Ramage

'Why?'

‘Well, if they stayed on shore they might be betrayed by peasants. I couldn't do anything to prevent that. But if I took them off in the boat I was reasonably certain I could weather a gale somehow or other.'

'Very well. Now for Count Pisano's complaint.'

'There's nothing much to say, sir. I went back and found his cousin dead, but Pisano doesn't believe that'

‘You've no witnesses.'

 'No, sir.. Oh yes, I have, though!' he exclaimed, realizing the Belette operation had driven all thought of Jackson's revelation from his memory.

Who is he?'

 'The Sibella's cox'n, an American named Jackson. I didn't know he'd seen the body after me. He didn't know of Pisano's allegations and didn't realize he had evidence of any importance. Anyway, sir, the Diadem's arrival interrupted his evidence.'

'When did you find out all this?'

‘We were talking on our way up to the Belette.'

 'A conspiracy? No,' the Commodore said, waving a hand to stop Ramage's protest 'I'm not saying you two were conspiring. I'm just pointing out that it could be said. Why do you suppose Count Pisano made the complaint against you?'

'To cover himself,' Ramage said bitterly. 'If he accuses me of failing in my duty by not going back, everyone forgets to ask him why he didn't go himself.'

'Not everyone,' Nelson said shortly. 'Now - what about the Belette? You've lost a lot of men?'

'Yes, thirteen dead and fifteen wounded. An error of judgement on my part, sir.'

'In what respect?'

 'I decided to rake the Belette and then wear round before her guns could bear.'

'And—'

‘We raked her all right, but I found I couldn't wear round in time: we were raked ourselves by her aftermost guns -1 didn't allow enough for the curve on her quarter.'

'And what do you think will happen to you now?'

 'To begin with, I imagine the court will reconvene and finish my trial, sir.'

 'You seem remarkably ignorant of the Court Martial Statutes, Lieutenant, and remarkably unobservant.'

 Ramage looked puzzled and the Commodore said, 'Once a court has dispersed, it can never be reconvened. And you have failed to notice that the Trumpeter is not in the anchorage.'

'Well, I suppose you'll order another trial, sir.'

 'Perhaps. Follow me,' he ordered, walking through the door and into the great cabin.

Gianna was standing against one of the great stern lights. She was wearing her usual black travelling cloak thrown back over the shoulders to reveal the red lining, and a high-waisted pearl-grey dress. She was watching him anxiously, her lips moist and slightly parted.

 On her left a heavily built man with a short, square beard sat in a chair, clasping a walking stick between his knees. The stick was thick - he must be lame, Ramage thought, and then noticed that the left ankle appeared to be in plaster. The man was handsome, but the finely cut features did not hide that he was hard, tough and possibly ruthless. He was Italian: that much was certain from his face, but the clothes he was wearing - a dark grey coat, yellow waistcoat and pale-grey breeches -were not his, or else he had a bad tailor.

At that moment Ramage, speechless with surprise, looked at Gianna and saw she was glancing at the man with affection, almost adoration. The man was smiling at her with love in his eyes.

 The shock was, for Ramage, almost physicaclass="underline" this must be a fiance. Where the devil had he come from? Gianna had never mentioned him - yet there was no reason why she should, he thought bitterly.

 The Commodore, apparently blissfully unaware of the tension gripping Ramage, was talking. He'd apparently introduced the seated man, who made an attempt to stand up, but Ramage motioned him to remain seated and walked over and shook his hand. The grip was firm; the smile on the face was friendly and genuine.

Ramage turned to Gianna, took her hand and lifted it to his lips, and then swung round to face Commodore Nelson without looking at her again.

 The Commodore was obviously in jovial mood: he slapped his knee and exclaimed:

'How about that, Ramage, eh?'

Ramage looked puzzled.

'Bit of a surprise, eh? Dead men do tell tales after all!’

The other three were laughing. Was the Commodore one of these blasted practical jokers?

The Italian said, We have almost met before, Tenente.'

'You have the advantage of me, sir,' Ramage said coolly.

 Everyone seemed to be talking in riddles. It's Gianna's turn to have a dig now, he thought sourly, involuntarily glancing at her.

She looked as if he had just slapped her face.

'Nicholas! Nicholas!'

 She almost ran the four or five paces separating them, and gripped his arm with her left hand. 'It's Antonio! Don't you understand?'

She was almost in tears. No, he didn't understand, nor did he care about Antonio: he simply wanted to kiss her, but instead gently pushed her away.

'Antonio, Nicholas! Antonio — my cousin: Count Pitti!

 The cabin slowly began moving round him; in a moment it was spinning and Gianna held him tightly, otherwise he would have fallen. A few seconds later the Commodore and Gianna were helping him to a chair while Pitti, now standing helplessly and leaning on his stick, kept repeating, 'What happened? What is wrong?'

 Ramage saw that exploded face, the shattered bones and remains of the teeth silvery-white in the moonlight, the torn flesh and slopping blood, black and caked in the sand. Yet Pisano had been right: Count Pitti was alive after all. God -no wonder no one believed he had gone back. But Jackson ...

 God damn and blast them alclass="underline" he dragged himself out of the chair, conscious his brow was wet with cold perspiration, and asked the Commodore:

'May I return to my ship, sir?'

Nelson looked puzzled but promptly said: ‘No - sit down.'

 Ramage almost slid into the chair: there was no strength in his knees and tiredness was adding its quota to help fuddle his brain. If only they'd leave him alone.

 Suddenly he realized Gianna was kneeling beside him, talking softly, and the agony and bewilderment in her face stabbed into his consciousness like a dagger.

'But it is all right now,' she was saying. 'It is all right, Nico - e finito, cara mia!’

The Commodore interrupted:

 'Mr Ramage has received a shock. My little surprise seems to have misfired and he deserves an explanation. Count Pitti, perhaps you would oblige - and please be seated,' he added, pushing a chair towards him.

Pitti sat down heavily.

'Allora, Tenente, you remember you met us on the track leading to the Tower? Well, when you and Gianna ran over the dunes towards the sea, my cousin Pisano and I, with the two peasants, went on to the Tower along the track and then up on to the dunes.

 'I was worried about Gianna and stopped on top of the dunes to look back. I saw several French cavalry galloping along the beach towards you. It seemed impossible for either of you to avoid being killed. Then suddenly, at the last moment, a man ran out of the bushes and down the side of the dune, charging the cavalrymen and shouting so loud he frightened the horses.'

'Yes,' Ramage nodded. 'That was my cox'n, Jackson.'

'Well, I watched you pick up Gianna and run towards the boat at the end of the dunes. But at that moment two or three French soldiers, who must have galloped along the track and left their horses by the Tower, suddenly appeared behind me -between me and the Tower.

 'I ran into the bushes and the soldiers followed, but they had to split up because the bushes were so thick.

‘1 had almost reached the end of the dunes, running in and out of the bushes like a rabbit, when I slipped in the sand as I crossed a clearing — you remember how soft it was - and broke my ankle. I managed to crawl under a bush a few moments before a French soldier appeared in the clearing. He stopped - I think he saw the marks I had made in the sand.