He had a large-scale chart open on his desk, and Southwick was placing the stone paperweights, by the time the sentry's call announced the arrival of Aitken and Rennick.
Aitken immediately looked at the chart as if hoping to see pencilled lines that would reveal the captain's plans. Instead he saw a fifty-mile stretch of coast running northwest and southeast down to form Capo Teulada and Capo Spartivento at the southwestern corner of the island of Sardinia.
Forming, Aitken realized, one of the great corners of the Mediterranean. Once a ship sailed into the Mediterranean past Europa Point and left Gibraltar astern, Capo Teulada and then Capo Spartivento, forming the southern tip of Sardinia, and Capo Passero at the south end of Sicily, had to be rounded before turning up into the Adriatic or the Aegean, or passing on south of Crete - he could not remember the name of that cape - for those places with magical names: Sidon, Tyre, Acre and the Biblical villages and towns, none of which seemed to be on the coast, as though the early Christians were wary of the sea, despite St Peter being a fisherman.
The four men stood round the desk looking at the chart, and Ramage put his finger down at a point about halfway along the coast.
'There's the Golfo di Palmas', he said to Aitken and Rennick, 'and Southwick assures me it lies just ahead. That island protecting it to the north is Sant' Antioco and the smaller one north of that is San Pietro. The Golfo di Palmas is reckoned one of the best anchorages in this part of the Mediterranean: ships can find shelter because even a south wind doesn't kick up too much of a sea.'
'And for our purposes not too many villages or towers overlooking the anchorage', Southwick said.
'None that need bother us', Ramage agreed. 'I haven't been in here for ten years or more, but last time there were a few fishermen living in huts, a tower or two and churches, and a Roman acropolis. They fish for tunny. Anyway, they need not concern us. Now, with our topgallants drawing we should be pulling ahead of the convoy, and because each master knows we are making for the Golfo di Palmas, that'll seem natural enough: they can see land ahead and those who could be bothered to take the sun's meridian passage will know that it is the right spot.'
'I wonder where they think the convoy is going to after that', Rennick said in an elaborately casual voice, obviously hoping to draw a hint from Ramage.
'Once they've rounded Capo Spartivento the whole of the eastern Mediterranean is open to them', Ramage said blandly. 'Venice, Ragusa, the Morea, Constantinople, Egypt...'
Rennick grinned and said: 'Which would you choose, sir?'
'For a visit in time of peace? Venice, Constantinople ... scores of places.'
'That wasn't quite what I meant, sir.'
'I know', Ramage said, 'but I'm making you add patience to your long list of virtues.'
He picked up Orsini's list of ships and the sheet of paper on which he had made an estimate of the number of their crews.
Now is the moment, he told himself. You can give one of two sets of orders to these men. One will result in a small but certain victory; the other gives a chance of a very much larger one. But only a chance; a chance in which he could take no precautions against things like a random sighting at sea, a night of gale ... And the question the admiral at Gibraltar - or the Admiralty, since he was sailing under Admiralty orders- would ask was why he did not take the smaller assured victory.
'Under Admiralty orders' - it meant, in a case like this, so much more than just receiving orders direct from Their Lordships. When a captain acting on orders from an admiral captured a prize, the admiral received an eighth of the prize money, which had to come out of the total shared by the captain, officers and ship's company.
However, if a captain and his ships were sailing 'under Admiralty orders', when they captured a prize they shared nothing with any admiral - with no one, in fact, except the prize agent. Not unnaturally the Admiralty were always on the watch for a captain abusing this situation. It was an obvious temptation for some captains. However, his father, one of the most intelligent admirals serving the Navy, although eventually his career was ruined when he became a political scapegoat, had once said to him: 'Always aim at a complete victory. Remember that a battle half won is a battle half lost. A man losing a leg doesn't say he's half lame.'
Rennick was examining the chart for forts and fields of fire, and seeing what landing beaches there were in the gulf, while Aitken was noting the soundings in the gulf itself, and between Sant' Antioco and San Pietro and the mainland, which formed a much smaller but obviously good anchorage.
Southwick, who had already spent a long time examining the chart and had inspected each copy made by Orsini for the French masters and delivered to them the first day out of Foix, waited patiently for the captain to begin.
Finally Rennick looked up at Ramage, and then Aitken said: 'It certainly is a fine anchorage, sir. Room enough for a fleet and you can get in or out in almost any wind: a little like Falmouth but without that narrow entrance. Well, sir...?'
In his imagination Ramage saw the letter written by the Secretary to the Board, with its stylized beginning, 'I am commanded by Their Lordships ...' and he could hear a man walking with a wooden leg.
He sat down at the desk and motioned the others to make themselves comfortable on the settee and the one armchair. Then he thought for a moment. Whatever he did, Kenton and Martin were involved, but Southwick, whether he liked it or not, was going to have to stay with the Calypso.
'You'd better relieve Kenton', Ramage said to Southwick, 'and tell Martin to come down, too.'
An hour later he was standing at the quarterdeck rail with Southwick, examining with his telescope the hilly land ahead of them.
'That's Sant' Antioco island', Ramage said. 'It's difficult to distinguish from the hills behind, but check the peaks against the chart as I call them out.
'The highest is in the middle of the island. That'll be Perdas de Foga. Nearly 900 feet, isn't it?'
'According to this chart, sir.'
'At the south end of the island there are three more peaks, the middle one being the highest. That'll be Monte Arbus, I take it.'
Southwick grunted agreement.
'Now, there's a pointed peak at the north end of the island. Scrocca Manu, eh?'
'If that's how you pronounce it', Southwick grumbled. 'About 500 feet. It all fits.'
Ten minutes later, Ramage again put the glass to his eye.
'Ah, Southwick. The north end of Sant' Antioco - are you ready with the chart? Good. There's a small town there with a tall, white, circular tower. A hundred feet high, I should think. And - yes, a church with a white cupola.'
'That's right, sir', Southwick said matter-of-factly. 'It's Calasetta, but you're wrong about the tower, it's only ninety-five feet. By the way, off the south end of the island, a couple of miles or so -'
'Yes, the land of Sant' Antioco comes down low there, and then there's a very small island, steep-to but high.'
'That's it: Isolotto la Vacca.'
'Now, the island to the north of Sant' Antioco, Isola San Pietro. Not much to see - seems fairly low, plenty of trees. Olives and figs, and I can pick out some vine terraces. The south end looks like salt pans. Wait - yes, on the mainland beyond, I can see another big tower. Octagonal - at least, not round. Very prominent.'
'That's at Portoscuso, sir. How about looking down to the south, at the southern end of the Golfo di Palmas?'
'Well, on the mainland in line with the south end of Sant' Antioco there are various hills inland, but it begins with a white sand beach, then what looks like marshes. That must be the north side of Porto Pino?'