"Make a good job of it," Ramage said, irritated by the man's patronizing manner. "It's worth four shillings a day to you."
"I have my duty!"
"Then guard me welclass="underline" I'm a desperate man. Any moment I might jump over the side and elope with a mermaid."
The lieutenant looked at him blankly and left hurriedly. For a moment Ramage felt guilty about teasing him, but did the hen that pecked deserve any sympathy if the pecked hen suddenly pecked back?
An hour later Southwick arrived.
He had brought a uniform, fresh underwear, several pairs of silk stockings, a pair of highly polished boots and some carefully ironed stocks.
"If there's anything else you want, sir, tell me. Your steward reckons that will do for a couple of days."
"The trial will only last a day, and after that..."
"After that you'll get a new ship, sir," Southwick said stoutly.
"I hope so," Ramage said, realizing that the old Master was more in need of comfort than he was himself.
"I received your note, sir, and it's all arranged. The timing is important, I take it?"
"To the minute."
"Jackson's timed the boat from La Perla to the Arrogant by a route with no prying eyes to spoil the effect!"
"Good."
"I was worrying about the ballast, sir. Nothing laid down in the regulations, sir, Admiralty or Customs," Southwick said euphemistically, looking round and frowning, to indicate he was worrying about eavesdroppers and pointing to the pocket of one of the jackets he had brought with him.
"Exactly, so we needn't worry. With the charges I face, forgetting to fill in a form won't matter!"
"I suppose not," the Master said. "Will the 'ballast' help, sir?"
Ramage shrugged his shoulders. This was something he hoped he would be able to decide tonight, lying in his cot. Most of the time so far he had been receiving Admiral Goddard's broadsides; he needed the peace and quiet of his cot to decide where his own salvoes would be aimed. Did anyone get a share of the treasure trove, or did it all go to the Crown automatically? He could not find out without giving the game away.
Southwick said goodnight and Ramage sat at the tiny table to draft some headings for his defence. The trial was being brought on so quickly that he could demand a postponement to have more time. Obviously the charges against him had been prepared many days ago, when there seemed a chance that the Triton would limp in after the hurricane. That accounted for the speed with which the deputy judge advocate had produced the documents. A postponement would not help him, however, since it only increased the chances of Goddard discovering that Yorke and the French party were still alive. If he did, the charges would be changed.
He decided that he needed no notes, wiped the pen, folded the single sheet of paper and put it in his pocket, undressed and flopped down on the cot. He had eaten nothing since lunch, but felt too weary to try to get anything now. A moment later he was asleep.
Chapter Nineteen
Ramage woke with a steward standing beside his cot, a lantern in one hand and a tray in the other.
"Dawn, sir," the steward said cheerfully. "Wind from the north at five knots, and no cloud. Plenty of mosquitoes, though."
He hung the lantern from a hook in a beam overhead.
"I'll put your breakfast here on the table, sir. There's a jug of hot water for shaving and I'll go and get you some more water for washing. My hands were full."
Ramage grunted, rubbed his eyes and wondered why the officers for whom the steward worked had not trained him to bring washing and shaving water first, and breakfast later. He sat up and carefully swung himself out of the cot. The cabin was airless and hot, and his body felt greasy. His teeth seemed coated with wool, his mouth tasted as though he had been sucking a penny and he had a headache.
The steward brought in a basin of water, soap and towel, and Ramage had a brisk wash, then lathered his face and shaved with great care, using a broken mirror held to the bulkhead by three bent nails. He rinsed his face, wiped it, and slowly dressed, smoothing the wrinkles from the silk stockings, pulling on his breeches and tucking the tail of the shirt in with as much deliberation as a dowager dressing for a court ball. By the time he had tied his stock, combed his hair and sat down to his breakfast he had succeeded in keeping his mind closed to the thought of the forthcoming trial.
He sipped the coffee, almost cold by now, nibbled at some bread and left the rest of the food. Finally, he put the tray down on the deck and took the pen and paper out of his pocket.
He wrote "Defence" across the top of the page and underlined it carefully. No thoughts came to him, so he wrote out from memory the tenth Article of War, pleased that he could even remember all the capital letters.
"Every Flag Officer, Captain, and Commander in the Fleet, who, upon Signal or Order of Fight, or sight of any Ship or Ships which it may be his Duty to engage, or who, upon Likelihood of Engagement, shall not make the necessary Preparations for Fight, and shall not in his own Person, and according to his Place, encourage the inferior Officers and Men to fight courageously, shall suffer Death, or such other punishment ... a Court martial shall deem him to deserve; and if any Person in the Fleet shall treacherously or cowardly yield or cry for quarter, every Person so offending ... shall suffer death."
Good stirring stuff, Ramage thought bitterly, but what the devil had it to do with the fact that he had successfully beaten off the Peacock's attack on the Topaz?
Of course, it had none; but the Admiral was accusing him of not engaging the Peacock. Everyone would have to admit that in the darkness they saw the Triton's guns firing. By skilful questioning the Admiral could make the officers serving on board the Lion admit that they could not be sure how close the Triton was and that some of the flashes could have been from the Greyhound frigate. Did the Triton's crew fight courageously? Only the Triton's officers and men could answer that one, and who would believe their evidence? Obviously they would say that they had for fear they too would be charged under the past part of the same Article.
He began writing again, this time the twelfth Article of War.
"Every Person in the Fleet, who through Cowardice, Negligence, or Disaffection, shall in Time of Action withdraw or keep back, or not come into the Fight or Engagement, or shall not do his utmost to take or destroy every Ship which it shall be his Duty to engage, and to assist and relieve all and every of His Majesty's Ships, or those of His Allies, which it shall be his Duty to assist and relieve, every such Person so offending ... shall suffer death."
Well, that was really the trump card. It was the one under which Admiral John Byng had been accused in 1756; the one under which he was shot on the St George's quarterdeck.
The first Article was obviously intended to muzzle the Triton's officers - to discredit their evidence, anyway. The second was the one with which Goddard planned to hang him. Ramage remembered they'd intended to hang Admiral Byng, until the old man protested at the indignity and traded the rope for a Marine firing squad ...
It had been dark and the officers in the Lion could be made to say the Triton attacked the Peacock dangerously late and at long range. "Or keep back", the Article said. Engaging from a safe range was "keeping back". That was all Goddard had to prove, and without evidence from the Greyhound or the Topaz it wouldn't be difficult.
If Ramage managed to slip through all those traps there was still the twenty-seventh Article. He wrote down: