He stared down at the report that he had been writing: it was the third draft, and young Baker was waiting to leave for Barbados in La Mutine to deliver it to the Admiral. Describing the night attack on the Juno by the two schooners and their capture was no problem; using La Mutine as a flag of truce, and the Juno and the Créole to cut out the Surcouf was covered in four paragraphs. The warning that the French were expecting a convoy in a week took a couple of lines. He included the polite suggestion that the convoy could be a week early, in which case it could arrive any moment, or a week late. What was hard was trying to tell the Admiral he was getting the Surcouf ready for the voyage to Barbados without the wily old man guessing that he intended holding on to her until the last moment, so that he had two frigates to tackle the convoy. The Admiral could, and probably would, argue that Ramage should have used the Juno to tow her to Barbados, where many more men were available to get her ready, and that the two schooners could maintain a watch on Port Royal while the Juno was away, and that by the time the convoy was due the Juno would be back ...
There were other reasons, too, and Ramage hoped that Southwick, who had just returned on board after spending most of the night surveying the Surcouf, would confirm them. He picked up the pen and scratched out a sentence. It was always easier to fight an action than to write the dispatch about it.
He poured out a cup of tea and idly picked up the letter which was sealed with the arms of France and addressed to 'The Admiral Commanding the English Forces at Barbados', thought once more about opening it and decided for the fifth or sixth time to send it on to Admiral Davis for whom, Baker had told him, the Governor of Fort Royal had really intended it.
The French had finally honoured the flag of truce, though it had been necessary to send the French lieutenant on shore first. Baker said it had been a close-run affair. As soon as the French wounded had been taken on shore and the prisoners freed, the French authorities had wanted to seize the schooner and take Baker and his men prisoner. At that point the French lieutenant had unexpectedly intervened. He had described how Bowen had worked without sleep tending the French wounded; how Ramage had asked him to conduct the funeral service over the French dead; said that, as a French officer, he had agreed to the exchange and that he had come on shore in the first place on parole. If the authorities held the ship, he had said dramatically (and Baker had given a fair imitation of the gestures that went with it) he would regard himself as still a prisoner of the English. The French naval commander had finally come down to the beach and threatened to arrest the lieutenant for treason and mutiny; the lieutenant had said his honour and the honour of France was at stake, and that he would welcome being arrested because the news would eventually get back to the English. They would know then that he had not broken his word of honour and his parole but been forced into it by his own senior officers who should know better but apparently did not.
That, Baker said, had decided it. The lieutenant was hustled off, but half an hour later another officer came out and handed over the letter from the Governor and, with ill grace, said that if La Mutine was not under way within fifteen minutes the guns of Fort St Louis would open fire. Baker had asked for an assurance that the terms of the exchange of prisoners would be observed but the officer had said he knew nothing about it; he was an aide to the Governor and had been told only to deliver the letter. With that Baker had weighed and La Mutine had caught up with the two frigates before they had reached the Diamond.
Ramage heard footsteps on the companionway and a moment later Southwick knocked and bustled into the cabin, his eyes red-rirnmed, the flesh of his cheeks sagging with weariness, but in good spirits. He sat down in a chair with a groan, massaging his back, then when Ramage looked inquiringly he said hurriedly: 'Don't mention it to Bowen, sir; he'll only want to slap on a mustard plaister, and they don't do a damned bit o' good.'
'Well, how many plaisters does the Surcouf need?'
'None at all, sir,' Sauthwick said with a triumphant grin. 'She's ready to get under way the minute her sails are bent on.'
'Our spare suit - can we alter any of them to make them fit? Cut out some panels or sew on some more? Her yards look shorter than ours.'
'That's just it,' Southwick said gleefully, slapping his knee, 'all her sails are on board! Sails, clewlines, buntlines, blocks - everything! I reckon they were just about to get them up from the sail room when the best of her men and the first lieutenant were taken off and sent to the schooners.'
Ramage gave a sigh of relief. 'What about provisions, powder and water?'
Southwick dug into his pocket and pulled out a grimy sheet of paper, which he carefully smoothed out. I don't know what they intended to do with her, sir, but we know they stripped the other frigate to fit her out, and she's provisioned for three months at our establishment. I know the French usually have a ship's company half as large again as us, but ...’
'Perhaps they were going to send her back to France.'
'Could be, sir. Anyway the water's fresh, and from what the cooper says the casks were well scoured before they were filled. The powder is very good quality - the gunner says its as good as ours. Salt pork and salt beef, a lot o' rice, fresh bread - 1 swear it didn't leave the bakery more than a week ago. Not a weevil in it.'
'Have you made an official inventory yet?' Ramage inquired cautiously.
'Me, sir?' Southwick asked innocently. 'Oh, no, it'd take a week. No, I only had time to have a quick stroll through the ship with the purser, gunner, bos'n, carpenter and cooper. You didn't mention an official inventory. Proper inventories and survey, sir,' he said with an archness that would have done credit to a bishop's wife, take time: two or three days at least.'
'In the meantime,' Ramage said, as though talking to himself, 'any rogues oould go on board and plunder the ship: they could take off provisions, water, powder . . .'
'And rolls of canvas, firewood, new holystones - she has a score or more unused in the bos'n's store - new leather buckets, a complete set of surgical instruments, a dozen live sheep: oh dear me, sir, there's no telling what they could take if the prize crew weren't keeping a sharp lookout.'
It was a great temptation; the Juno could stay at sea for many extra weeks without provisioning; with several tons more fresh water, for instance, she would not have to go down to St Lucia or across to Barbados to fill her casks; the sail-maker would welcome the extra bolts of canvas . . . But it was risky: the problem would be to account for the extra stores in the Juno's books. If she was desperately short of water or powder or provisions, he would be justified in taking what he needed, but Rear-Admiral Davis knew the Juno was well-provisioned, so it became a matter of prize money. Everything on board the Surcouf would be valued, including the ship herself, and the Juno and her Captain would eventually get their share of the prize money, as would Rear-Admiral Davis. It would be a considerable amount, and by a bit of good fortune once the Admiral's eighth was deducted the rest would go to the Junos. Every British ship in sight at the time of the capture had a right to a share, but the only other British ships were the two captured schooners manned by Junos.