It was hard to understand but it was a fact. Any officer with designs on a woman's virtue was more likely to be successful if he could get her on board one of the King's ships for a couple of hours than he would be in a couple of hours of her company in an elegant drawing room. Stockholm tar was, apparently, more romantic than the perfume of roses; the faint smell of a ship o' war's bilge outbid any pomander filled with all the aromatic spices specially mixed by a knowing Cupid or procurer. The train of thought which took him from the sight of a boat bearing foreign army officers to thoughts of seduction on the quarterdeck showed him that he had been at sea too long ...
Now Aitken was at the entry port, leaning out and giving orders. Seamen forward were taking a boat's painter; more men farther aft were throwing down a line to be used as a sternfast. As he walked slowly forward Ramage hoped that, whoever the visitors were, they spoke English or had brought a translator with them: he did not speak a word of Dutch. Or perhaps one of them spoke French (or even Spanish, a hangover from Spain's long occupation). The Netherlands, he admitted, was a country about which he knew very little; in fact, like most Royal Navy officers, his knowledge was limited to a healthy respect for the Dutch both as seamen and fighters.
A black shako with a red, white and blue cockade and a small peak (too small to keep the sun out of the wearer's eyes), a blue tailcoat which had each side of the tail turned back and buttoned to show a white lining, a high collar with white piping round the edge, white epaulets with two red stripes along them, aiguillettes, blue breeches, high brown boots - and no sword. Ramage watched as the young officer scrambled up the last few steps and stepped on to the gangway. There he stopped, obviously a stranger to ships. Then he saw Aitken and, recognizing him as an officer, was about to speak, but the first lieutenant gestured towards Ramage.
As the officer walked a few steps towards him Ramage saw another head at the break in the bulwark. The fat man was sending his aides on ahead!
'You are the captain, sir?'
The English was good, slightly guttural.
As Ramage nodded the young Dutch officer came smartly to attention and saluted, giving his name, which Ramage did not catch as he returned the salute. By now the second officer had arrived and took the place of the first, who stepped two paces to his left and said something in Dutch which resulted in another smart salute. Ramage gave his own name but cursed himself for failing to catch the second officer's name, though it sounded something like Lausser.
The second officer, a little older than the first and obviously his senior, said carefully: 'Captain Ramage, we come under a flag of truce, and His Excellency Governor van Someren wishes to pay you a visit.'
'Where is Governor van Someren?' Ramage asked, wondering about the plump man still down in the boat.
'He is waiting,' the Dutch officer said warily. 'He wishes to be assured that you will observe the flag of truce.'
'You have my assurance,' Ramage said formally. The truce will of course end once your boat is safely back in Amsterdam.'
That is agreeable, sir. If you will excuse me for a minute.'
He did not move until Ramage, for a moment expecting him to turn away at once, nodded his approval. With that the officer walked to the break in the bulwark and called down something in rapid Dutch, and then waited.
The two highest sideboys holding out the manropes were obviously taking a strain; then a stocky man with high cheekbones and widely - spaced blue eyes with thin white eyebrows was stepping on board. His face was shaded by a straw hat; he wore a mustard - coloured coat and matching breeches with highly - polished brown knee - boots. His skin was tanned; he was used to the Tropics. He was not nervous, but he was not entirely at ease either: he had obviously come to ask for something.
That was as much as Ramage could absorb before the officer had led him over to Ramage and said: 'Governor, may I introduce Captain Ramage of His Britannic Majesty's Navy. Captain Ramage, I have the honour to present His Excellency the Governor of Curacao and the representative here of the Batavian Republic, Citizen Gottlieb van Someren.'
Protocol demanded a salute and Ramage gave it. Governor van Someren removed his hat and gave a deep bow, but not before Ramage noted the flicker of annoyance which had shown round his eyes when his aide introduced him as 'Citizen'. No doubt when the House of Nassau ruled the Netherlands - until February of 1793, in other words - van Someren had been one of the Dutch nobility. Since then he had managed to keep his head on his shoulders while the. occupying French renamed his country the Republic of the United Provinces and then, more recently, the Batavian Republic. Now, anyway, in public and in front of strangers, he had to be 'citoyen'. Now what? The Governor replaced his hat but the two aides were still rigidly at attention. Did the Governor speak English? Whatever it was, he was more likely to speak freely if he did not have witnesses of his own nation.
'Should we go below. Your Excellency? My cabin is cool.'
"Very well, very well,' van Someren said thankfully.
Ramage signalled to Aitken and said with an apparent casualness that he knew the Scot would immediately understand: 'Perhaps you would be kind enough to show these two gentlemen round the ship, and then provide them with refreshment.' Then, before either of them could demur, he said to the Governor: 'If Your Excellency would follow me . . .'
Down in the cabin, van Someren sank into the single armchair with a sigh of relief, though Ramage was not sure whether the relief came from getting the weight off swollen feet or boarding the Calypso without incident.
As Ramage sat down on the settee opposite, van Someren said conversationally: "What happened to the French frigate?'
'You would like some refreshment, Your Excellency? A rum punch, perhaps?'
Van Someren shook his head impatiently. Thank you, nothing. The French frigate?'
Ramage inspected his nails. 'I understood from your aide - what was his name?'
'Lausser, Major Lausser.'
' - that you were visiting this ship under a flag of truce . . .'
'But I am, lam!'
'One might get the impression,', Ramage said almost dreamily, clearly absorbed with his nails, that you are in fact conducting an unarmed reconnaissance.'
'My dear Lord Ramage - you see, I know who you are - I am merely asking a polite question. However, if you do not care to answer . . .'
'According to my information, the Dutch - the Batavian Republic, if you prefer the term - are at war with Britain and they are allies of France, which is also at war with Britain. You, sir, are my enemy, so perhaps you will forgive me for not supplying you with news of your allies."
'You captured her,' van Someren said, and Ramage was startled to hear the satisfaction in his voice. 'You captured her and you've sent her off to Jamaica with your other ship, the little schooner, escorting her.'
Dutch lookouts along the coast could have seen everything, of course; indeed, they obviously had reported to the Governor, who was perhaps curious to know how it had been done, because his informants would also have noted the lack of gunfire and smoke.
'If I can be of some service to Your Excellency while you are on board under a flag of truce,' Ramage said heavily, 'please feel free to mention it.'
Van Someren's eyes twinkled and he slapped his knee. 'Lord Ramage, we can do business. Or, rather, we can do business if you have definitely disposed of that French frigate. She was not expected here and she was sighted only about the time you saw her. But I must be assured you captured her. Without that assurance I can do or say nothing more.'