here and there but mostly used hand signals. In a few moments the boat was in the water, the bow held by the painter while the sternfast kept the boat close in to the rope ladder which had been unrolled over the ship's side.
Jackson was first down the ladder, the wind catching his sandy hair, and before Rossi, who had followed him, had jumped into the boat, the American was shipping the rudder and the tiller. The rest of the men scrambled down, the last one followed by Orsini.
'Here!' Ramage shouted, throwing down to Jackson his rolled-up boat cloak, with the hat inside. The coxswain waited until Ramage was on board and sitting in the sternsheets and then pulled the boat cloak round him to hide his uniform. Ramage pushed his sword to one side to make the wooden grating a more comfortable seat, and then watched the enormous bulk of the Calypso seeming to move sideways as the men at the oars rowed the cutter clear.
Jackson eventually put the tiller over so that the cutter passed under the French frigate's stern to come along her lee side. 'La Robuste, sir,' he commented. The name meant nothing to Ramage. He counted up the gunports. Sixteen this side, so she was a 32-gun frigate. About the same size as the Calypso but not built from the same plans: her sheer was flatter, her fo'c'sle was longer, and he had the impression her transom raked more sharply.
Ramage saw several faces looking down at him over the taffrail and gave a cheery wave, which the men answered enthusiastically. He glanced at Paolo sitting opposite him. The lad had a wide grin on his face: no sign of any doubts or fears.
Suddenly every damned thing seemed to be happening at once, Ramage thought, and then realized it was his own fault because he would let his concentration wander. The cutter's bowman had hooked on with his boathook and while men pulled and hauled to secure painter and sternfast, Ramage stood up to find that the French had also unrolled a rope ladder, so he did not have the nail-breaking and finger-twisting climb up the battens. He pushed his sword round under his boat cloak and clutched his hat, guessing that no one on La Robuste's deck would recognize it for what it was.
He leapt for the ladder and immediately started climbing, glad that Paolo was only a couple of rungs below him because his weight stopped each wooden slat trying to swing inwards. More jerks followed as the rest of the men followed and this was the moment of danger: would any of the French officers look down past Ramage and Orsini and notice that the seamen were carrying cutlasses? Ramage let his boat cloak flow out.
Up, up, up - now his eyes at deck level; four more steps and he was on the deck itself with four men standing in a half circle to greet him - presumably the captain and three lieutenants.
Ramage paused, punched his cocked hat into shape, jammed it on his head and, undoing the buckle of his boat cloak, swirled it off and tossed it to Jackson, who was now standing beside Paolo at the entryport.
'Captain Ramage, of His Britannic Majesty's frigate Calypso at your service,' he said in French to the heavily-jowled and sallow-faced man with iron-grey hair who seemed to be the captain.
'Britannic?' the man muttered disbelievingly. He was a stocky man who had seemed taller than Ramage, but as he turned to look at the Calypso hove-to close by he protested: 'She is flying no -' he stopped and then, arms extended and palms uppermost, he said angrily: 'When she first hove-to she had no colours. She is French-built. Naturally, I think she is French.'
Ramage shrugged his shoulders and smiled. 'You are free to think whatever you like.'
The Frenchman's shrug made Ramage's look like a feeble twitch. 'Of course, of course.' He introduced himself. 'Citizen Robilliard, commanding the French national frigate La Robuste, at your service. May I -'
As he turned to introduce his officers, Ramage interrupted him calmly. 'Citizen Robilliard, a moment please. You are now the former captain of the former French frigate La Robuste, which is now a prize to His Britannic Majesty's frigate Calypso...'
'But... mon Dieu, citizen,' Robilliard protested, 'the war is over. It is all finished. We are friends. Where have you been that you do not know?' He slapped his thigh and started to roar with laughter. 'Ah, it is the English humour! You make a joke because -' he saw Ramage's face and his voice tailed off. He took a deep breath. 'No, you don't make a joke, Captain Ramage. You come from Europe. We have just come from the Batavian Republic. You have news...'
Suddenly Ramage felt sorry for this amiable man, whose accent showed he had grown up not far from Honfleur.
'Yes, hostilities have begun again. Brest is blockaded - my ship is part of that fleet.'
'And you are bound ...'
'... for the West Indies,' Ramage said. 'Now, m'sieu, you and your ship's company must consider yourselves my prisoners.'
'But this is absurd,' Robilliard protested, and then looked in the direction of Ramage's pointing finger. The Calypso's guns were run out while the French guns were still secured, well lashed down and ready for bad weather.
Ramage said to Paolo in Italian: 'Collect papers, charts and signal books from his cabin. Take a couple of men with you.'
Robilliard scratched his head, still unwilling to accept what he had heard. 'I can't believe this. You have documents? A newspaper - Le Moniteur, perhaps? There must be a written declaration - you just come on board and tell me that you have taken my ship prize! Why no!' he exclaimed, as though suddenly losing his temper. 'You are just pirates!'
'You are familiar with Brest?'
Robilliard nodded his head cautiously. 'I was blockaded in there for three years.'
'When did you sail?'
'As soon as the peace was signed. In fact we carried the dispatches informing the governor of the Batavian Republic'
Ramage beckoned to Auguste and Albert. 'These two men can tell you the names of all the important ships in Brest three weeks ago, as well as the names of the Navy and Army commandants, and answer any questions you care to ask. They are French. I was in Brest until after the war began; I can give you a certain amount of information.'
Auguste said: 'It's all true, citizen. The English ambassador left Paris, war began and Bonaparte arrested all the English in France, whether officers on leave or women. Bonaparte now makes war on women.'
Robilliard flushed and then said angrily to Ramage: 'This is ridiculous. Why, I could seize you, and then your ship would never dare open fire for fear of killing you!'
A series of metallic clicks made him look round and he was startled to find that three seamen, Jackson, Stafford and Rossi, were standing close with broad grins on their faces and pistols aimed at Robilliard, and each man swung a cutlass as a parson might use his walking stick to knock the head off a dandelion.
'Captain,' Ramage said, 'we are wasting time, my ship would certainly open fire if necessary, my second-in-command has strict orders about that. But you would not be alive to hear the first broadside that might kill me. You have been tricked by the perfidious English, captain, just as I was tricked by the perfidious French less
