Ramage looked round for Orsini. 'Give me the signal book and stand by.'

He thumbed through the pages. Making a signal which gave a precise order was frequently difficult for a captain or admiral who wanted to do something out of the ordinary. There were nearly four hundred signals in the book, ranging from Engage the enemy more closely to The ship has sprung a leak, from Send boats tomorrow morning for water, for fresh beef, or for any other supplies of which the ship may be in need to The physician of the fleet is to come to the Admiral.

For all that, he was going to have to use two separate signals to give his new order to Aitken. The problem was that the new order was not a complete change. The Surcouf was still to attack the convoy, but not from the rear: Aitken was to attack the middle of the convoy from the seaward side. Signal number 33 said Engage the centre of the enemy, but might be misunderstood by Aitken as meaning that he was also to attack the frigates which, forming a half circle round the convoy on his side, would immediately close up to drive him off. No, Ramage had to make it clear that the English frigate's target was stil the merchant ships, Very well, there would have to be two signals. The first would be number 22, Attack the enemy's convoy of transports or trading ships, followed immediately by number 33, Engage the centre of the enemy.

He looked across at the convoy. It was also time to make the agreed signal for the Diamond and indicate to them that their orders were unchanged.

'Orsini, hoist number 13.'

'Number 13, Prepare for battle, sir,' the boy said, running to the halyard,

Ramage gestured to one of the four men to leave the wheel and give him a hand, and watched the Surcouf acknowledge.

He then said carefully to the boy; 'Now the Surcouf's pendant, and then two signals, number 22, and number 33.'

‘Aye, aye, sir,’ said the boy, repeating the meanings. Ramage nodded and prayed that the Diamond batteries would not be so excited that they did not notice that the second signal was addressed only to the Surcouf.

'We’ll tack now, Mr Southwick,' he said and tried to look at the Surcouf. The Master had heard him tell Orsini the signals and was obviously puzzled as he walked to the quarterdeck rail with his speaking trumpet. In a few moments more Aitken would not be puzzled: he would know that he had to keep the Surcouf on the same tack and heading for a point, at the moment unmarked, where the frigate and the convoy would meet. Then, whatever the French frigates did to try and stop him, he must luff up or bear away, tack, wear, or do anything else that let him dodge the escorts and break through to attack the centre of the convoy.

What would Aitken think? Ramage knew it did not matter, because the battle had to be fought, but the young Scot might think that, at the last minute, his senior officers had left him the desperate part of the fighting, ordering him to make a suicidal attack.

Would Aitken realize that he was now being ordered to attack the centre of the seaward side of the convoy so that at his approach two, and possibly three, of the frigates would bear up to fight him off, leaving only the leading frigate to drive off the Juno as she beat up through the Channel? Would he see what would happen if the Juno managed to avoid the leading frigate and suddenly attacked the convoy from the landward side? It would be a massacre, but by then the Surcouf would probably be a shambles. For a moment Ramage sympathized with an admiral with his flagship in the centre squadron who ordered the van or the rear squadron to make some apparently unexpected and dangerous attack and stayed in safety himself. Men would die and never know that they had been part of a larger plan. They might guess it, of course, because an admiral was responsible for the whole fleet, but how about the senior of two commanding officers, like himself and Aitken? How could Aitken be sure that Ramage was not deliberately giving him orders that would take the worst of the fighting off the Juno and leave most of it to the Surcouf?Aitken might have to fight off two or perhaps three frigates.

The Juno was now swinging round on the other tack; the helmsmen were turning the wheel, sheets and braces were being trimmed, and Ramage bent over the compass, shading it from the glare of the sun. He glanced up at Jackson, who nodded: the Juno was now sailing as fast and as close to the wind as possible, at right angles to the convoy's course. The lubber line on the compass was steady on north.

He looked across at the convoy, now broad on the Juno's starboard bow. The Surcouf had acknowledged his signals and he could see that she would be able to lay at the centre. But what the devil were the French frigates going to do? It looked as though they were going to stay in their present positions in relation to the convoy. Putting himself in the senior French captain's place, he was sure the plan at the moment was for the nearest two frigates to drive off the nearest enemy, without attempting to capture or destroy it.

From the French point of view this made sense: Fort Royal Bay was less than ten miles away round the Diamond headland. Four French frigates had only to keep two British frigates at bay for three hours - less, if they could persuade the merchantmen to set more canvas - and they would all be safe and have carried out their task of getting provisions to Martinique.

The colours, he thought irrelevantly: the almost harsh blue of the tropical sky, the deep blue of the sea which lightened as it closed the shore and, like the edge of a rainbow, merged into pale green along the sand of the beach. The inside of the Juno's bulwarks was a deep blood red; the guns shiny black and the sails aloft not the white of poems and songs but a faint tan, what an artist had once described as raw umber with a touch of burnt sienna.

Looking across at the convoy he was startled at the nearness of the leading frigate. It would be difficult indeed to explain that he had been attacked unawares because he was considering how much raw umber was mixed with burnt sienna ...

Then he saw two separate signals being hoisted in the French frigate. The Surcouf was a mile away from the seaward frigate. Any minute now he expected to see smoke pouring from them as they tried the range. Ramage was just estimating that the leading frigate was perhaps half a mile from the Juno when he saw all three frigates answering the signals.

Almost at once the frigates at the rear and on the quarter bore away slightly, obviously intending to drive off the Surcouf, while the leading frigate made a bold turn to starboard, to prevent the Juno getting between the convoy and the shore. The frigate which had stayed abreast of the leading ships now moved up to take the leading frigate's place at the head of the convoy.

'Most interesting,' Ramage heard a voice comment quietly, and he turned to find Bowen watching.

'It's our move,' Ramage said crisply, 'and perhaps a chessmaster like yourself can see it.' There were two or three minutes to spare and after that the pieces would start moving across the board with startling speed and confusion,

The Surgeon was shaking his head. 'No, sir, this isn't quite my kind of game.'

Ramage gestured to Southwick, to make sure he was ready for the Juno's next move. 'Remember your bishops, Mr Bowen,' he said with what seemed to the Surgeon a devilish, grin. 'The unexpected diagonal attack.'

The Master laughed drily and fingered the speaking trumpet. 'Aye, sir, the bishop might do it. Checkmate in three moves!'

The French frigate was turning even more inshore now as the Juno crossed ahead of the convoy and Ramage thought she would try to rake the Juno, firing her broadside into the British frigate's unprotected; bow. Every yard the French frigate sailed took her farther from the convoy, every yard she held on, hoping for that raking broadside, increased Ramage's chances of succeeding with his bishop's move. He glanced at Bowen and nodded towards the companionway. 'I know you'd like to watch, but you must stay alive to tend the casualties.'