by Dudley Pope
The French prisoners had sworn that those ten were the only ones using the Dutch islands of Aruba, Curacao and Bonaire as a temporary base, so any new arrivals would be ships that came in by chance. Ramage had been interested to discover that they had not been expecting La Perle, so her captain's story was probably true.
Suddenly he sat upright in the chair, then stood up and went over to his desk, unlocking a drawer and taking out his orders from Admiral Foxe-Foote. Yes, they were vague about exactly what he was to do about the privateers based on Curacao, but they were quite clear on one point which had just occurred to him with the suddenness of a sword thrust: as soon as he had dealt with them he was to return to Port Royal. So, if Foxey - Foote was liverish when the Calypso finally returned, he could sermonize and wax wrathful because Ramage had paused to take the surrender of an island. Islands, after all, yielded no prize money, nothing from which a commander-in-chief could take his eighths. Ten privateers, on the other hand, undamaged and requiring only the sails hoisting up from below and bending on ...
Maria van Someren. He put his orders back in the drawer and turned the key, and then returned to the armchair. There was nothing restful about Maria van Someren. She was no blushing young girl overcome with the vapours if she saw a naval officer casting an eye over her body, nor was she one of those brazen young women who made up for dull and vacant minds and vapid personalities by wearing daringly cut dresses out of which a reasonable man could expect a bosom to pop any moment and which, temporarily, took his mind off the mental drabness of the owner.
No, like Gianna she preferred the company of men to being caught up in a crowd of women chattering about the merits of a newly - discovered dressmaker, hinting at the behaviour of some absent wife (or her husband) or (with a brisk flapping of fans) remarking how hot it was for the time of year. Or, Ramage suddenly realized, he assumed she did: he had seen her once for a few minutes, and already he thought he knew her. Instead, of course, he was creating a person in the image of the kind of woman he bleed. He had seen her once, he would see her again this evening, and then it was unlikely he would ever see her again. The disappointment was physical rather than mental; he felt it in his loins. He would see Gianna naked, hold her body closely, share her bed - at least, he could have reasonable hopes of all that - but he would always wonder about Maria van Someren: was she one of those women who clasped her hands across her breasts, shut her eyes, breathed shallowly and went rigid, like a day - old corpse? Or was she - well, his mind was in enough turmoil to stop speculating further.
Many a man had metaphorically or literally lost his head because of the curve of a bosom but, he asked himself, have we anything to lose by dining at Government House tonight? The Calypso was safe enough; Southwick was quite capable of turning her on the springs and firing into the town - and likewise dealing with the unlikely prospect of a ship unexpectedly sailing in after dark. The privateers were safe enough under their Dutch guards - safe inasmuch as they could not fall into enemy hands. And since Ramage had to discuss the military situation with the Governor before doing anything about the rebels, the Calypso's officers might just as well be present and have a good dinner afterwards.
At the moment Ramage finally stood up from the armchair, Silkin knocked on the door and came into the cabin, freshly - ironed shirt, stock and stockings over his arm and polished shoes in his hand. Ramage, always irrationally irritated by Silkin's ability to keep out of sight until the moment he was wanted, began stripping off his clothes and walked through to his sleeping cabin where he knew the handbasin would be precisely two - thirds full of water, with soap, shaving brush, razor freshly stropped, and towel neatly laid out.
Relax indeed! Those captains who were court - martialled for 'not doing their utmost' against the enemy, admirals criticized after a battle for not pursuing a beaten enemy, junior officers not promoted because they lacked initiative - they were the men who could and did relax.
He soaped his body and then rinsed it He twirled the shaving brush in the soap dish and lathered his face. He paused and rubbed the lather deeper into the skin with his fingers before resuming with the brush. Finally he picked up the razor. He had no need to test the blade; Silkin was not intelligent enough to do something wrong, like forget to put out the shaving brush, or not hone the razor, so that the captain could spend a couple of minutes being angry, and then brighten up for the rest of the day. Instead, with nothing to grumble at, he became angry with himself for being so ill - tempered, and this discontent sometimes lasted for hours. If the ship's company understood all this, Ramage thought to himself, they'd cut Silkin's throat and feed him in small pieces to the gulls.
A mirror hung on the bulkhead, although Silkin knew well enough that Ramage always shaved without a mirror, a habit picked up as a lieutenant when frequently there was not enough light in a tiny cabin. Ramage rinsed the razor, wiped the blade and then closed it Shaving was a relaxing activity.
One glance at the mirror to make sure no flecks of lather remained in the ears or nostrils (he was always irritated when he saw it in other men) and he turned to the clothes, laid out neatly on the top of his cot, and began dressing.
Pulling on silk clothing after a leisurely wash and shave . .. he was thankful he had enough money to afford it, though officers who wore silk shirts in the Tropics instead of the linen on which he insisted for himself were silly fellows: a hot evening meant that the silk stuck to the body like a coating of glue.
Finally he tied his stock and Silkin was ready with his frock coat, shoes, sword and hat, and the news that he had passed the word to the first lieutenant that the captain would be ready in five minutes. One of the advantages of being the captain was that you were never kept waiting; by tradition the senior officer was the last in and first out of a boat Governor van Someren was in a cheerful mood, anxious to hear from Ramage the details of the capture of the privateers. He had sympathized with Aitken that the first lieutenant had to stay on board during the operation, listened carefully when Ramage had Wagstaffe explain how he and his men had boarded over the stern of the Nuestra Senora, and been startled when Kenton gave a hilarious description of the cutter disintegrating. '
Van Someren called over his wife and daughter and made Kenton repeat the story, and they laughed until Maria discovered men had been killed and wounded. Then she turned to Ramage and asked how they could laugh over such a tragic episode.
The question was completely unexpected and Ramage took a few moments to realize that she had misunderstood both Kenton and the attitude of all the Britons. 'We are not laughing at the tragedy. We are laughing because at one moment Mr Kenton is sitting on a thwart - on a seat - in the boat, and the next moment he is sitting in the sea.'
'Yes - but some of his men were smashed to pieces. Why do you laugh at that?'
'We were not laughing at that; we knew them all very well.'
Then that is far worse,' Maria persisted, tears beginning in her eyes. 'You are so ruthless. Dead men cannot fight and cannot be of any more use to you, so you laugh, but they have mothers and wives and sweethearts who will weep for them.'
"We are not laughing at them, ma'am,' Kenton said, obviously very upset at her accusation. 'We - well, as the captain said, we were laughing at me!'
'But all round you in the sea was the blood of the dead and wounded . . .'
Ramage wanted to end the conversation: this kind of reasoning brought back memories which for years he had struggled to drive away: of friends, of men he liked, and even men he disliked, who had died round him in battle, lingeringly or instantly, bloodily or unmarked, silently or screaming in agony.
'Madam,' he said, making little effort to keep a chill out of his voice, 'we laugh to avoid weeping. Today some of our men were killed. We knew them and we grieve, but inwardly. We don't wail and tear our hair. Tomorrow fifty might be killed, and a hundred the day after. Are we to weep for every one of them? Are we to weep because fifty of us might be killed on the third day? I might be dead tomor
row, Kenton and Baker the day after, and then Aitken. If we thought too much about it we would never sleep, we'd never be able to look at each other without bursting into tears. But we have a war to fight so each of us hopes he is immortal, laughs when he can and mourns in his own way when he must.'
Maria was angry now, the hint of tears gone and the skin of her face tautening to give her a beauty which was absent when her features were in repose. 'It is all very well for you to speak thus,' she snapped, 'but you are the captain! These young men risk their lives while you just give them their orders, and stay safely in your own ship.'
Ramage smiled in agreement and gave a slight bow which, he hoped, would end the conversation, but Aitken's Scots voice said quietly: 'I haven't served with His Lordship long, ma'am, but he's been wounded twice to my knowledge - look at the scars over his right eye - and has done things that make men like me tremble even to think about And,' he added, giving the words the broadness that only the Scottish accent allowed, 'today he was nearer death than any of us who lived.' Maria stared at Aitken, obviously disbelieving him. 'You defend your captain - as indeed you should.'
'Aye, madam, because he won't be bothered to defend himself against what - if you'll forgive my presumption - is a very ill - informed attack. I'm a simple naval officer not used to Governors' palaces, so I'm wrong in speaking out like this, but I canna stand here and listen to you talking about the captain staying behind and giving orders.'
'But he does!' Maria snapped. 'Mr Wagstaffe has just told us how he boarded the French schooner over the stem.'
Rennick grunted in protest and Wagstaffe had none of Aitken's shyness. 'Madam,' he said sharply, 'the first person to board that schooner was the captain. He climbed through a gun port at the bow. You probably don't know what a gun port is but you know the fortresses here. It was as if he climbed the wall and went through one of the embrasures so that he was standing right in front of the muzzle of a gun which was just about to fire.'
'It didn't though,' she said bitterly. 'He's alive but the other men are dead.'
The gun did not fire because Mr Ramage had time to kill the gunner the moment before it fired.' 'So four men died today, not three!' she exclaimed. Before anyone had time to react, Kenton, his cheeks flaming with anger, took a step towards her and said angrily: 'Yes, and nearly five - Mr Ramage. Would that have satisfied you, ma'am? The French' may be your allies but they're our enemies. They killed three of our men today, not Mr Ramage.' He stopped and Ramage was just about to order his officers to change the subject when Wagstaffe said: 'Madam - that schooner has a Spanish name, the Nuestra Senora de Antigua. You are sorry that Mr Ramage shot one of her seamen, but I can tell you that every man on board the Calypso would volunteer - aye, would be proud - to hang every Frenchman that normally serves in her. Hang them, or cut their throats. Some of them - and that includes me - would like to kill them even more slowly. Especially her captain - 1 could take a week to kill him: Maria stared at Wagstaffe contemptuously. 'So you are a - a hired assassin; that's what you've just admitted!'
Wagstaffe turned to Ramage, a questioning look in his eye. 'Can I tell her what I saw, sir?'
Ramage hesitated and glanced at van Someren, who was deliberately staying out of the argument, but before he could answer a white - faced and angry Wagstaffe turned back to the girl and described how the Calypso had found the Tranquil. He then told how they had found everyone on board had been murdered, including the women passengers.
'What has that to do with the Nuestra Senora de Antigua and Captain Brune?' she demanded, obviously horrified by the story.
'She was the privateer, he was the captain,' Wagstaffe said quietly. "Captain Brune had all those people killed, unnecessarily and in cold blood. Now he threatens to burn down Amsterdam, your town. He,' Wagstaffe added with biting sarcasm and giving a slight bow, 'has been your country's ally for nearly ten years.'
Maria half turned to Ramage and collapsed at his feet In the second before she fainted Ramage saw in her eyes such agony of mind that he found it hard to forgive himself for not having stopped the conversation many minutes earlier. He was the first to kneel beside the girl and half - turn her so she faced upwards. Her father did not move, and when Ramage glanced up to see if he was going to give any instructions he saw that the Governor's face was rigid and that he had held up a hand to stop his wife going to the girl.
'She has fainted,' he said, 'which seems a fitting end to insulting every one of my guests. I can only apologize and say that I do not agree with a word she said and hope you'll forgive her - she is a young girl who has led a sheltered life.'
His wife nodded in agreement. Apart from an occasional glance down at her daughter - a glance combining irritation, exasperation, disdain and concern in equal proportions, each competing for a leading position but none winning - she seemed to consider that the kneeling Ramage was all the attention the girl needed, and none of the other officers moved.
She recovered slowly and finally her eyes opened and focused on Ramage and as she recognized him he found he could not fathom her thoughts. Hate, contempt, distaste, horror? One of them, surely, but the blue, eyes closed again before he could be sure.
He felt a tap on the shoulder and looked up to find her father standing beside him. 'Well put her on the settee. It will soon pass.'
By the time she was sitting down and obeying Ramage's instructions to breathe deeply, the colour was coming back to her face and her hands were exploring her hair, in case some strands had escaped. Aitken had walked the three lieutenants to a large painting on the wall which showed a group of people skating on a frozen lake, and now the four lieutenants, perspiring from both the tropical heat and the situation, examined the ice and the surrounding snow with great concentration.
Van Someren pointed to a door Ramage had not previously noticed. To the balcony,' he said. 'Perhaps you would be kind enough to take Maria outside, for some fresh air.'
Outside it was cool; darkness had fallen but there was still a gentle breeze from the south - east A few hundred yards away the sea slapped lazily on the beach and over Waterfort the stars of Orion's Belt waited for the Southern Cross to appear.
As Ramage shut the door she walked over to the elaborate tracery of the balcony rail and standing with her back to it faced Ramage as he came towards her. She was silhouetted against the millions of stars that can only be seen from the Tropics, and as Ramage approached, she held out her hands. He walked into her arms and as he held her closely he was pleased that she followed the French fashion: the thin cloth of her dress hid her body from the eye but did nothing to conceal it from the touch.
'I am sorry,' she whispered. 'I did not understand. Your officers - they seem so young . . .'
They are,' Ramage said wryly. 'Aitken is almost my age.'
'But to me - ' she took his right hand. This afternoon, only a few hours ago, this hand killed a man.'
'If it had not, that man would have blown me in half - here,' he said roughly, pressing her hand against his stomach. That's where the muzzle of his gun was.'
She shuddered and traced the shape of his hand with her fingers. 'All this killing - it never ends.'
There's been very little of it out here,' Ramage said. His voice was low but harsh; he remembered only too well the guillotine he had seen in every town square during one brief foray into France; he knew only too well what The Terror' had done to anyone disagreeing with the Revolution. The islands have escaped up to now. You have no idea of the battles being fought in Europe.'
'Jules tells me,' she said.
'Jules?'
'My - last year my father announced my engagement to the first lieutenant of the Delft frigate. He is due here. My father hoped his men would dispose of the rebels.' 'Why has he been delayed?' 'I don't know. No explanation has come from the Netherlands.' Ramage could not see her features clearly in the darkness, but she did not sound like an infatuated young woman grieving over her future husband's absence, and 'my father announced my engag
ement' was a curious phrase. She kissed him again and then traced his features with her fingers, as though trying to learn his face by touch. 'Lord Ramage,' she murmured. 'And you are not yet married? So handsome, so brave - and, if you are a lord, no doubt so rich,' she added in a gently bantering voice which asked questions which Ramage had no intention of answering. The Navy leaves me no time to do anything but go to sea.' 'Ah - but you are in port now.' 'And you see what happens 1'
They moved apart as they heard the door handle rasping, and then the Governor bustled out, followed by the lieutenants. 'How are you now, my dear?' he asked the girl, and when she assured him she was recovered he said: 'I think your mother would like to see you: some trouble with the kitchen staff I think.'
As soon as she left he said to Ramage: 'Perhaps we should discuss plans before dinner, then we can enjoy our food without distraction.'
When Ramage agreed the Governor said: 'Should we talk here? We run no risk of servants hearing too much, and I imagine you want your officers present'
For the next fifteen minutes van Someren told them all he knew of the rebels' activities, how far they had advanced, and how long - unless something was done quickly - before the rebels reached Amsterdam. At the end of the recital he asked Ramage: 'So what do you propose doing?' Thinking about it at dinner, Your Excellency.' 'But you must have some idea, surely?' Ramage shrugged his shoulders, and then realized that van Someren could not see him in the darkness. There are many things we could try to do. But the fact is I have about one hundred and fifty seamen and forty Marines to deal with perhaps five hundred men who know the island well.'
This I know, but surely . . .'
