"I fail to see how his suspicions could have been anything but vague, since he and the Peacock were at opposite ends of the convoy. But you failed to act on the report and you yourself had no suspicions at all. After all, it was you who let the Peacock join the convoy."
"Come now, Mr Yorke; how could you possibly know what action I took?"
"Come now, Admiral, I saw you signal to the nearest frigate to ask the Peacock if all was well on board. The master of the Peacock answered - quite truthfully, I am sure - that it was. My officers and I were expecting you to order the frigate to send a boarding party to investigate both the ships involved."
Ramage felt like singing: the sea was blue and so was the sky. Yorke might not be able to save him from Goddard in the long run. The Admiralty, Sir Pilcher Skinner, the Articles of War and tradition were agreed that, no matter what had happened, no admiral could be in the wrong if it meant putting a young lieutenant in the right. But Ramage valued Yorke's and the St Brieucs' verdict more than Goddard's or Croucher's.
Goddard sank into the chair Ramage had just vacated. He looked as though he had flinched from a blow, and the movement had toppled him over.
Yorke took a couple of steps towards him, holding out a white envelope with a heavy seal on it.
"This is addressed to you; it's from ... It concerns my freight."
Goddard snatched it, broke the seal and started reading. Slowly his heavy jowls sagged; slowly the redness in his face turned to white. At last he seemed to realize that he was in for a terrible beating.
"This is ridiculous. Most unfair. Please, Mr Yorke, I'm sure that when you explain everything to M. St Brieuc he will see fit to withdraw this complaint and decide not to deliver the other letter he mentions."
"Which letter?" Yorke asked, and Ramage guessed that the question was put only so that he could hear the reply.
"The ... the letter he has written to Lord Grenville. After all, the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs is hardly concerned ..."
"On the contrary, Admiral; when you think about it you'll realize that Lord Grenville is his only official channel of communication and is most concerned about his safety."
"I quite see that, Mr Yorke. My point is rather that I'm hoping you'll be able to persuade M'sieur - the writer of this letter - that there is no cause for complaint."
"With respect, Admiral," Yorke said, his voice still deceptively quiet, but choosing his words with care, "not only can I hold out no hope of so persuading him, but I'd be misleading you if I didn't warn you that I shall not attempt to do so since I fully agree with him."
"Come, come, Mr Yorke," Goddard said, his voice wheedling. "You know well enough that in battle chance plays a major part and ..."
"In battle, yes," Yorke said, like a relentless prosecutor setting out an unbeatable case. "But you were not in battle. The battle is separate and there is no complaint about how it was fought, thanks to Mr Ramage here. It was the whole sequence of events from Carlisle Bay, when you took this French privateer - pirate is a more accurate description - under your wing and assigned him the most perfect position in the convoy for carrying out his plan."
A few minutes ago Ramage had listened to Goddard distorting everything so that the blame fell on the Triton; now Yorke was outlining the same facts so that all the blame was back on Goddard's shoulders, and with it the implication that there might be treachery involved in the Peacock's presence in the convoy.
Goddard waved a helpless hand, physically as well as mentally beaten. Croucher looked away and Ramage wondered whether the wretched man was finally disgusted by his patron. With exquisite politeness, giving the impression that he had no idea the effect his words had already had on Goddard, Yorke said: "However, Admiral, there is one piece of good news that it will be an honour to give you."
Goddard's eyes lifted hopefully and Croucher turned back to look at Yorke.
"There is a second letter for Lord Grenville."
"Indeed, and what does that one say?" Goddard was trying to hide the hopeful note in his voice by being jocular.
"It will recommend to the Secretary of State that Lieutenant Lord Ramage be given 'signal recognition of his valour and alertness' - I am quoting the exact phrase in the letter - and asking Lord Grenville that the King should be informed. Our own King, I mean, of course."
Goddard glanced sourly at Ramage. "I am very flattered that this should happen to one of my young officers," he said heavily. "Naturally such recognition reflects on all the King's ships. May I be the first to congratulate you, Ramage? We are all very proud."
As Ramage clattered down the companionway to his cabin on board the Triton, acknowledged the Marine sentry's salute and ducked his head to avoid the low deck beams, he felt almost hysterically cheerful. He flung his hat on to the swinging cot and unbuckled his sword. Southwick followed him into the cabin and was waved to a chair as Ramage loosened his stock, sat at the desk and turned to the Master.
"Unbelievable, quite unbelievable."
Southwick grinned. "I thought as much, sir; I hadn't expected to see you quite as cheerful."
Ramage gave him an edited account of what had happened in the Admiral's cabin.
"Saw the Topaz go down to the flagship," Southwick said. "Must admit I thought the same as you: that Mr Yorke might try to lodge a complaint."
"Apart from us, the only one that comes out fairly well is the Raisonnable. The Admiral gave us the details of how she captured the second ship. I think what happened was that months ago the French heard the Lion would be carrying some very important passengers - people the Directory would like to get their hands on and silence forever. Unexpectedly, the passengers transferred to the Topaz - much more vulnerable than the Lion - before the convoy left Cork, and the French managed to send the Peacock to catch up with the convoy in Barbados, and join it.
"She had a couple of hundred extra men on board. Being in ballast she could carry plenty of water and provisions and they reckoned two hundred men would be enough to board the Topaz in the darkness, murder the passengers and escape again.
"In Barbados they found that joining the convoy was easy. The Peacock's skipper is a renegade Englishman, by the way, and he called on the Admiral with false papers. Later he decided to improve on his orders and capture the Topaz as well, taking the prisoners into Guadeloupe alive as hostages. He'd have been richer by a good prize and seems to be a greedy man. He decided to change his tactics with the new plan. The night before last he ranged up alongside the next ahead in the convoy and put a hundred men aboard her - that's when we saw the two ships alongside each other. There weren't six men on deck so he captured her without a shout, let alone a shot.
"Now he had half his men in this ship - the Harold and Marjorie - and half in the Peacock, ready to take the Topaz. He reckoned he'd come up the outside of the column with the Harold and Marjorie on the inside, so he could board the Topaz from both sides."
"How the devil did he expect to get away with it?"
"Come, come!" Ramage chided. "He nearly did, and if you'd been him you'd have expected to get away with it too. He probably decided he had to do it last night or tonight because Guadeloupe is so near. And I suspect he was worrying about this swell. So out of the column they come, and in a very short time they're alongside. Or should have been.