'One frigate chasing another, eh?' commented Southwick.
And that meant the first frigate was probably British, steering for the Dido in the hope that she was British. A frigate running away from a frigate? Why did she not stand and fight? But a moment after Ramage puzzled over the question, Orsini hailed again.
'There's a third ship, her masts are just coming over the horizon.'
So the first frigate could be chased by two other frigates. That would explain why she was not standing and fighting: no one expected a single frigate to fight two others of equal or greater size.
'What do you make of it, sir?' asked Aitken.
'A British frigate being chased by a couple of French, and damned glad to see us ahead of her. They're praying we're British - they may have recognized us as British by the cut of our sails.'
Orsini hailed again. 'There's a fourth ship, bigger than the others. I think she's a ship of the line. She's following the frigates.'
One British frigate being chased by two French frigates and a ship of the line? The British ship was lucky to spot the Dido . . .
The question was, would she reach the Dido before the frigate just astern of her ranged up alongside and began pouring in broadsides and a lucky - unlucky, rather - shot brought down a mast?
Ramage realized he had prolonged the time before the Dido met the frigate by furling the courses, but if the Dido was going to have to fight off two frigates and a seventy-four - assuming the ship of the line was no bigger - she had to be prepared.
'Mr Southwick, go down and inspect the guns. Stop and have a word with that new fifth lieutenant - this may be the first time he's ever been in action, and he'll be a bit nervous.'
There was no need to worry about Kenton, Martin and Hilclass="underline" they had been in action enough times in the Calypso, although this would be the first time in the Dido. Still, the only difference was that the guns were bigger; the drill was the same.
Orsini hailed yet again: the last ship ahead was a seventy-four, and the second frigate was fast overhauling the first one. 'I think the first one is flying the private signal, but she's too far off to be sure.'
'Make sure the reply is bent on the halyards,' Ramage told Aitken. 'I don't want any delay in hoisting it when the time comes.'
Above him on the poop deck he could hear the guns' crews at work loading the carronades. Eight of them - four each side - might come in useful if there was any close fighting with the frigates, which were light and handy, much easier to manoeuvre than the heavy seventy-four. But for all that, one well aimed broadside from the Dido could wreck a frigate. With all his experience of the Calypso, Ramage found he could see just how the French frigate captains up ahead would be thinking when they saw the Dido was a seventy-four. It was an interesting situation - as soon as they got closer to the Dido would they reduce sail and wait for their seventy-four to catch up with them, leaving the seventy-four to engage the seventy-four?
They could not be blamed if they did: it was the convention that frigates engaged frigates and ships of the line engaged ships of the line - unless a ship of the line met a frigate, in which case the frigate could expect no mercy. That, he recalled ruefully, remembering his own experience, was when cunning counted more than firepower if the frigate was to escape.
He picked up the speaking trumpet and hailed Orsini. 'How far off is the first frigate?' He could see her from the deck but Orsini, up aloft, would be able to judge more accurately.
'The British frigate's a couple of miles but the second frigate is almost abreast of her. The seventy-four is about three miles, perhaps four, from us.'
Time was running out and ranges were getting shorter. Soon, he thought grimly, I shall be taking the Dido into action for the first time. It was a damned nuisance that it was not a clear-cut action with another seventy-four; having a couple of frigates thrown in as well complicated the issue, though with luck they would not be such a nuisance as the Calypso would have been in a similar situation. That was a pardonable conceit, he decided; after all, on her last voyage under his command she had been responsible for two French seventy-fours disabling themselves.
He lifted his telescope to his eye. Yes, he could see the first - presumably the British - frigate quite clearly now, and Orsini hailed again.
'The first frigate is flying the private signal, sir. Number sixty-three.'
'Mr Aitken, hoist the reply!'
The answer today was ninety-one, and quickly the two flags were hoisted, and Ramage added: 'And now our pendant numbers, Mr Aitken.'
Three more flags, representing the Dido's number in the List of the Navy, were hoisted.
Southwick, back from the gun deck, took off his hat, ran his fingers through his mop of white hair, and said: 'I'll wager he's thankful to see the right answer to the challenge. Now he's busy looking us up in the signal book. Not that he'll know you command her now.'
Southwick's compliment was matter-of-fact: the man was incapable of saying anything sycophantic. Ramage was startled to think that it might encourage another captain to find that his would-be rescuer was commanded by Captain Ramage. Yes, there had been several Gazette letters which printed his despatches, but he had never thought of the effect they might have on his fellow captains, or that they might be building up a reputation for him that affected the attitude of other captains. Admirals yes; he had already suffered once or twice from jealous admirals.
Orsini hailed again. 'She has just hoisted her pendant numbers: five seven three.'
Aitken snatched up the signal book and turned to the List of the Navy at the back. 'She's the Heron frigate, sir.'
Ramage saw through his telescope that the French frigate suddenly luffed up, and from the speckles of red erupting from her side, obviously had just fired a raking broadside into the British frigate. But as, wreathed in smoke, she resumed her course it was obvious that the manoeuvre had cost her a couple of hundred yards: she was now astern of the Heron again.
Ramage said: 'It's time to get Orsini down from aloft. Give him a hail - he can look after the poop.'
Southwick picked up the speaking trumpet and bellowed the order to Orsini, who hurried down the shrouds, still clutching a telescope.
Ramage could see now that the Heron was about a mile and a half away. She was steering north, hard on the wind, with the two French frigates close astern in her wake and the seventy-four a mile or so astern, and obviously intent on overhauling her. The Dido was still heading south with a quartering north-east wind. On this course she could collide with the Heron, so it would be easy enough to steer slightly to leeward of her - that would put him nicely to windward of the first French frigate, cutting her off from the Heron. What would the Heron do then - would she continue scampering off to the north or would she turn to help the Dido deal with the frigates? She would be silly to try to tackle the seventy-four, but Ramage knew he would be glad of her help in tackling the frigates, because there would not be much time before the French seventy-four was in the middle of the fight and probably taking up all the Dido's attention.
Which meant giving the Heron orders: he was startled to find that he would be the senior officer. It could be that the Heron was commanded by a grizzled old frigate captain whose commission was dated long before Ramage's, but he would not know it. The Heron's captain would instinctively obey orders signalled by a seventy-four, and that was all that mattered until this coming action was over.
It was time to get ready for the first broadsides. 'I'll have the guns run out, Mr Aitken, we'll be engaging first on the starboard side, so make sure the men are warned.'