"If there was nothing unusual, why did you send a lookout aloft?"
A good question, Ramage thought to himself.
"I did say 'so unusual' sir. I sent a man aloft because I saw she'd set her courses, but -"
"Why had she set her courses?" Croucher interrupted.
"To attack the Topaz, sir," Ramage said evenly. "I know that now, but I could hardly be expected to know that at the time."
"Why not? She was the obvious target!"
"Indeed?" Ramage pretended surprise and could not resist adding: "I had no idea, sir, and as far as I knew the Peacock was an ordinary merchantman the Admiral had allowed to join the convoy."
Goddard waved a hand at Croucher, as if telling him to be quiet.
"You couldn't know," he said. "It wouldn't have mattered if the Peacock's next ahead" - he broke off, realizing that was a bad example - "or any other ship for that matter - had been the target: you should have warned me."
Ramage could see the way that Goddard was shaping his defence. He would tell the Admiralty that Lieutenant Ramage had known all about the attack but had not told him. Very well, he thought, you have a fight on your hands, and here goes the first broadside: "I had already warned you, sir: I'd told you all I knew."
"You did what?" Goddard exclaimed.
"I warned you, sir."
"D'you hear that, Croucher?" he asked sarcastically. "Lieutenant Ramage had already warned me!"
Croucher knew what Ramage meant, and tried to tell the Admiral - "I think I underst -"
"But he says he warned me, my dear Croucher: have you ever heard such impudence?"
"The letter, sir," Croucher said lamely
"The letter?"
Ramage said, "My written report, sir: the one I delivered yesterday morning."
"Oh that," Goddard said, dismissing it with a shrug. "You could hardly expect me to pay any attention to that, could you?"
"Yes, sir," Ramage said, his voice toneless, but rubbing the scar over his brow. "That's why I made it in writing and had it delivered on board..."
"Rubbish, pure rubbish; I don't even know where it is, now." 1 have a copy on board, sir," Ramage said unambiguously.
“You're not telling me your report said the Peacock would attack the Topaz, are you?"
Goddard bellowed with laughter, but Croucher's expression was wooden. Ramage had the feeling Croucher did not like the way the interview was going.
"No, sir, I merely reported all I knew. That was all anyone could know until the Peacock went alongside the Topaz."
"Balderdash, my boy; sheer balderdash. What the devil did you think the Peacock was going to do when she hauled her wind?"
"Possibly leave the convoy, sir. After all, she was supposed to be a runner from England to Barbados. She might have got impatient at the slow speed; she might have started to worry over this increasing swell and wanted to get into Jamaica quickly for fear of a hurricane."
"But she came right down the column."
"Yes, sir, and as soon as I couldn't find a reasonable explanation for her conduct, and when we sighted the second ship also coming up the inside of the column, we went into action."
"Much, much too late to do any good."
"Hardly, sir," Ramage reminded him politely. "We saved the Topaz."
"You were lucky, Ramage, and don't you damn well forget it."
"If you think-"
A knock on the door saved Ramage from an angry and insolent reply. Croucher called and a lieutenant came in to report to him.
"The Topaz left her position, and now she's close to windward, sir. She's not flying any signals but they're getting ready to hoist out a boat. I think..."
"Very well," Croucher said. "I'll be on deck in a minute or two."
As soon as the lieutenant had left Croucher looked at the Admiral questioningly, and he and Goddard walked out of the cabin, leaving Ramage standing by the desk.
Ramage was angry about the tone of Goddard's questioning - although it had been predictable - but, alone in the cabin, he found he had a vague feeling of uncertainty. Had he really been slow to guess the Peacock's, intentions? Should he have ignored the need for surprise and set off a few false fires to raise an alarm, or fired some rockets or a couple of guns?
If he had done so, and then found the Peacock was simply leaving the convoy, he'd have looked foolish, and Goddard could rightly have blamed him for giving the convoy's position away to the enemy. As he thought about it, he realized that his present uncertainty was not entirely due to the Admiral. He wanted to know what Yorke thought about it. Was he angry about the Triton's, late arrival? He might be. Yorke knew, as the Admiral did not, that Ramage was aware that the Topaz carried the "valuable cargo".
The more he thought about it, the more certain he became that Yorke - and the St Brieucs - must think he'd let them down. Originally they had been pleased to hear that the Triton was to be close to them, yet they'd been attacked from that very direction. Out of the darkness a ship full of privateersmen had appeared and as far as they knew Ramage had seen nothing until the last moment. To them it must have seemed lamentably late.
Perhaps Yorke was coming on board to make an official complaint. As the minutes passed, Ramage became more and more certain of it. He imagined a written complaint to the Admiral, signed by St Brieuc: Goddard would find that invaluable in hammering nails into Ramage's coffin.
Ramage suddenly sat down in the nearest chair: his knees no longer had any strength. The skin of his face was cold and covered in perspiration; his stomach felt as if cold water was swilling around inside it. The sun streaming in through the stern lights was now just a harsh glare; there was no joy or beauty in the blue of the sea or the sky: it was all without purpose. Doubts, questions, half answers and more doubts chased through his mind like mice in a treadmill; his hands were clenched as if to let go meant he'd fall into limbo. He had no idea whether time was passing quickly or slowly until he heard loud voices.
Suddenly the door was flung open by Croucher and Goddard strode in past him, looking back over his shoulder and saying angrily, "I resent the implication, sir; I resent it, I say."
"I've no doubt you do, Admiral; I think I'd resent it if you didn't."
Yorke's voice was calm but cold and Ramage realized the Lion must have luffed up, backed a topsail, let Yorke get on board, and got under way again without him noticing. He stood up but Goddard, whose face was swollen with rage and shiny with perspiration, did not notice him.
"Dammit, Mr Yorke; how was I to know the Peacock was French?"
"It wasn't hard to guess: every man in my ship was suspicious of her. She's obviously foreign built; those sails were never stitched in an English loft, and Lieutenant Ramage had warned you that she was behaving oddly the night before."
Ramage glanced up in surprise: how on earth had Yorke guessed that?
Goddard was equally startled. "Mr Yorke, you can't possibly know anything about Mr Ramage's activities!"
"But he did warn you, didn't he, Admiral? I heard his lookout hailing the deck the night before and I presume the Triton's boat delivered his report yesterday morning. But why don't we ask him, since he's here?" Yorke's voice was mocking.
Goddard glanced round in surprise and Ramage realized that he was so disturbed by Yorke that he had forgotten his cabin was not empty.
"By all means. He did make some sort of report, but it was only vague suspicions."