Jackson, Rossi and Stafford were on the fo'c'sle, squatting in the shade of the flying jib with their backs against the carriage of a 6-pounder. Three other seamen sprawled on the deck near them and apparently asleep were in fact listening to the conversation.
Stafford, the Cockney locksmith swept up by the press-gang - "a good man lost to the burglin' profession" as he often boasted - had been comparing the beauty of Spanish and Italian women with the English, more especially those from London. Rossi had been putting forward the claims of the ladies of Genoa, while Thomas Jackson, the only American on board, delivered a verdict that the women of southern Europe were usually too fat while those from north were too thin.
"The Marquesa's an exception, " he declared.
"She's the loveliest lady I ever saw, " Stafford admitted. "Don't know why the Captain don't marry 'er."
"Ah, it hardly seems yesterday when we rescued her, " Jackson said nostalgically.
One of the seamen sat up. "When you what?"
"Ah, you Invincibles, you don't know nothing, " Stafford jeered. "You mean to say you've never 'eard 'ow Jacko rescued a queen from under the 'ooves of Boney's cavalry?"
With that the other two sat up. "No, " said one of them, "a real queen? Don't believe it! "
"She's not called a queen but she rules her own country, " Jackson said. "Volterra's the place, in Italy. We were sent in a frigate to rescue her as Boney's troops marched south, only we were sunk and we ended up fetching her off in a boat."
"And she and the Captain - he was only a lieutenant then - went and fell in love, " Stafford added.
"And very nice too, " said one of the new men from the Invincible. "But like you was saying, why ain't they got married?"
"Accidente! " Rossi exclaimed indignantly. "If I marry all the women I love, I have a hundred wives! "
"Where's this lady now, then?" the seaman asked.
"Staying with the Captain's family, " Jackson explained. "His father's got a big estate down in Cornwall."
"I pity her, then, " the seaman commented. "That Cornish lingo: I can't never understand what they'm saying."
"Yorkshire, that's where you come from, " Stafford said accusingly. "An' you talk about a lingo! "
"Lancashire, " the man replied triumphantly. "Shows how much you know! "
"You'd better be learning Spanish, " Jackson said. "We'll need it soon, from what I hear."
"Why we have to go an' chase out a lot o' murderin' mutineers I don't know, " Stafford grumbled.
"Aye, there's a lot you don't know, " the Lancashire seaman said. "There ain't a mutineer left on board the Jocasta; she's full of Spaniards. Three 'oondred or more; that was the scuttlebutt when we left the Invincible, and a narrow entrance to Santa Cruz with three forts an 'oondreds of guns."
"You people measure everything by the "’oondred', " Jackson said dryly. "Mr Ramage always divides the opposition by ten . . ."
"Your Mr Ramage is goin' to be the scapegoat; that's what I 'eard, " another seaman said. "That there Captain Eames is the Admiral's favourite and he made a mess of it without even trying. But your chap is going to be the one that'll be put on the beach with half-pay when the Admiralty hears he's failed. Leastways, that's what I heard, " he added hurriedly. "Seems unfair but there's no tellin' with officers."
"Speakin' of officers, " one of the other seamen said, "the First Lieutenant seems all right."
"One o' the best, " Stafford said emphatically. "Same goes for Wagstaffe and Baker. The new Fourth Lieutenant, Kenton - don't know about 'im, 'e's only been on board a few days."
"This little midshipman - he's a foreigner, ain't he?"
"Foreigner?" Rossi exclaimed. "Accidente, he's Italian. And so am I! "
"I couldn't have guessed, " the seaman said with a grin.
"Mr Orsini - he's the Marchesa's nephew, " Jackson explained. "A good lad. We're proud of him, " he added, giving a gentle warning. "He's a proper terror when we go into action . . ."
"He'll need to be, and the rest of us."
"Sounds to me as though you Invincibles are scared of Santa Cruz, " Stafford said.
"Aye - and rightly so. You'll see."
The Cockney shrugged his shoulders. "Would you attack a Spanish ship of the line wiv a cutter?"
"'Course not! "
"We did, " Stafford said flatly. "Leastways, Mr Ramage did and we was on board."
"You're joking! "
"I 'ain't - ask Jacko and Rosey."
"What 'appened?"
"We was sunk."
"There you are! Must be barmy, your Mr Ramage."
Stafford sighed, as if losing patience with men of such feeble understanding. "The Spaniard was captured - and another ship of the line, too. All because of us. Mr Ramage, rather."
The seaman flopped back on the deck. "Maybe so, but your Mr Ramage is going to 'ave to work miracles at Santa Cruz."
"Look, " Jackson said sternly, "you can stop this 'your Mr Ramage' talk. He's your Captain as well, now. Don't forget the Jocastas mutinied because their captain flogged 'em by the score. I've been with Mr Ramage since afore he got his first command, and he's only ever flogged two men . . ."
"All right, all right. Just wait until you see Santa Cruz, Jacko. It'll make yer blood run cold."
The first sight of the Spanish Main was a distant view of the grey-blue hump of Punta Penas, a hundred miles to the east of Santa Cruz and one of the entrances of the great Gulf of Paria, which separated the island of Trinidad from the mainland.
Southwick shut his telescope with a snap. "A long time since I last clapped eyes on the Dragon's Mouth, " he commented to Ramage. "A good name for it, too: the currents in there are bad, and you can lose the wind in the lee of the island."
Ramage, preoccupied, said sourly: "Well, it doesn't concern us. I think we'll reverse our course until dusk - we don't want to be sighted yet."
Southwick had long since given up trying to guess his Captain's plans: when he was good and ready Mr Ramage would tell him how he proposed cutting out the Jocasta and expect any criticisms or suggestions to be made without hesitation. As he turned away to give the orders to wear the ship and steer back towards Grenada, the Master suspected that at the moment Mr Ramage had no plan.
He bellowed orders that sent men running towards the sheets and braces controlling the great sails. A quick instruction to the quartermaster set the wheel spinning and soon the Calypso was steering north-east on the starboard tack, sailing along her original track.
Mr Ramage was thinking hard but he had no plan: that much was clear to Southwick, who watched him pacing up and down. Then he stopped and stared at the horizon, and rubbed the older of the two scars over his right eyebrow. That confirmed it as far as Southwick was concerned: he rubbed that scar only when he was angry or puzzled, and there was nothing to make him angry.
Southwick watched him as he began walking the quarterdeck again. He was beginning to look like his father: the same easy stride, the wide shoulders, the hands clasped behind his back. His face was maturing too; those brown eyes were more deep-set now and there were tiny wrinkles at the outboard ends of his eyebrows. He was a younger version of his father but with his own sense of humour. He had a disconcerting habit of saying something peculiar with a straight face. If you were not careful you found yourself agreeing before you hauled in what he had said. He had not joked much since the trial of the mutineers, however. It had changed him, but Southwick was hard put to know if it was permanent. He was just the same with the men, he watched all sailhandling with the same sharp eye, he was the same with the officers. Yet Southwick knew he had changed, even if he could not define the difference.