By an hour before midnight the two head pumps and hoses from the Calypso were being brought back on board from La Perle and Southwick reported that the French frigate's own pumps were holding the leaks. Ramage had gone through the ship in the last of the daylight, inspecting the nails which had been hammered into the touchholes of all the great guns to spike them, the heads cut off, the ends riveted to make it impossible to pull them out. Only drilling would make the guns usable again - many hours of patient work with the proper tools which only an armourer would have. La Perle's armourer did have them, but his elaborately carved and brass - bound box of tools was now on board the Calypso, whose armourer was walking round with the unbelieving smile of a small boy given the Christmas present about which he dreamed but never thought to get. Water casks had been smashed and the hoops thrown over the side, the staves lying about in the holds like dozens of pieces of melon rind. A few casks had been left untouched: the two days' supply of water for the three hundred men. The hanging magazine, a lathe - and - plaster - lined cabin whose deck was three feet below the normal deck level so that it could be flooded with hoses, was now a small rectangular pond, the water slopping as the ship rolled, with scores of what seemed like dead cats floating in it - the cartridges for the guns. Casks of powder had their bungs removed; the grey powder they contained was sodden and some had washed out so that the water had the consistency of a thin grey soup.

Southwick and Aitken had made a thorough job of limiting La Perle's range. Bags of bread had been ripped open and the hard tack they contained soaked with salt water, taking care that none of the resulting mash went into the bilge, where it would plug the strainers and block the pumps. Casks of cheese, jars of oil, barrels of sauerkraut (which accounted for the vile smell), sacks and casks of oatmeal - all had been smashed, cut open, or the contents spoiled with salt water.

All the books and papers from the cabins of the captain and the master - they included another signal book, and the order book giving every order Duroc had received since before leaving France - were now stacked in Ramage's cabin, while the charts were in Southwick's, At the purser's suggestion, only a couple of dozen candles had been left in the ship. It was a very good idea but Ramage had been amused at the reason behind it. In the Royal Navy the purser had to pay for and supply free all the candles used in a ship, and now the Calypso had a windfall of several hundred, admittedly thin and of poor quality. No doubt Rowlands was hoping - though he would not dare suggest it - that the captain would not mention the acquisition in the Calypso's log. This would, Ramage noted wryly, make the purser the only man to make a financial profit from La Perle's capture.

The French prisoners were quite cheerful, despite the pumping, and Ramage had stopped to chat with several of them. A few grumbled about blistered hands and aching backs from the hours they had spent at the pumps, but the only real complaint was the heat: it was the heat that was exhausting them. Curiously enough, no one had asked what was going to happen to them, yet with several of the men - the master.

carpenter and bosun, for example - Ramage had chatted for some time, with none of them realizing that he was the Calypso's captain.

An hour to midnight, and there was La Creole's lantern: Lacey had been on board the Calypso to receive his orders and was obviously delighted with them. Ramage recognized the expression on Lacey's face when he realized he was going off on his own - or, rather, would be free of his senior officer for a few days. How in the past Ramage himself had prayed for such orders, and luckily Lacey had grasped the need to obey them implicitly. If there was any sign that La Perle was trying to make for anywhere but the agreed stretch of the Main, he was to warn her by firing a shot across her bow, and, if that was not sufficient, he was at once to rake her with broadsides until she obeyed or was a wreck.

On the other hand, if she was obviously going to sink before reaching the Main, Lacey could leave them two of his own boats because the frigate had more men than her own four boats could carry. Aitken had already made sure that two of La Perle's boats had compasses. None had water, though; the breakers were left in them, but the French master had been warned that they were empty and, in any emergency, would first need filling.

Once again Ramage looked at his watch. The two frigates had drifted well to the west of Curacao now, and there was half an hour to go before La Perle would be cast off. Now was the time to give Duroc his instructions, and to spring the final (and, he admitted, quite malicious) surprise on Citizen Bazin.

He went to his cabin after passing the word that Duroc was to be brought up, but without the other prisoners seeing him. At the moment the Frenchman knew absolutely nothing, other than what he could have guessed from the evidence of his own ears. Ramage had not been down to talk to him; the Marine sentries guarding him in Aitken's cabin had been warned to say nothing, in case Duroc could in fact speak English. Bazin and the other lieutenants did not know he was there; they knew nothing of him.

The man brought into Ramage's cabin by two Marines was a shrunken version of the burly braggart sent below under guard before La Perle was captured. The dim light of the lantern emphasized the deep lines of worry, marking his face like crevices in a cliff, and he was licking his lips nervously like someone caricaturing a nervous man. His shoulders were hunched, as if unconsciously hiding his neck from a guillotine blade.

Ramage kept him standing so that the man had to cock his head to one side.

'Ah, Captain Duroc, you know what has happened to your ship?'

'You captured her. I hear her alongside. And the pumps, I hear them working.'

Ramage nodded. 'Your men are still on board her. The five who were wounded have been treated and put back on board - their wounds were slight' 'Five? How many dead?' 'None.'

'And now, sir?' Duroc's eyes revealed his fears of what would happen when the French Ministry of Marine in Paris heard those figures. The captain not on board, no one killed, the ship lost to the enemy - it could only mean treason to minds so accustomed to finding or manufacturing it.

Ramage handed him the chart which Southwick had drawn. 'Sit down there, on that settee. You can read the chart - there is enough light? Good. Now, you know your ship is sinking?' Duroc nodded miserably.

'But you are confident your pumps can keep up with the leaks?'

Again Duroc nodded. 'Yes, but if they get worse . . .' 'Quite, you risk the leaks getting worse, and your men are becoming exhausted. That was why you were making for Curasao, to careen her?'

Duroc nodded for the third time, studying the chart 'Your destination is now changed. You will be put back on board your ship in a few minutes, and you will have that chart, and water for all your men for two days. There is no powder, the guns are spiked, and my schooner will escort you to Spanish waters.'

Duroc looked up at him, accepting the situation but obviously assuming some trap. 'We shall not be prisoners, then?'

'Only of yourselves and your ship. For two days the leaks and the pumps will be your guards.' The Frenchman used his fingers to measure distances. 'One day, perhaps two,' he said, almost to himself. 'Yes, that is good. But 'Have you any questions?'

'Yes, M'sieur. Why are you freeing us?'

'I don't want three hundred prisoners,' Ramage said frankly. 'I have orders from my admiral and I need all my men.'

Duroc made no secret of his relief: he believed the answer, perhaps because it was a logical one, and said: 'I do not know your name, M'sieur. You are being very fair to us. I would like to know to whom I am indebted.'