Ramage's Devil

'There is no need to go to the fort; we can negotiate here.'

'You command the garrison?'

'I command all three islands.'

'And you are?'

'General Beaupré.'

'Prove it.'

He was a solidly built man with a flowing black moustache and brown eyes that were friendly. Not at all what one expected of a jailer, Ramage decided.

'Lieutenant Miot!' Beaupré called.

'Oui, mon général?'

Ramage nodded. 'All right - you are a general. We negotiate. I have three French frigates, not two - the two farthest from us I captured recently, one last night and the other last week. The nearest I captured a couple of years ago and she is now commissioned into the Royal Navy.'

'You want to exchange something for the two frigates?' General Beaupré was incredulous.

'No, I was simply introducing you to the situation. L'Espoir, the frigate that arrived last night, was bringing you more than fifty déportés. '

'Yes, I guessed that. They would be kept on the other island.' He pointed. 'The Île du Diable is for déportés, who are of course political prisoners. The criminals are kept on Île St Joseph and here, on Île Royale.'

'I am not interested in the criminals,' Ramage said. 'I will exchange my prisoners, the men from L'Espoir and La Robuste, for all the déportés you have on the Île du Diable.'

The general's face fell. 'But I don't have any déportés!'

'Where are they?' Ramage demanded.

'With the treaty that ended the war, they were all sent back to France. Why should we detain them in peacetime? I have only criminals now. And what people they are. Every one of them, men and women, think nothing of murder! But déportés now, why that is absurd.'

'Because we are all at peace, eh?'

'Yes, of course,' the general said. 'When you mentioned déportés in L'Espoir - that was a slip of the tongue, was it not? You meant "convicts".'

Ramage shook his head slowly, angry with himself for not realizing. His note sent on shore earlier had merely said that the ships did not have la peste on board, that the shooting and shouting of the previous night had been caused by the capture of L'Espoir by men of the Royal Navy. Ramage had suggested a truce to discuss the disposal of French wounded and prisoners; he had forgotten the most important item of news.

'No, déportés. The war has started again.'

The general paled. 'War,' he muttered. 'I thought it was piracy. War ... I suppose L'Espoir also brought dispatches giving me the news.'

'I expect so,' Ramage said. 'We have not gone through all the papers yet. However, what about the exchange?'

The general faced Ramage squarely. 'I have no déportés. If you wish, we will visit the three islands and you can question any one you like. Convicts - yes, scores, and you are welcome to them. The déportés in L'Espoir would have been the first for a year, and the buildings for them on the Île du Diable are falling down - termites, white ants, the rain ... Nothing lasts, be it buildings or men. Termites or the black vomit,' he said hopelessly. 'We're all exiles here ... the convicts are locked up at night. But are their jailers free?'

He suddenly shook his head, apparently startled that he should have been confiding in not only a foreigner but now, apparently, an enemy.

He said: 'Shall we inspect this island first and then go to Diable and St Joseph? Once the sun gets up...'

Once the sun gets up these islands must be among the hottest, most unpleasant and unhealthy in the world, but that was not the reason Ramage shook his head. The general had obviously been speaking the truth about the déportés, and when the man rambled off on that brief soliloquy it was because he knew that a new war only prolonged his stay on the islands, where the sun, sea, the fevers and the swamps ensured that the jailer was as much a prisoner as the jailed.

'I accept your word,' Ramage said. 'Our boats will start landing the French wounded as soon as I return on board and give the order. Then we will land the French seamen we hold as prisoners, first from La Robuste and then from L'Espoir. All this under a flag of truce, eh?'

'A flag of truce,' the general echoed. 'You are being generous,' he admitted, 'since I have nothing to give you in return.'

Ramage was not about to tell him that prisoners were a confounded nuisance in a ship of war. 'Very well, then we are agreed.'

'Your name,' the general said. 'I read it on the letter. Of course you know it is a French word, too. But I know you by reputation. I can only hope you go back to La Manche: my countrymen would not welcome your arrival to Martinique or Guadeloupe...'

Ramage stood up from behind his desk and smiled at Aitken and Wagstaffe. 'Very well, then, each frigate is to keep a couple of cables apart by day, and one cable by night, and the rendezvous is Carlisle Bay, Barbados.'

'Thank you, sir,' Aitken said. 'Being L'Espoir's temporary first lieutenant is going to be good experience for Kenton.'

Southwick, who was staying in the Calypso with Ramage, laughed and commented to Wagstaffe: 'And young Orsini will learn a lot being your second and third lieutenant!'

Ramage said to Wagstaffe: 'Are you happy with just Martin and Orsini? Until we get up to Trinidad the wind can chop about.'

'We'll be all right, sir. Do you think the admiral there will buy 'em in?'

'Two frigates in good condition with no damage - except for a few nicks from pistol balls in one of them? I should think he'll be only too glad. You'll all be rich men!'

'They haven't done too badly up to now,' Southwick said. 'Enough in the Funds to retire as knights of the shire!'

'And you!' Wagstaffe exclaimed. 'Since you began serving with Mr Ramage, you've made enough money to buy ten taverns and ten breweries to supply them!'

'I'm not complaining,' Southwick said, and turning to Wagstaffe said seriously: 'You could let young Orsini think we shall be depending on his positions.'

Wagstaffe nodded. 'I'll let him think that, but I expect he'll come along with some workings that put us in the middle of the sugar cane in Demerara!'

As the two lieutenants left the cabin with Southwick, Ramage walked through to the coach, where a Frenchman was busy writing. 'Jean-Jacques, we sail in half an hour. Judging by the way that quill is bobbing, you've now recovered enough to tell me what happened when they arrested you in Brest.'

'Yes, yes,' the Frenchman agreed. 'But first you must tell me the - how do you say, "the butcher's bill"?'

'Yes, and it makes a sad story. L'Espoir had 127 officers and men on board when she anchored here last night, and fifty-four déportés. The captain and two of the three lieutenants were killed in our attack, and twenty-seven petty officers and seamen. Thirty-three more were wounded.'

'More than half of them killed or wounded,' Jean-Jacques said. 'They fought hard.'

Ramage was silent. The French had fought hard, but they knew they were fighting to survive. Most men tried to stay alive. The bravery came when you risked your life just to save others or obey orders. Jean-Jacques looked up at Ramage.

'Because we déportés were the cause, I hardly dare ask your casualties: it is like asking a man how many of his family have just been killed.'

'Eight killed and nineteen wounded. Three of the wounded won't see another sunset but the others will be standing a watch before we land you all at Portsmouth.'

'Sarah. You said last night that she was safe and well. I prayed that she would have come to no harm under my roof.'

'Gilbert and Louis...'

'Yes, they obeyed my orders. These other two, Auguste and Albert, tell me about them. I was too excited and too exhausted to understand about a ship called the Murex. A British brig, Gilbert said, and Sarah shot the man in command? Tell me,' he said anxiously, 'was that not... well, rather drastic?'