Ramage began cursing to himself. He had left London full of enthusiasm and hope: he had said goodbye to Sarah and his parents thinking (he admitted it honestly) that with any luck he would be returning in something approaching triumph.
But now he would be going back in disgrace: when he arrived in Palace Street and they asked him what had happened (expecting a cheery reply) he would answer that he was due back in Chatham (or Portsmouth or Plymouth) to face a court-martial. Perhaps, he thought idly, Admiral Collingwood would instead send him down to Gibraltar to face a triaclass="underline" there it should not be difficult to muster the five post-captains necessary to convene a court-martial.
And now Jackson was rounding up the cutter: the bowman hooked on and Ramage made a lunge for the manropes, jumping on to a batten as the cutter lifted on the top of a swell wave and paused a second. Many an officer arrived on the quarterdeck with his boots full of water because he jumped in the trough and was caught by the next crest.
Up, up, up ... he climbed the battens, hauling on the manropes, and suddenly he was at the entryport, with a smiling Blackwood and another man, presumably his first lieutenant.
"My dear Ramage," Blackwood said, "a lot has happened since I last saw you! Congratulations on wrecking that 74!"
Ramage mustered a modest grin and thought: why mention Le Brave and ignore the frigate? A hint of what was in store?
"Yes," Ramage said, "he just followed us without looking at his chart. Forgot he drew several feet more!"
"You didn't, though," Blackwood said heartily and waited while the first lieutenant helped Ramage take off his oilskins. "Oh, what happened to you?" Blackwood asked, seeing the bandage.
"Just a cut; a bang on the head, in fact."
Blackwood asked sombrely: "Have you heard the news?"
"Not heard, but guessed. What happened?"
"A sharpshooter hit His Lordship as he walked the quarterdeck with Hardy. He died several hours later. Not in great pain, thank God." Blackwood looked down at the deck. "He knew he would be killed. His last words to me before I left the Victory were that he would never see me again. He wasn't sad; just a comment, as though he might have been remarking on the weather. Anyway, Admiral Collingwood is waiting . . ."
"How many?" Ramage asked.
"As far as we can make out, seventeen ships captured and the eighteenth blown up. Just two short of Lord Nelson's target. Not counting your frigate: just ships of the line."
Ramage nodded and followed Blackwood as he led the way to the coach, where Admiral Collingwood was now being accommodated.
The admiral, grey with tiredness, stood up and held out his hand. "Ah, Ramage, I'm sorry to have to bring you over in this weather, but I can't wait any longer. What have you done to your head?"
Ramage said briefly that he had a slight wound, but he felt chilly. Did the admiral regard the Hasard affair as that serious? With eighteen enemy ships captured or destroyed? What a victory - and, damnation take it, planned by Lord Nelson but with only Collingwood surviving to get the credit!
"By the way," Collingwood said tonelessly, "that frigate you captured. Under whose orders were you acting?"
"Er - well, sir, I had no orders actually to -"
"To break the line?" Collingwood asked.
"No sir. There was a gap, with the French frigate beyond, so I just followed the Britannia, and -"
"You just happened to run up alongside this other frigate and she surrendered?"
"Yes, sir," Ramage said, knowing it was hopeless to begin to explain (and not being quite sure, even after five days, why he had done it).
"What's her name?"
"The Hasard, sir."
"How many men did you lose?"
"Eight dead and seventeen wounded."
"And the enemy?"
"Nineteen dead and thirty-three wounded, sir."
"Ah," Collingwood said enigmatically. He walked over to the desk and sat down. Blackwood, still in the cabin, was staring down at the deck planking, as though fascinated by the grain of the wood.
Collingwood opened a drawer, took out several sheets of paper and shuffled through them. Then he took the cap off the inkwell, wiped his quill on a piece of cloth, dipped into the ink, and wrote a few words.
He then took up the sand dredge, shook some on to the wet writing and, as soon as it was dry, tapped the paper. He then folded it again and gave it to Blackwood. "Have your clerk seal it carefully."
He looked at Ramage. His was not a face that hinted of a friendly nature, and his voice, still with the Northumberland burr, was remote.
"Well, Ramage, you disobeyed - flouted is perhaps the better word - orders: you flouted the custom that frigates do not get involved in the line of battle, going so far as to break through it. And Captain Blackwood tells me that off Cadiz you lured a French 74 on to a shoal where she was wrecked."
"Yes, sir," Ramage agreed.
"You were not acting upon Captain Blackwood's orders then either?"
"The Euryalus was too far away to see what was happening, and Captain Blackwood would not have known about the proximity of the shoal, sir."
By now Ramage had realized that the court-martial would try him on two counts - both the Hasard and Le Brave. It seemed you couldn't do a damn thing in this man's Navy without having a senior officer in sight signalling orders . . .
"Your senior officer is always conveniently out of range, Ramage," Admiral Collingwood said.
But, damnation take it, senior officers in sight or out, I'll wager Le Brave and the Hasard will be included in the score you report to My Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty, Ramage thought angrily.
Collingwood suddenly smiled. "My congratulations over Le Brave. I'll make no comment for the time being over the Hasard. However, in my despatch to Their Lordships on the battle I have included your action against the 74, and you saw me write in the details of the Hasard."
A startled Ramage stared at Collingwood and then mumbled: "Thank you, sir."
Collingwood gestured to Ramage to sit down, seating himself at the desk. "You realize that carrying the despatch concerning this battle back to Their Lordships is a great honour, and normally I would have chosen Captain Blackwood and this ship. But I cannot spare him, and when I look round for another frigate I find one commanded by a young junior captain who pays scant regard to orders or custom. However, I have the choice of sending you back with the despatch or court-martialling you, and I really cannot spare five captains for a trial, so you'd better make the best of your way to the Admiralty."
Ramage sighed. "Thank you, sir," he said, and there seemed little else to say.
"There is one important point," Collingwood said. "The Admiralty must be the first to know - of the battle and the death of Lord Nelson. Wherever you land in England, you will anchor off and have yourself rowed on shore by a trustworthy boat's crew who will return to the ship immediately. Your first lieutenant will allow no one on board or on shore for a suitable number of days, depending where you land. You realize that anyone having this news before the government announces it could make several fortunes in the City of London?"
Ramage nodded. Yes, someone could buy up shares at a low price and sell them high when the market went up on the good news. Consols would leap up ...
"And Ramage," Collingwood said, a smile on his face, "you can describe in detail how you stranded Le Brave, but I should add some embellishments to the tale of the Hasard: some admirals may not agree with the way I've dealt with the matter."