Croucher's voice had become louder as he tried to drown the snores of a dozing master and finally he held up his hands in despair. "Perhaps one of you could...?"
"George!" the nearest master bawled, nudging the sleeping man. "This fellow wants to 'ear 'imself talkin', even if we don't."
The Master straightened up, rubbed his eyes, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and growled, "Five hundred pounds or a year in jail, heard it all a'fore, scores o' times. And a hundred if he quits the convoy - it's all written here." He waved his copy. "Don't know why he's going on about it: must be trying to drum up business - he probably gets a percentage."
"Gentlemen!" exclaimed Croucher. "I have my duty to do, so please help me by being patient-"
"Yes, George," another master chided, "that was very unfair : it's the Admiral that gets the percentage."
"By another Act," Croucher said hurriedly, "as of course you are all aware, any master who shall desert or wilfully separate or depart from a convoy without leave obtained is liable to a penalty of one thousand pounds -"
"And fifteen hundred if he's carrying Naval stores," Yorke commented conversationally. "Curious how with a government cargo the penalty is always inversely proportional to the probable value."
"Be that as it may," Croucher said lamely, "I can only execute the laws-"
"And meanwhile the English language is executed - murdered, rather - by the constitutional lawyers who draft the wording of these laws."
"Please, Mr Yorke! Then we come to Every such master is liable to a penalty of £100 who, being in danger of being boarded or taken possession of by the Enemy, shall not make signals by firing guns, or otherwise to convey information to the rest of the convoy, as well as to the ships of war under the protection of which he is sailing -"
"They mean 'warn the rest of the convoy and escorts'."
"Of course they do!" Croucher exclaimed angrily.
"Then why not say it briefly and simply? Any fool can be verbose and obscure."
"Where was I? Oh yes - he is sailing; and in case of being boarded or taken possession of, shall not destroy all instructions confided to him relating to the convoy."
He is reading now, thought Ramage, like a dog scurrying past his master, fearful of being kicked. Having got so far without interruptions Croucher rushed on.
"At the bottom of the page, No lights are to be shewn on board any of the ships after ten o'clock at night-"
"It gets dark by seven o'clock in these latitudes," Yorke commented.
"Quite so," Croucher said coldly, looking round accusingly at his clerk. "There should have been a note to that effect written in just below my signature. Would you remember that, gentlemen? Seven o'clock, not ten. And for the rest - Great care is to be taken that no light be seen through the Cabin windows, as many mistakes may arise from them being taken for the commanding officer's lights or signals made."
"How true," Yorke said sadly with a shake of his head. "How very, very true."
Ramage put his handkerchief to his face to stifle a laugh but Croucher, oblivious to the irony, nodded in agreement.
"Well, gentlemen, the rest you know: page three - the signals are clear; page four - please watch for the section, The ships astern to make more sail. The signals you can make to the escorts are on page seven. Pages eight and nine - well, fog signals hardly apply. Night signals - yes, please use good lights, gentlemen; make sure your lamp trimmers are up to the mark. Finally, may I draw your attention to the memorandum on the back of the last page. All masters of merchant vessels to supply themselves with a quantity of False Fires to -"
The snoring again drowned his voice, and one of the masters shouted, "George, belay the snorin'."
"- to give the Alarm on the approach of any Enemy's Cruizer in the Night; or in the day to make the usual signal for an enemy. On being chased or discovering a suspicious vessel -"
"A 'suspicious vessel'!" Yorke said. "How can a vessel be suspicious! Bows up and stern down, I suppose, sniffing the air like a gun-dog." ###
"- vessel, and in the event of their capture being inevitable, either by day or night, the master is to cause the jeers, ties and haul yards to be cut and unrove, and their vessels to be so disabled as to prevent their being immediately capable of making sail. I think that just about covers everything," Croucher said, and flushed as Yorke said agreeably, "Oh indeed it does; both in the singular and the plural."
"Gentlemen, I think the Admiral..."
Croucher motioned to his clerk, who scurried out of the cabin. A minute or two later Goddard came back without looking at anyone, walked aft, stood against the bright glare of the stern lights and said:
"Captain Croucher has told you that we risk meeting privateers and rowing galleys, as well as French and Spanish ships of war, all along our route to Jamaica. It is a grave risk, gentlemen, and I'd be failing in my duty if I didn't give you a further warning: there is a good reason for supposing the French will make a determined attempt to attack this particular convoy. That answers the question some of you may have been asking yourselves - why the Lion, a ship of the line, is part of your escort."
The masters glanced at each other, trying to guess which of them commanded the ship carrying a cargo so valuable to the enemy, and Ramage too watched closely - the Master with the valuable cargo would not be curious. They all looked round, obviously puzzled, except for Yorke. He was watching Goddard with the same amused tolerance as before. But if Yorke's ship was of particular interest to the French he would surely look concerned even if not puzzled. There's probably no such ship or cargo, Ramage decided; Goddard is trying to scare the masters into keeping their positions - and to be fair, he is justified in using any lies, threats or stratagems to ensure that.
"Unfortunately," Goddard continued, "I have to give you a further warning. The Admiralty intended that five frigates should be waiting for us here in Barbados." He gave an irritated sniff, hinting at his disapproval of what was to follow. "Regrettably the senior officer on this station has only three frigates available. But remember, the main purpose of the escort is to defend you against attack. In other words, I don't want to be forever sending the frigates off over the horizon to round up laggards.
"If you value your lives, stay with the convoy. That means keeping a sharp lookout and not reducing sail at night. Most of you already know that the wind drops away nearly every night, and anyway, losing a sail is of little consequence when the alternative is losing your ship to the French rascals who'll be lurking around like wolves."
He's scared, Ramage thought to himself. A regular convoy would count itself lucky to have a couple of frigates to carry it to Kingston. He has three frigates, the Lion, a brig and a lugger. But scared of what? Losing a ship from a convoy meant trouble for the commander of the escort if he was a junior captain. Trouble with the Admiralty and a sheaf of protests from owners and underwriters. But a rear-admiral with Goddard's patronage coming out as the new second-in-command to Sir Pilcher Skinner at Jamaica could lose a quarter of the convoy without too many eyebrows being raised. A valuable cargo would probably be money to pay the troops and buy stores, and the Lion would be carrying it. What could be frightening him?
The probable answer was that Jebediah Arbuthnot Goddard, Rear-Admiral of the White, could handle a squadron of the King's ships, where every captain obeyed his signals instantly, or answered for the consequences under the Articles of War, but the prospect of trying to deal with forty-nine aggressive individualists, each of whom had probably thumbed his nose a dozen times at a frigate captain who'd ranged up close and fired a shot across his bow to try to force him to set more sail, daunted him.