"The vendetta with this Admiral Goddard," St Cast asked - a wealth of meaning in the way he said "this" - "how did that begin?"
"My father's trial split the Navy. Most of the old admirals - those supporting the government - were against him, while the young officers were on his side because they wanted to change the old tactics."
"But the vendetta?"
"It's complicated! The officers forming the court-martial ... well, they were senior, and they knew the government could fall..."
"If they found him not guilty," Yorke commented, "they could say goodbye to further promotion."
Again Ramage shrugged. It was true; it was obvious; men as sophisticated as these three needed nothing spelled out.
"He was found guilty and dismissed the Service. The young officers protested, petitioned the King, fought the verdict - or, rather, the significance of the verdict - in Parliament, but to no purpose. There were five admirals and one captain forming the court. The captain was comparatively young but he had plenty of 'interest' - patronage in other words. His wife is a distant relative of the King...
"For reasons no one has ever understood," Ramage continued, "long after the trial was over, long after the government was saved and new elections had put them back in power and when the affair of Admiral the Earl of Blazey was a matter of history, this captain continued to attack my family in every way he could."
"And his name," Yorke said, "is Goddard."
St Cast's fingers tapped the arm of his chair. "Motives ... surely he must have reasons ... why?"
St Brieuc glanced up. "Pourquoi? I will tell you. First, he did what he thought would gain him favour. Afterwards it became a habit and later an obsession .. .Such men always become obsessed by something: religion, gambling, the mathematics of chance ... It gives them a purpose in life - something they previously lacked. In politics, certain insignificant cretins spend their lives constantly attacking a great man. When he falls - as he will, though not because of their efforts - they hope to reap a harvest. Do you agree?"
Ramage nodded slowly. "M'sieur ... I'd never thought of it as a habit or an obsession, but I think you are right."
St Brieuc also nodded, but Ramage had the feeling he had merely read his thoughts because he continued: "A vendetta is never more than a habit. Its victims, whichever side they're on, inherit it like an estate. The Montagues and the Capulets. Each family had an entailed legacy - a hatred for the other. Hatred or obsession is the easiest emotion to sustain because it feeds its own flames."
"Is it against your brothers, too?" asked Maxine.
"I am the only child."
"Against you alone, then."
"Against my father, through me."
"Have you no patrons?" her father asked.
"No, but a commodore -"
"A commodore!"exclaimed Yorke. "Why, you need at least a vice-admiral."
"As many as possible," Ramage said dryly, "but anyway, this commodore helps bring my story up to date."
"Ah, I can guess," Yorke exclaimed. "I take back what I said about commodores if this one's called Nelson."
"He is, but this was before the battle of Cape St Vincent."
"Come on," Yorke said impatiently, "the plot thickens!"
"In the Mediterranean," Ramage began, wondering quite where it had all started, conscious that he was being indiscreet, but feeling a great relief as he talked, "I was under Sir John Jervis's orders - he became the Earl of St Vincent after the Battle," he explained to the Frenchmen. "One or two things went wrong. I was court-martialled - on Admiral Goddard's orders."
"For what?" St Brieuc asked, his interest overcoming his tact.
"Cowardice," Ramage said in a flat voice.
"Were you a coward?" the girl asked, equally flatly.
"No."
"Then how could Admiral Goddard... ?"
"Another man did behave as a coward. He had to save his pride. Accusing me instead was a good solution as far as he and the Admiral were concerned. At the trial his cousin unexpectedly gave evidence against him and I was acquitted."
"Against him? He must have been an honest man to go against family ties," said St Cast.
"A woman, actually."
"Oh non!" the girl exclaimed. "Papa! It was Gianna, Papa, I remember the story now."
A dozen emotions chased across St Brieuc's face before he thought of looking at Ramage for confirmation.
"My lord," he said quietly, "was it the Marchesa di Volterra?"
Ramage nodded.
"Permit me the honour," said St Brieuc, holding out his hand. As they shook he explained, "We are old friends of her family."
"So are we," Ramage said, "in fact she is staying with my parents in England at this moment."
Maxine was watching him closely; Ramage felt she was undressing him. "So," she said, "you saved her from Buonaparte ... from under the hooves of the French horses."
"To coin an old phrase," Yorke said, "this really is a small world. We know the story of the Marchesa's rescue, my lord, but I don't think any of us understand why Admiral Goddard...?"
"He ordered the trial and sailed from Bastia, leaving Captain Croucher to be president of the court-"
"This same Croucher?"
"The same! In the middle of the trial, Commodore Nelson arrived and the trial had to stop because he ordered all the ships to sail."
"Could they not start it again?" asked St Cast.
"Fortunately no; legally the court was dispersed. And the Commodore reported the true facts to Sir John Jervis - I'd been under his orders - and the whole thing was dropped."
"The Commodore ordering the ships to sail," commented St Brieuc, "this was...?"
"Simply a coincidence."
"Ah, but he found out about the trial...?"
Ramage nodded.
"Justice sometimes waves in your direction, my lord. From what I hear, Commodore Nelson will be a powerful man one of these days ... The battle of Cape St Vincent..."
"Where Ramage turned the trick by preventing the Spanish from escaping. You must have been mad to think of throwing them into confusion by making their leading ship collide with your little cutter. But it worked, because Nelson and the rest of the Fleet were able to catch up!" Yorke interjected, adding cheerfully: "Ah well, as far as Goddard is concerned, Proprium humani ingenii est odisse quem laeseris."
St Brieuc nodded, looking at Ramage, and his daughter asked: "Translate please, Papa - my Latin ..."
As he searched for words, Yorke said: " 'It's human nature to hate someone you have hurt.' Virgil, was it not?"
Again St Brieuc nodded. "The men tried and wronged the father; now they attack the son. But - Audentis Fortunas iuvat!"
'"Fortune is ally to the brave' - let's hope so, eh?" Yorke said.
Ramage laughed. "More Virgil?"
"Yes," said St Brieuc. "But come, Mr Yorke. If his lordship is to sing for his supper, I think you ought to give him at least a hint that you do have supper to offer him! What about the champagne?"
Chapter Four
Ramage was hot when he sat down at the desk in his tiny cabin on board the Triton later that day. He was pleasantly drowsy from the champagne Yorke had produced and pleasantly bloated from a superb meal cooked by the French chef in the St Brieuc entourage.
The perspiration soaking his clothes and trickling down his face was not entirely due to the sun heating his box of a cabin. Warmth came in waves, as if a furnace door was opened, when he thought about the past couple of hours on board the Topaz-He was flushed with embarrassment for his behaviour.
My only excuse, he thought to himself, is that it's been months since I talked to intelligent and sophisticated people. And they are the first people outside the Service or the family with whom I've ever discussed the Goddard business. And, dammit, I feel all the better for it. Indiscreet I may have been, and Goddard and his cronies would call it disloyal, but somehow the idea of Goddard setting a trap for me doesn't seem so frightening now and I don't feel so damned lonely. There's nothing Yorke or the Frenchman can do; there's nothing anyone can do, short of wafting Goddard off to the Indian Ocean. He and Croucher have a free hand but maybe I can survive by staying wide awake...