'We could do with the Passe Partout now, sir', Orsini said cautiously. As a rule midshipmen did not initiate conversations with captains, and Paolo was more than anxious that he should not appear to take advantage of the fact that the Marchesa was his aunt. The result was, of course, that he spoke to the captain less than if he had been a complete stranger.
'We could also do with another frigate', Ramage said sourly.
'But in these light airs, sir, a tartane...'
Ramage gave a sniff that he was sure Southwick would envy; a perfect blend of understanding Paolo's motives in making the remark, a superior knowledge of the sailing ability of tartanes in general and the Passe Partout in particular, and some information that Paolo did not possess.
'If I was the master of the Sarazine', Ramage said, 'I don't think I'd be bothered by any tartane in my wake.'
'But she has swivels, sir. Three-pounder shot whistling round your ears...'
'And the Sarazine has 9-pounders, and a stem that could cut the Passe Partout in half without scraping any paint...'
'Yes, sir', Paolo agreed regretfully. 'Still, the Passe Partout is keeping well up; she's only one ship astern of the Sarazine.'
'I've noticed that', Ramage said heavily. 'Fetch me the French signal book: it is in the binnacle drawer.'
Ramage glanced at it to check a signal, and said: 'Mr Martin - hoist the French signal for "The convoy is to take up close formation at once", and fire a gun to draw attention to it. Leave it hoisted until I give the word.' He handed the signal book to the lieutenant, pointing out the flags.
Three minutes later, with the flags hoisted, one of the Calypso's sternchase guns was fired. The smoke drifted forward over the quarterdeck and as it cleared Ramage looked at the French ships with his glass, shut it with a snap, and said to Martin: 'I'm going to my cabin. Pass the word if those mules pay any attention to the signal.'
As he sat down on the settee, remembering he had not filled in his journal for the previous day's events, Ramage knew that although Paolo wanted to get on board the Passe Partout simply because he was a young lad who dreamed of his own command, the fact was that Lewis would have the yard repaired by noon; it would be hoisted and the foresail bent on and the lead of the foretopsail sheets corrected by two o'clock at the latest, and it would be better if the convoy was in some sort of formation by then, rather than having the Calypso chasing round in light airs ...
The Passe Partout, according to Paolo, had a master, mate and four men on board. That, the boy admitted, was all he saw. So there would also be a cook, and perhaps another couple of men who were sleeping when Paolo was on board. Nine men, say a dozen at the most. The problem was not how to overpower a dozen men and seize the ship, but how to do it without fourteen other ships seeing it, getting alarmed and bolting.
He told the sentry to pass the word for Aitken, who arrived breathless, assuming something had gone wrong.
'No', Ramage assured him, 'quite to the contrary. It is just that we'll very soon need a sheepdog to yap at the convoy's heels.'
'Ah - that tartane, sir, the Passe Partout.'
'You've been listening to young Orsini!'
'Yes, sir, but I must admit I think she's the one I'd choose.'
'You're more concerned with sparing the fewest men for a prize crew', Ramage said teasingly.
'Aye, that's true, sir, but I can find a dozen without much strain.'
'And who would you put in command?' Ramage asked out of curïosity.
'Orsini, if we just want yapping at their heels; Martin if there are likely to be any serious decisions to be taken which he can't refer to you.'
'You have a good opinion of Martin.'
'Yes, sir, he'll go far. And he's having an excellent influence on Orsini. They work well together. That sort of thing is, in my experience, unusuaclass="underline" normally a midshipman wants to show off and a lieutenant won't listen to him. But they both like and trust each other, like a younger and older brother. Orsini has, well, I suppose it's a cosmopolitan view because of his background, and Martin is a fine seaman. Each wants to learn what the other has to offer - at least, that's my impression, sir.'
Ramage nodded because Aitken's opinion coincided with his own, though the Scot had phrased it more succinctly.
'So we want the tartane, then, and Martin can command it with Orsini as mate.'
'Night attack, sir?'
'No. We don't want them firing off those swivels and alarming the rest of the convoy. No, we must take her without a shot being fired, and the only way I can think of is this.' For the next fïve minutes Ramage gave Aitken his orders.
Within an hour of the men finishing their midday meal the great foreyard was hoisted, using the capstan to raise its fifteen hundredweight up the foremast. Running rigging was fitted and by the time the foretopsail sheets were properly rove, the foresail, the second largest sail in the ship, was lying at the foot of the mast ready to be hoisted and bent on.
The sail was made up of more than fifteen hundred square feet of canvas; along the head of the sail, where it would be laced to the yard, it measured within inches of fifty feet;along the curved foot it was a couple of feet less, while the luffs - the vertical sides - were thirty-one feet.
The sailmaker, bosun and his mates had already checked over the sail and made repairs, and Ramage was surprised how little damage it had suffered. Most of the tears had been vertical along the seams; the cloth had held while the stitching gave way. Reef points had been checked over and many replaced - not through damage but because of wear. Two reef cringles had also been replaced, along with all the bowline cringles on the starboard side of the sail.
Now fifty men were busy round the sail. Yard ropes were rove to the reef cringles; buntlines, running vertically along the sail and normally used for hauling it up to the yard for furling, were rove through their respective blocks which were once again secured to the yard.
Topmen went aloft and out along the yard; slowly the sail was hoisted up as Aitken shouted his orders through the speaking trumpet. Once the head of the sail reached the yard, lïke a great sheet being pegged out on a washing line, the topmen secured it, hauling the canvas taut. With that done, Aitken gave the orders to furl the sail, which was then hauled up to the yard, gathered like an enormous sausage, and secured with gaskets.
'The yard seems to sit well enough', Southwick commented to Ramage. 'As straight as before. Not so much spring in her, but she's bound to be stiffer where she's bolted and fished.'
'The yard is stronger than before, anyway', Ramage said dryly. 'She won't break there again!'
'You won't be setting stunsails for a while, sir?'
'No - why?'
'Lewis mentioned to me that - well, in the rush to get the yard repaired he hadn't noticed that the larboard stunsail boom is in two pieces, and he has to make a new one. Matter of an hour or so.'
'If that's all he's forgotten, he did a good job', Ramage said. 'Send for him and his mates: they deserve some praise - and some sleep, too.'
As soon as the men were lined up on the quarterdeck, Lewis standing a pace in front of them, Ramage thanked them briefly. More than a dozen words of praise had them shuffling with embarrassment, and Ramage could see that three or four of them were almost asleep on their feet, having been working on the yard for nearly twelve hours.
Once the carpenter had led his mates below, Ramage explained to Southwick his plan for the Passe Partout and the master chuckled. 'Ah, I wish I was a youngster again; they get all the fun.'
'You've had your share', Ramage said unsympathetically, 'and there'll be more to come before you go over the standing part of the foresheet.'