It was then that the fact of the island's surrender really came home to him. The surrender agreement had been signed, the rebels and their privateer allies had been dealt with. Now it would be possible to leave the island with its Dutch garrison and sail for Jamaica, to report to Foxey - Foote about this latest addition to the British flag. He could take three or four privateers with him, and he might decide to burn the rest, just in case some of the Dutch took it into their heads to steal them - after all, Curacao had surrendered, but Britain was still at war with the Batavian Republic, not to mention France and Spain.
He marched along, cursing his blistered heels, aching shin muscles and dry throat, but the need to talk to the men at the half - hourly halts, making jokes, kept him wide awake. All the men brightened up as they came into the straight stretch of road leading to Amsterdam, now less than a mile away. His eyes seemed full of dust and ached from the glare they had been subjected to all day, but he was glad to see the masts of the Calypso above the roofs of the buildings.
Then, as the road turned so that he looked from another angle, he realized there was another set of masts to seaward of her. Another frigate was anchored in the channel almost next to her. He stopped, icy cold with sudden fear, and pulled open his telescope. Yes, a frigate with a Dutch flag. The missing Dutch reinforcements - and Maria's fiance - had arrived. Had she captured the almost helpless Calypso!
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Southwick was angry, puzzled and disbelieving. He told Ramage that soon after daylight he had received a letter - or, rather, he had opened a letter - from the Governor addressed to 'Captain Lord Ramage' saying that a Dutch frigate would be arriving in Amsterdam at noon, and that 'normal salutes will be fired'.
'"Normal salutes" indeed!' Southwick said crossly. 'I don't know who the Governor thinks he is, but that letter shows he's forgotten he's no longer the Governor, and how dare he give orders to one of the King's ships. Or, rather, the captain of the King's ship that's taken the island's surrender! As if we'd salute an enemy ship!'
'Not "orders", surely?" Ramage asked mildly.
'Orders, sir: you wait until I show you the letter. I have it locked up at the moment. The Delft- that's the frigate - will salute the Governor, then salute us, and we return gun for gun. The British flag will be hauled down half an hour before she comes in through the forts, and the flag of the Batavian Republic hoisted. We will not "commit any hostile act" against her, and so on. And the Dutch flags were still flying at sunset . . .'
'You'd better get me the letter,' Ramage said.
He had come on board weary and apprehensive. The Delft was anchored two hundred yards away towards the channel entrance and despite the Governor's letter Southwick had the Calypso's guns loaded, the few men on board had been sent to general quarters, and he had taken in on the spring to the anchor cable to turn the whole ship so that her starboard broadside was aimed at the Delft. It was not a noticeable move; the wind was holding the Calypso across the channel and she had to be turned only a point for all the guns to bear, and the spring was on the larboard side, away from the Delft. The Dutch flags on the forts: Ramage suspected that could be the most significant part of the whole business. Hoisting them in place of the British flags for an hour or so, so that the Delft came in and gave the former Governor a chance to explain the situation - yes, that made sense. Then the British flags should have been hoisted again.
Exactly what was the status of the Delft? That was a puzzle. She was a Dutch ship and therefore an enemy, and she had entered the main port of an island which had surrendered to the British, all of which made her a British prize. But the Dutch flags were flying, on the former Governor's orders, so the Delft's captain could claim that he did not know the British now controlled the island, and had the Dutch flags not been hoisted he would not have entered. And so the arguments could go on.
The fact was, Ramage decided, that the Governor (the former Governor, rather) had interfered in something that was not his concern. Unless . . . unless he was going back on the surrender terms, now that the Delft had come in - and, Ramage thought ruefully, now that the British had disposed of all the rebels and French privateersmen.
Southwick came up on deck with the letter and Ramage moved closer to the gangway lantern to read it. Shorn of its polite verbiage, it bore out the master's description, except that Southwick had not mentioned that under van Someren's signature was his own description, 'Governor'. In all official communications, especially in circumstances like these, every word was significant.
Ramage folded the' letter and put it in his pocket Aitken and the rest of the ship's officers were below, washing and shaving, while the seamen were washing on deck using head pumps and buckets, tired, but from the singing and joking, cheerful enough.
'I shall be calling on the former Governor. First I'm going to tidy myself. I want two boats rowing guard around us all night, and a third boat watching the Delft, from a discreet distance. Any sign of mischief, and it can burn a blue light. Two men at every gun on the starboard side, four lookouts, and plenty of flares ready: we can dazzle any would - be boarders, as well as see them.'
'Aye aye, sir,' Southwick said. 'We won't get caught napping.'
'And I want an officer in the boat watching the Delft. They're all short of sleep but that's unfortunate. A senior petty officer in each of the two other boats. Young Orsini can take a turn in one of them.'
With that Ramage went below. An hour later, washed, shaved and in a clean uniform, wearing polished shoes and a ceremonial sword, the former Governor's letter stowed carefully in a pocket, he was being announced at van Someren's residence.
The great drawing room was both hot and crowded: not because of the number of candles burning in the two chandeliers overhead and the candelabra and candlesticks which seemed to be placed at random on every table, but because of the number of people in the room.
Ramage stood at the big double doors, deliberately waiting for van Someren to step forward to greet him, and also to give himself time to see who else was in the room. Van Someren was having an animated talk with two Dutch naval officers, one of whom was probably the Delft's captain: two other Dutch officers, one Army and one Navy, were waiting three or four feet away, as though they were aides expecting to be called.
Major Lausser was over by the big windows, not in uniform and talking to Maria van Someren and her mother. There were half a dozen other men in the room, with their wives. Two were officers from the garrison, the others probably leading citizens. But it was immediately obvious to Ramage that Lausser, Maria and her mother looked thoroughly uncomfortable; embarrassed but, he felt, anxious to talk and pleased (relieved?) to see him.
Why was Lausser not with the former Governor? In the brief moment available to scan the room Ramage had the impression that Lausser was definitely excluded from van Someren's circle. It was hard to explain the impression but it was as tangible as a drop in the temperature.
Finally, deliberately finishing what he had been saying to the Delft's captain, van Someren walked over to Ramage, unsmiling and formal, condescending and giving the impression of a busy man being bothered by a trifle.
'My dear Ramage, I trust you've come to report on the success of your foray.'
Ramage bowed slightly. 'My compliments to your wife and daughter. I trust they are well?'