Aitken nodded his head slowly. "Aye, I take your meaning, sir. They're up to windward of us, but we must try and make that to our advantage."
Ramage saw no reason why he had to be discreet in the present situation. "If you're unarmed and a man suddenly attacks you with a knife, I reckon you're justified in using unorthodox methods to defend yourself. 'Turning the other cheek' doesn't help!"
Aitken grinned for the first time that day. "Aye, I like that word 'unorthodox' - it has a pleasant unorthodox ring about it!"
After Aitken left the cabin, Ramage read through all the letters again. His defence. Well, all he had was the truth, though that might not count for much if Admiral Goddard was president of the court.
Time . . . yes, time was an enemy because he had no time to get his father and the Marquis to work at persuading Lord St Vincent to transfer the trial to, say, Portsmouth, with another president. But the more he thought about that - realizing it would take ten days or a fortnight to get a letter to London and the reply back to Plymouth - the more he understood how they were weighed down with Sarah's disappearance.
His father's letter made it clear that there was no news and how despondent they were. The Marquis must be distraught: he and Sarah were very close.
Now, burdened with worry over Sarah, it would crush them all to find Sarah's husband was in grave danger from the Articles of War. A week or more - the trial should be all over before news reached London. That decided him: no appeal to his father for help - the old man had suffered enough when that past government put him on trial - and no appeal to the Marquis. He would fight with the weapons he had. It did not do to think too much about the calibre of those!
Ramage and Sidney Yorke stood by the entryport as the chair with Alexis in it was hoisted up from the boat, swung inboard and gently lowered until it was just in front of Ramage. As Jackson and Stafford held it steady, Ramage stepped forward to flip back the wooden bar which held her secure, helped her step out on to the deck and, as Jackson swung the chair back out of the way, saluted her gravely. She curtseyed. "Good day, Captain, I trust my brother has already asked if our visit is discommoding you?"
"He has indeed."
"And what was your answer?"
Ramage was still standing close enough to her that by dropping his voice only she could hear his reply. "That your visit was very ill-timed because I was sitting in my cabin so miserable that I was thinking of doing away with myself!"
She laughed and said in a normal tone: "Oh good, as long as we have not interrupted anything of importance!"
With them seated in the cabin, Yorke said as soon as the sentry had shut the door: "We have been hearing a rumour."
"It is probably true. What does it say?"
"Leave the rumour for the moment. We have just heard officially that the convoy sails tomorrow with the London, Hull and Leith ships, and you are not named as the commander of the escort, nor is the Calypso mentioned."
When Ramage nodded, Yorke continued: "The rumour – which I don't mind telling you is upsetting all the masters considerably - is that you are being court-martialled at the instance of the captain of the Jason."
Ramage pointed at the papers on his desk. "That's not a rumour, I'm afraid. The Admiralty has ordered the trial and the date is already fixed - for the beginning of next week."
"But... but what about witnesses?" Alexis said angrily. "All the convoy will have sailed and the masters want to give evidence on your behalf!"
"That rumour-which-is-not-a-rumour is not the only one," Yorke said. "I hear that our old friend Goddard is the rear-admiral here. Does that mean ... ?"
As Ramage nodded, Alexis exclaimed: "Goddard? Who is this Goddard? Why do the pair of you have such long faces? Are you frightened of him?"
"Yes and no," Ramage said, and quietly explained to her how Goddard had entered his life, toadying to the old ministers and currying favour by attacking the Earl of Blazey's son.
"Sidney," Alexis said firmly. "We let the Emerald sailtomorrow with the convoy, and we move on shore to an inn. The King's Arms, I think; I refuse to stay at the Prince George - I dislike Foxhole Street and the place is always full of noisy shipmasters and foreigners."
Yorke agreed but warned that after so many weeks at sea, it would take a few days to find their land legs.
Alexis pointed at the papers on Ramage's desk. "Why are you so sure that this Goddard man will preside at the trial?"
"In Plymouth there is a port admiral," Ramage explained. "He is Vice-Admiral Sir James Bustard. I know nothing about him except he's getting on in years. He has a house - just near Mount Wise and the Telegraph, and just across the Parade from Government House.
"Then there is a rear-admiral, who is the second-in-command. His main purpose in life is to preside at courts-martial. In a big port like Plymouth there are trials almost every day and they're held on board the Salvador del Mundo, an old prize which is well suited for the purpose."
"Trials almost every day?" Alexis exclaimed. "But what for?"
"Don't forget that a 74-gun ship (most of the ships you see here larger than frigates are seventy-fours) has at least seven hundred men on board, and the frigates about two hundred each. So take half a dozen seventy-fours and you have more than four thousand men. If only half a dozen of them desert, get drunk and start a brawl and hit an officer or mutter treasonable phrases in their cups - well, that makes half a dozen courts-martial a day!"
"Not to mention captains who misbehave out in the Atlantic and come in here to be punished," Alexis added mischievously.
"Indeed not," Ramage agreed gravely. "Poor Rear-Admiral Goddard must be a much overworked man."
"It's a pity you have to add to his burden."
Ramage laughed and said wryly: "I am sure he will think he's doing me a favour."
Sidney Yorke, who had remained unsmiling as Ramage and Alexis teased each other, asked quietly: "Am I being indiscreet in asking what you are charged with - and by whom?"
Ramage sorted out the papers on the desk and passed them to Yorke. "They're in order now. When you've read them all, you'll know as much about this as I do."
Alexis look questioningly and Ramage nodded. "Of course you can read them too."
"They'll make a change from the Paston letters which you lent me and which I've nearly finished. Not that I haven't found them fascinating, but I didn't know the Pastons and I do know you!"
She waited a few moments and then said quietly: "Why don't you come with us and stay at the inn? You have not slept on shore since -"
She just prevented herself putting a hand to her mouth, a gesture which in other women always irritated her, but there was no way she could recall the words. Ramage said easily: "Since Bonaparte's men chased us out of Jean-Jacques' château near Brest. No, but a captain may not sleep out of his ship without the port admiral's permission. That is just for a night. For longer, he needs permission from the Admiralty."
"And for the moment you do not want to ask favours of anyone."
Ramage nodded. "Anyway, I have plenty to do - lists of witnesses, draw up my defence, and so on."
"And rally your friends," Alexis added.
"A naval officer on trial for his life in these circumstances has no friends," Ramage said with unintended bitterness, and was startled to see Alexis's eyes beginning to glisten with tears.