Ramage's Signal

He put the parallel rulers down on the chart with the top edge passing through Southwick's noon position and then moved them crabwise across to the destination. If only this wind direction would hold. It was increasing nicely - not enough to scare the timid masters into premature reefing and furling, but giving signs of settling in for the night.

Ramage was vaguely conscious of boots clattering down the companionway, and a few moments later the sentry knocked on the door and called: 'Mr Southwick, sir.'

'Send him in', Ramage answered, removing the weights and letting the chart roll up. He put the parallel rulers away, and while Southwick acknowledged his gesture and sat down on the settee, Ramage closed the log.

'Well, Mr Southwick?' Ramage knew the old master had come down just for a chat, but he always had an excuse and Ramage waited to see what it was.

Southwick fished a piece of paper from his pocket. 'The log, sir, I'm afraid it's not up to date: the expenditure of powder and shot was not entered. I have the figures here.'

Ramage took the paper. 'Nor was the departure in a French tartane of the captain, acting third lieutenant, midshipman and five seamen, and the captain's subsequent return.'

Southwick grinned and admitted: 'I wasn't sure how you wanted to deal with that, sir. It so happens, if you'll look just below the reference to the shortage of salt beef in that cask, there is space enough to enter the departure, and the captain's return would be the last entry, after this one about expenditure of powder and shot.'

'You'd better enter it all', Ramage said. 'Their Lordships may raise their eyebrows at my brief absence, but it was in a good cause!'

Southwick scratched his head in a gesture Ramage knew so well that he could guess what the old man was going to say.

'Beats me how you knew that privateer schooner, the Magpie, was going to turn out to be sailed by Algerines.'

'I didn't', Ramage said, surprised.

'Then why did you go in the Passe Partout, sir?'

'I didn't have time to tell Martin how to negotiate with a British privateer - it meant persuading them to let several prizes sail away.'

'Martin could have gone on board and torn up the letter of marque', Southwick said grimly.

'That wouldn't have helped. There are not many British ships of war to inspect it, and if the French catch a British privateer I doubt that they care much about letters of marque.'

'But you could have let Aitken go off in the Passe Partout, the master persisted.

'I could, but he learned more by being left in command of the Calypso. He handled her very well.'

Southwick nodded. 'Especially the way he sank the Magpie. But he worries too much.'

'How do you mean?'

'Well, when you hoisted number sixteen, he was afraid he wouldn't be able to tack up to you in time.'

'So was I', Ramage said grimly. 'In fact, if the Magpie hadn't had her masts go by the board...'

'But she did: I was telling Aitken that you'd do something, and you did.'

Ramage sighed at the thought of the thin line by which his life was at times suspended: a thin line of faith that he could perform miracles. 'Don't depend on it. We were lucky this time, but if those Algerines had been sailing the ship for another couple of months it would have been a different story.'

'Yes, sir', Southwick said comfortably, 'and we are all thankful they weren't. How long before you'll give young Orsini command of the Passe Partout?'

'I was going to leave Martin with him tonight, to hold his hand if necessary in the dark, and launch him off on his own tomorrow.'

'I'll pack up his quadrant, tables and glass: he didn't have time to take them with him.'

'It seems unfair to Martin', Ramage said, having second thoughts.

Southwick's eyes twinkled as he said casually, 'I don't expect she'll be the only prize we'll take. I'd have thought that a tartane rated a midshipman's command, not a lieutenant's!'

'It sounds to me as though you are trying to exercise patronage on behalf of the Marchesa.'

Southwick gave a bellow of laughter. 'That's about it! Anyway, I'd like to be. She'd have enjoyed watching the Magpie business.'

'From the Calypso.'

'No, sir, from the Passe Partout', Southwick corrected him with mock severity. 'You haven't seen her for so long you've forgotten what she's like when there's a whiff of action in the air.'

Ramage had not forgotten, but it had been so long since he had seen her that now memories brought pain rather than pleasure.

Southwick pointed at the chart which was still lying curled up on Ramage's desk. 'If this wind holds, we should sight land before noon the day after tomorrow, sir.'

'That's some "if". When does the wind stay in the same direction for more than a few hours in this part of the world?'

'When it's blowing a mistral or Levanter', Southwick reminded him.

Next day the Passe Partout came close to the Calypso and one of the frigate's boats took off Martin and brought Paolo on board the Calypso to receive his orders and collect his navigational equipment. Before he was taken back to the tartane Ramage sent for him and gave him his official orders. They were brief and written in the stylized form laid down by the Admiralty.

By Nicholas Ramage, Captain and commanding officer of His Majesty's frigate Calypso

To Paolo Orsini, midshipman, hereby appointed to the Passe Partout, prize to the Calypso frigate.

By virtue of the power and authority to me given, I do hereby constitute and appoint you midshipman in command of the tartane Passe Partout, prize to His Majesty's frigate Calypso; willing and requiring you forthwith to go on board, and take upon you the charge and command of her accordingly; strictly charging and commanding all the petty officers and company... to behave themselves jointly and severally ... And you likewise to observe and execute as well the General Printed Instructions, and such orders and directions you shall from time to time receive from your captain ... hereof nor you nor any of you may fail, as you will answer the contrary at your Peril; and for so doing this shall be your warrant.

The document was then dated, Ramage's seal impressed on it, and his signature added, and for the first time in his life Paolo commanded a ship and was responsible for the behaviour of every man on board.

When the captain gave it to him, Paolo read it and found no difficulty in understanding the neat handwriting of the captain's clerk, but was intimidated by the wording. He read the last paragraph yet again, this time aloud - 'hereof nor you nor any of you may fail, as you will answer to the contrary at your Peril ...'

He looked at Ramage, not realizing that this was standard wording. 'But, sir, this last part ...' It seemed very unreasonable of the captain to be so hard on him - presumably because ... Well, he was not sure quite why.

'"At your Peril", eh? That frightens you, I expect.'

'Yes, sir; after all ...'

'Well, you are in good company, my lad; every naval officer given command of anything has that in his orders. Commanders-in-chief, commodores, captains, lieutenants - even midshipmen in command of captured tartanes.'

'You mean, sir, your orders say the same?'

'The same and a lot more.'

At that moment Paolo understood why the commanding officer was always such a remote figure; why the attitude of the seamen, for instance, had been different where Martin was concerned on board the Passe Partout: they were more reserved, keeping a distance between them. Now, Paolo realized, he had - however temporarily - crossed the line separating carefree midshipmen skylarking on board without any papers or passing any examinations from officers who must not fail without 'answering to the contrary'.