Ramage's Devil

He was calling to the first lieutenant to have his boat ready when Wells came up the companionway, took one more look (a despairing look, it seemed to Ramage) and seeing his first lieutenant busy, called to the master to send a dozen topmen down into the boat without waiting for them to collect their gear.

'You will let me have them back?' he called after Ramage, as anxious as any captain to keep prime seamen.

'Yes - as soon as we're hove-to near the flagship. You can escort us down there!'

CHAPTER NINE

Reginald Edward Clinton, knight, vice-admiral of the blue, was a bachelor and, Ramage decided at first sight, every child's idea of what Father Christmas should look like. He was plump and round-faced, the red complexion contrasting with a pair of startlingly blue eyes, which rarely moved. The admiral had a habit of swivelling his whole head when he wanted to shift his gaze. The effect, Ramage decided, was like aiming a gun.

But Admiral Clinton was decisive. He listened to Ramage's story without interruption and then asked a series of questions, starting with those referring to the beginning of Ramage's visit to France and ending with a request for the numbers and rates of the French ships anchored in Brest. After writing down the figures and the state of readiness of each of them, he put the cap back on the inkwell, wiped the tip of his quill pen with a piece of cloth and said casually: 'You captured and then commanded the Calypso, didn't you?'

'Yes, sir. I still do - or did. She was being paid off and laid up at Chatham when I went on leave.'

'Hmm. Well, she wasn't actually paid off - the war was started again. In fact I have her with me. Commanded by a fellow called Bullivant.'

'Edward Bullivant, sir, son of the Navy Board contractor?'

'The same one,' the admiral said, his voice flat. 'What sort of officers did you have?'

'Not one I would change - indeed, sir, not one I would ever want to exchange.'

'Master?'

'A man called Southwick. He'd been with me from the time I was given my first command.'

'And the surgeon?' Clinton asked casually.

'A brilliant man. Used to have a practice in Wimpole Street.'

'Oh? Then why is he now simply a surgeon in a frigate?'

'Drink, sir. Lost all his patients. Came to sea.'

'That explains it all,' Clinton said, obviously relieved.

Ramage quickly decided to risk a snub. 'May I ask what it explains, sir?'

'Well, had a dam' strange signal from her at daybreak. Number 215 over her own pendant.'

Ramage thought for several moments. There were more than four hundred numbered signals in the book and 215 was not one he had ever seen hoisted or heard anyone refer to.

Clinton said: 'Number 215 means: The physician of the Fleet is to come to the Admiral. But hoisted over the Calypso's pendant numbers I assume she is trying to reverse it - asking for the physician of the fleet to go to the Calypso.'

Physician. Ramage realized the significance of the word. Most frigates and all ships of the line had surgeons, but physicians were different. There were between two and three hundred surgeons in the Navy but only three physicians - Dr Harness (who had given his name to a special sort of cask), Dr Trotter (who was a friend of Lord St Vincent) and Dr Travis. One of them would be on board this flagship.

'Why would she be wanting the physician?'Clinton asked, although it was obvious the question was rhetorical.

'The Signal Book, sir,' Ramage said. 'I don't think there is any signal for requesting medical assistance.'

'But why should she need it? Perhaps the surgeon has drunk himself stupid.'

Ramage realized that he had not completed his reference to Bowen. 'I think not, sir: his first ship was the Triton brig, which I commanded, and he stopped drinking.'

Clinton smiled benevolently: he was making allowances for the pride of a young captain.

'Not Bowen, sir- that's the surgeon. He was cured.'

'Who achieved that miracle?' Clinton demanded.

'Well, sir, the master and I saw him through the worst of it. As I said, he's a very intelligent man. A wonderful chess player.'

'Hmm -1 hope he isn't trying to make pawns of us. She has the same officers and ship's company; only Bullivant is new. What do you think is going on?'

Had Bowen started drinking again? Or been injured himself? In that case, Bullivant would have asked one of the other frigates to send over her surgeon.

'Where is the Calypso, sir? I did not see her.'

'Some distance up to the northwest, in company.with the Blackthorne frigate.'

'So she would be close enough to ask the Blackthorne to send over her surgeon?'

'Yes. The Blackthorne is nearer to us and relayed this strange signal. Who the devil would have thought up 215 over a pendant - it's clever, if they really need the physician of the fleet.'

'Or the physician's authority,' Ramage said and then realized that he had inadvertently spoken aloud what was only a random thought.

'What's that you say?' the admiral demanded. 'Authority? Medicine is what they want, I'd have thought.'

In for a penny, in for a pound, Ramage thought, and time was passing and he still had to persuade the admiral about L'Espoir. 'I was trying to see it from the Calypso's point of view, sir. Sickness, fractures - all these can be dealt with by a surgeon. I was trying to see what the physician of the fleet had that a surgeon would not have, and medically - with respect - there'd be nothing of consequence. But the physician of the fleet would have authority. He would be reporting direct to you, and he could act on your authority...'

'But what the devil does the Calypso want to bother me about?' Clinton growled. 'I don't care if the second lieutenant has just ruptured himself: that's why she has a surgeon. Can't be scurvy or anything like that - we left Plymouth only a couple of days ago.'

Southwick, Aitken, Bowen, young Paolo, Jackson, Stafford - Ramage felt a great nostalgia. The Admiralty (having no choice) had appointed a new captain to the Calypso, but she would always be his ship: he had captured her from the French, refitted her in the West Indies, chosen her new name, taken her into action ... He knew every man on board and had promoted most of the officers. Every seaman had been in action with him several times and people like Jackson, Stafford and Rossi had saved his life - and he theirs, for that matter.

'Sir, whatever it is, I'm sure it's serious and unusual. I know Bullivant only by report, but I do know my officers. The first lieutenant, Aitken, thought of the signaclass="underline" I'm sure of that. He's a very responsible young officer.' He remembered Clinton's slight accent and added: '- and comes from an old Scots family with naval connections.'

Clinton scratched his head, doubtful about something, although Ramage could not guess what. 'Let me think about it. Now, are we finished with this Murex mutiny business? I want a list of names of the mutineers, of course, and all the loyal seamen, and the warrant and commission officers, who can give evidence against them. The brig's first lieutenant can deal with that. The Navy Board will have the last Muster Book, so they can print up some posters naming these mutinous rascals. They'll have to serve in French and neutral ships, or starve, you'll see, and we'll catch 'em and stab 'em with a Bridport dagger, just like we did those villains from the Hermione.'

Admirals rarely used slang - at least, Ramage had not heard them - but 'Bridport dagger' was very appropriate. Some of the Navy's best rope, particularly hemp, came from the Dorset town of Bridport, and hemp was always used for the hangman's noose. The seamen, with their liking for the bizarre euphemism, had soon tied the town, the hemp, the noose and death into one tidy phrase.