Would Aitken realize that he was now being ordered to attack the centre of the seaward side of the convoy so that at his approach two, and possibly three, of the frigates would bear up to fight him off, leaving only the leading frigate to drive off the Juno as she beat up through the Channel? Would he see what would happen if the Juno managed to avoid the leading frigate and suddenly attacked the convoy from the landward side? It would be a massacre, but by then the Surcouf would probably be a shambles. For a moment Ramage sympathized with an admiral with his flagship in the centre squadron who ordered the van or the rear squadron to make some apparently unexpected and dangerous attack and stayed in safety himself. Men would die and never know that they had been part of a larger plan. They might guess it, of course, because an admiral was responsible for the whole fleet, but how about the senior of two commanding officers, like himself and Aitken? How could Aitken be sure that Ramage was not deliberately giving him orders that would take the worst of the fighting off the Juno and leave most of it to the Surcouf?Aitken might have to fight off two or perhaps three frigates.
The Juno was now swinging round on the other tack; the helmsmen were turning the wheel, sheets and braces were being trimmed, and Ramage bent over the compass, shading it from the glare of the sun. He glanced up at Jackson, who nodded: the Juno was now sailing as fast and as close to the wind as possible, at right angles to the convoy's course. The lubber line on the compass was steady on north.
He looked across at the convoy, now broad on the Juno's starboard bow. The Surcouf had acknowledged his signals and he could see that she would be able to lay at the centre. But what the devil were the French frigates going to do? It looked as though they were going to stay in their present positions in relation to the convoy. Putting himself in the senior French captain's place, he was sure the plan at the moment was for the nearest two frigates to drive off the nearest enemy, without attempting to capture or destroy it.
From the French point of view this made sense: Fort Royal Bay was less than ten miles away round the Diamond headland. Four French frigates had only to keep two British frigates at bay for three hours - less, if they could persuade the merchantmen to set more canvas - and they would all be safe and have carried out their task of getting provisions to Martinique.
The colours, he thought irrelevantly: the almost harsh blue of the tropical sky, the deep blue of the sea which lightened as it closed the shore and, like the edge of a rainbow, merged into pale green along the sand of the beach. The inside of the Juno's bulwarks was a deep blood red; the guns shiny black and the sails aloft not the white of poems and songs but a faint tan, what an artist had once described as raw umber with a touch of burnt sienna.
Looking across at the convoy he was startled at the nearness of the leading frigate. It would be difficult indeed to explain that he had been attacked unawares because he was considering how much raw umber was mixed with burnt sienna ...
Then he saw two separate signals being hoisted in the French frigate. The Surcouf was a mile away from the seaward frigate. Any minute now he expected to see smoke pouring from them as they tried the range. Ramage was just estimating that the leading frigate was perhaps half a mile from the Juno when he saw all three frigates answering the signals.
Almost at once the frigates at the rear and on the quarter bore away slightly, obviously intending to drive off the Surcouf, while the leading frigate made a bold turn to starboard, to prevent the Juno getting between the convoy and the shore. The frigate which had stayed abreast of the leading ships now moved up to take the leading frigate's place at the head of the convoy.
'Most interesting,' Ramage heard a voice comment quietly, and he turned to find Bowen watching.
'It's our move,' Ramage said crisply, 'and perhaps a chessmaster like yourself can see it.' There were two or three minutes to spare and after that the pieces would start moving across the board with startling speed and confusion,
The Surgeon was shaking his head. 'No, sir, this isn't quite my kind of game.'
Ramage gestured to Southwick, to make sure he was ready for the Juno's next move. 'Remember your bishops, Mr Bowen,' he said with what seemed to the Surgeon a devilish, grin. 'The unexpected diagonal attack.'
The Master laughed drily and fingered the speaking trumpet. 'Aye, sir, the bishop might do it. Checkmate in three moves!'
The French frigate was turning even more inshore now as the Juno crossed ahead of the convoy and Ramage thought she would try to rake the Juno, firing her broadside into the British frigate's unprotected; bow. Every yard the French frigate sailed took her farther from the convoy, every yard she held on, hoping for that raking broadside, increased Ramage's chances of succeeding with his bishop's move. He glanced at Bowen and nodded towards the companionway. 'I know you'd like to watch, but you must stay alive to tend the casualties.'
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Time was slowing down now, and Ramage felt calm; he could understand Bowen's fascination with chess because here were eleven French pieces under attack from three British. And every moment that passed made him certain he could outmanoeuvre the leading French frigate because her captain was at this very moment making a very elementary mistake. He had started off correctly: the moment the Juno tacked across the convoy's course the Frenchman had realized that she might get between the shore and the convoy and had made the proper response, bearing up to cover the gap.
Then he had seen that he might be able to rake the Juno in the process. At some point in the last three or four minutes the Frenchman had forgotten that his prime task was to cover the gap, he had become obsessed with the idea of raking the Juno and to increase his chances of doing that he was now widening the gap he had been trying to close.
In the meantime the convoy was still lumbering through the Fours Channel. Ramage estimated that all seven merchant ships were just inside the circle he had pencilled on the chart as representing the effective range of the Juno and Ramage batteries but he decided to wait a few more minutes.
The French frigate was fine on the Juno's starboard bow and in a couple of minutes would be in a perfect position to rake her, but a quick glance at the compass showed Ramage that the centre of the convoy was bearing south-east by south. The second frigate was in position leading the convoy and keeping on a steady course through the Channel.
The first frigate was now almost dead ahead; her captain would have to wait another two minutes to be in a perfect position, firing a whole broadside into the bow of a ship which could not fire back. Now for the surprise Ramage thought to himself; it might save a few lives.
'Mr Southwick, we'll tack now, if you please, and tell the men at the starboard guns to get under cover and the larboard side to stand fast! Jackson, steady her on a course of south-east!'
The Master bellowed to the men at the braces and sheets, then shouted to the rest of the men to duck down beside the guns, the safest place when a raking broadside smashed roundshot through the bow and swept the decks.
The French frigate was still not quite dead ahead as the Juno's wheel was put over. Ramage could see every one of her larboard guns and pictured each French gun captain crouching, trigger line in his hand, waiting just one more moment before the Juno's bow came in sight.
Then the Juno began to swing fast as she tacked; swinging towards the French frigate's stern as she turned. Instead of an unprotected bow, the French gunners peering through the gunports would see the Juno's broadside guns.
Ramage took up his speaking trumpet. 'Larboard guns, stand by. Fire as your guns bear!'