The new First Lieutenant, John Aitken, arrived an hour after the Surgeon. He was a fresh-faced and diffident young Scot from Perthshire who, half an hour after climbing the gangway steps, had changed into his second-best uniform and set the men to work cleaning up the ship. Head pumps were soon squirting streams of water across the decks as seamen sprinkled sand and scrubbed with holystones; aloft topmen were refurling sails, tying and retying gaskets until the quiet Scots voice coming through the speaking trumpet announced that the First Lieutenant was satisfied.

The other three lieutenants had arrived together and Ramage, with memories of joining ships in similar circumstances, saw from the way they behaved towards each other that they had already compared the dates of their commissions. The vital dates established their seniority and sorted them into the Second, Third and Fourth Lieutenants, without the need for a decision by Captain Ramage, the Port Admiral or the Admiralty.

To Ramage, now in his late twenties, the three junior lieutenants looked very young. Each must be more than twenty, because that was the youngest age allowed; but he was himself getting older, and this was the first time for a couple of years that he had seen a group of young lieutenants. They seemed cheerful and competent fellows: Wagstaffe, the Second Lieutenant, was a Londoner, Baker, the Third, was a burly youngster from Bungay, in Suffolk, and Lacey, the new Fourth Lieutenant, spoke in the easy relaxed burr of Somerset, having been born at Nether Stowey.

As he walked round the ship, watching but not interfering, storing items in his memory, noting the way certain men were working and others were hanging back, Ramage kept an eye open for the midshipmen. Gianna's nephew was due today - Ramage had emphasized that if he did not get on board today he would be left behind. To be fair to the boy he was having to make his way from somewhere in Buckinghamshire to London, buy his kit, and then get down to Portsmouth. Ramage stopped walking for a moment, appalled at the prospect of Aunt Gianna taking the boy shopping; he would probably arrive with a large trunk full of expensive nonsense, instead of a small sea chest tightly packed with the items on the list that Ramage had left behind.

He was thankful that the shop in Portsmouth had sent out his own purchases: two chests of tea, cases of spirits and wine, boxes of freshly-baked biscuits they swore would last two months without going hard, and after that could be freshened by soaking in water for a couple of minutes and putting in a hot oven. He had a good selection of preserves: cucumber put down in vinegar, quince jam, mint sauce in bottles, and there were a small string of garlic and several large ones of onions, stone jars of lime juice, a box of apples packed in hay ...

Promotion to the command of a frigate brought other changes, apart from the number of men and the size of the ship. The Captain of a frigate, with four lieutenants, Marine officer, midshipmen, Master and Surgeon, was expected to entertain; from time to time he would have to invite three or four of them to dinner, and spend an amiable hour being pleasant. It was up to the Captain to provide a palatable meal and make sure plenty was available: young midshipmen and junior lieutenants came to dinner with the Captain with awe and a hearty appetite.

By late afternoon Ramage was heartily sick of the ship. Every time he wanted to walk the deck to ease his tension he had to dodge groups of busy seamen. The ship stank of pitch because Aitken had the carpenter's mates and caulkers hardening down some of the deck seams with hot irons; there was brick dust blowing around as seamen tried to work up a polish on brasswork that had been left to corrode for weeks. New coils of rope were being unrolled as Southwick and the bos'n replaced running rigging that had aged and stretched to the point of being dangerous. Cursing seamen struggled with fids as they spliced in new thimbles, and the gunner and his mates were systematically picking up shot from the racks and passing them through gauges, metal rings of an exact diameter which would show if too much paint or hidden flakes of rust on a shot would make it jam in the bore of a gun. Only Aitken was entirely happy: Ramage seemed to hear his soft Scots voice coming from a dozen places at once as he encouraged, cajoled and bullied the men to get the work done.

Gianna's nephew arrived at four o'clock with the midshipman sent by Lord St Vincent. Each boy had two sea chests and Ramage watched Southwick glaring as they were hoisted on board. He decided not to say anything unless more midshipmen arrived: with these two and the master's mate, the berth would not be too crowded because the chests made up for the lack of chairs.

Ramage gave both boys half an hour to settle in and then sent for them. Paolo Luigi Orsini was a typical young Italian: olive-skinned with black hair, large and warm brown eyes, and an open friendly manner. At the moment he was very nervous, overwhelmed at being in uniform and serving in one of the King's ships. Ramage suspected too that warnings from Gianna were still ringing in his ears about what would happen to him if he did anything to incur the Captain's displeasure. The high-spirited boy who had romped through the house in Palace Street, teasing Zia Gianna had vanished; in his place was a lad who gave the impression that he feared that at the slightest lapse he would vanish in a puff of smoke.

The second midshipman, Ramage was relieved to find, had been to sea before: Edward Benson, son of a cousin of Lord St Vincent's wife, had spent a year in a 74-gun ship of the line and was two years older than Paolo. Red-haired and freckle-faced, he was obviously high-spirited and Ramage recalled the First Lord's remark. Ramage had already met Edwards, the young master's mate who would be the senior in the midshipmen's berth, and he seemed more than capable of keeping an eye on both boys.

At five in the afternoon Aitken reported that the Juno's cutter had returned from the Dockyard after taking all the mail on shore, and Ramage guessed that the canvas bag had contained a bizarre collection of papers. He had written to Gianna and his parents, Bowen had written to his wife, the newly-joined lieutenants had scribbled letters to relatives and the seamen had sent four or five score letters telling wives and sweethearts that they were about to sail on a long voyage. Ramage had spent much of the previous evening and most of this morning working with his clerk, trying to get all the lists, affidavits, musters, invoices, pay tickets, surveys and inventories checked and signed where necessary. Together they accounted to the Admiralty, Navy Board, Sick and Hurt Board and the Port Admiral for just about everything on board the Juno, from her men to spare sail canvas, powder and shot to stationery, spare beer cask staves to caulkers' mauls. Fortunately the clerk had had everything ready up to the time the previous Captain went off to face the court martial, but there was no chance of Ramage checking whether all the items he was signing as having been received since then were actually on board. He would have to make up any shortages later out of his own pocket but for the time being he had to sail as quickly as possible, and he could not leave until the paperwork was done.

The gunner, bos'n, carpenter and various others had prepared their inventories, but it would take another three days to go through the paperwork item by item - as he had every right to do - and by that time the voice of the Port Admiral would be shrill and signals from the Admiralty would be arriving on board like broadsides. That was one of the disadvantages of the new semaphore telegraph set up between Portsmouth and the Admiralty building in London. In an emergency signals could be passed in a matter of minutes, but it also meant that the First Lord could sit in his office in London and ask questions and get answers back within half an hour...