Ramage decided to make one more tack across Sint Anna Baai, passing two miles off Waterfort and Riffort to wake up the gunners and perhaps provoke them into firing. This raiding of the bars was useful because although the Calypso had nothing to fear from shore guns at that range it was usually too close for them to resist firing. Careful observation of the puffs of smoke could reveal how many guns a fort had, and if they had not been fired for a long time they could sometimes do their owners considerable harm: a wooden carriage with hidden rot could send a gun barrel weighing a couple of tons spinning away in a shower of smoke and flame like a carelessly - thrown stick. Roundshot painted too frequently or neglected and rusted invariably ended up larger than they should be, like swollen grapefruit, and they could stick in the bore, with the gunners left unsure whether or not to fire the gun to clear it in case the barrel blew apart Tacking back and forth in front of the forts and just outside their effective range was as good a way of teasing the enemy as any and always pleased the ship's company.

Taking the ship in closer than intended was also a way of ensuring smart sail handling, Ramage mused. Lucky shooting which took away a mast or yard when fifty other shot had missed altogether seemed to happen more frequently at long range than close in. And many ships sailing in boldly with a nice fresh breeze to intimidate a shore battery had been lost when the wind suddenly vanished, leaving them becalmed, a stationary target and an artilleryman's dream.

He lifted his telescope for one more look at the town - from this angle he could see the third side of Riffort on Otrabanda. Beyond it, on Punda, there was a curious movement round the flagpole at Government House. In fact the big Dutch flag was being lowered. He looked at the flags on the two forts, but they were still flying. Yet - yes, there were several men round the bases of each flagpole.

Now a bundle was going up the flagpole at Government House and breaking out to stream in the wind - a plain white flag. Another was being run up to replace the Dutch flag on the fort at Punda. And now a third was being hoisted at Riffort.

A white flag, the flag of truce? Well, there was no question about its meaning; everyone treated it as a truce flag, the signal for a parley. But here, in Amsterdam, with ten French privateers safely anchored inside the two forts guarding the entrance? What could Aitken suddenly exclaimed as he saw the flags; then the lookout at the foremast hailed the quarterdeck. In a few moments the whole ship was buzzing with comment and speculation. Southwick, quite inevitably, sniffed and announced that it was a trick; that the Calypso, with La Perle hardly out of sight, should not get caught on her own bait They can see we've a good breeze out here and there's probably a dead patch close in under their guns that we don't know about and where we'd be becalmed,' he announced. 'It's no good trusting mynheer, he's a cunning fellow. Drives a hard bargain - and fights hard, too.'

Ramage walked over to the binnacle and looked at the compass card. The wind was due east; with the yards braced sharp the Calypso could lay north - north - east, almost direct for Amsterdam. A bow - on approach gave the Dutch gunners the smallest target and made it harder to estimate - or guess - the range, because calculating the speed of an approaching ship was difficult. More important, the wind allowing him a direct approach also gave him a choice of direction if he needed to escape: ease sheets and bear away to the west or tack and bear away if he preferred the east.

A quiet order to Baker, who was the officer of the deck, had the Marine drummer beating his ruffles, which sent the men to quarters. A second order had the coxswain watching the compass and the men at the wheel as they brought the ship round three points to starboard.

By the time the trucks began rumbling as the guns were run out, the Calypso was headed for the channel separating the two halves of the town. In the distant days of peace, Ramage reflected, the Calypso would be preparing to fire a salute to 'the place', as the Regulations and Instructions termed it. He checked the compass and noted the Calypso's bow was now heading a fraction to the north of north - north - east, although the men at the wheel were on course.

Watch for the current, Mr Baker, it seems to be westgoing and quite strong, perhaps a couple of knots.'

It did not really matter because the Calypso most certainly was not going up the channel, but young lieutenants are supposed to be quick to note currents. In many Caribbean ports a few degrees to one side or other of the course meant you would hit a rock waiting alone and unmarked for the careless mariner. Many rocks were named on charts after the ships that had hit and sunk beside them. It was the kind of enduring fame, Ramage thought, that he would gladly avoid.

Southwick had put down his quadrant and looked up after consulting a volume of tables. 'We're a mile and three - quarters off the forts, sir.'

'Very well, Mr Southwick.'

Ramage opened his telescope once again, careful to set it at the focusing mark he had filed on the brass tube, and looked at the forts. There were a few people standing on the walls. Although it was impossible to be sure at this distance, they seemed to be watching rather than preparing for action. From their point of view the Calypso was approaching fast (they had an excellent view of her bow - wave, which must look like a white moustache), and one would expect even the most controlled of battery commanders to open fire at a mile if he meant to be unfriendly. At the speed the Calypso was making, she'd be a mile off in about seven minutes.

Now Aitken was officer of the deck; Wagstaffe, Baker and Kenton were standing by their divisions of guns. Paolo Orsini (wearing a seaman's cutlass as well as that wretched little dirk, Ramage was glad to see) was waiting, telescope in one hand and the signal book in the other. Southwick, his usual burly self, was at the starboard side of the quarterdeck rail, using his quadrant, quite convinced that the Dutch were up to some trick but obviously unperturbed at the prospect.

The master turned and said casually: 'A mile off the fort on Otrabanda, sir.'

'Very well, Mr Southwick.'

A mile . .. why the devil was he going in so close? Ramage felt a sudden chill. Just because the Dutch had hoisted nags of truce, he had taken the Calypso almost into the port; yet the Dutch could just as easily lower the white flags, suddenly rehoist the Dutch colours in their place, and open fire - and quite fairly claim it was all a ruse de guerre. After all, he'd Just done it himself to La Perle. . .

Yet his telescope still showed men standing on the walls of the fort at Otrabanda. And at Punda. But - what was going on there now, on the Punda side of the channel?

'Mr Orsini, hurry I Aloft with your telescope and tell me what that boat is doing in the channel.'

While Paolo bolted for the shrouds both Aitken and South - wick trained their telescopes forward, having to move across the quarterdeck to find a place where their view was not obscured by the bowsprit, jibboom or rigging.

'It looks like a boat the size of our gig, sir,' Aitken reported. 'Pulling perhaps six oars a side. And they are in a hurry!'

Ramage left Aitken to keep an eye on the boat: the Calypso was approaching the port so fast now that if there was going to be any treachery it would happen in the next few moments. The first warning would be those men vanishing from the walls of the forts: they would have their eardrums burst if they stayed there while the Dutch guns fired. If they vanished from the battlements, the Calypso would immediately tack out again: they would be his danger signal.

'The boat's hoisting a mast, or something, sir,' Aitken said, his voice showing uncertainty. 'It's bigger than an oar but seems too short for a mast. And I can't think why they'd step a mast now: it would have been easier to do it alongside the quay.'