Ramage laughed because the quotation, from Henry IV, was one of his favourites. 'Still, when they hear how much my fellows have made from prize money, I expect I'll get a few volunteers.'

The earl nodded in agreement. 'Mind you, you probably won't get as much with a seventy-four as you did with a frigate. By the way, that master of yours - Southwick, isn't it? - should be a wealthy man by now. He's been with you ever since you got your first command, the Kathleen cutter.'

'Yes, he could retire and be comfortably off. I mentioned it to him once and got a very short answer - he's happy at sea with me. Interesting to guess what he might have done if he had not been transferred to the Dido.'

'Retired, I expect. A man like him doesn't want to start having to learn new tricks with a fresh captain - not after so many years with you. Anyway, he must be well into his sixties by now.'

'About sixty-five, but he runs around like a young boy.'

'How's young Paolo, by the way?'

'You wouldn't recognize him, he's grown so much. More like a junior lieutenant than a young midshipman. He was very excited to have his aunt on board when we came back from Naples.'

'From what Gianna said, most of the ship's company were very excited at seeing her. The Marchesa was certainly popular!'

'You and Mother don't mind her staying here?'

'Of course not. Anyway, she prefers it when we are down at St Kew - I think the Cornish landscape reminds her of Volterra -Tuscany, anyway. She has plenty of friends now - and I hope she's enjoying her visit to Shropshire at the moment.'

Sarah looked at the letter and the commission lying on the table. The important thing neither mentioned was dates. 'When do you have to go to Portsmouth?' she asked Ramage.

He felt himself torn two ways: he wanted to be with her, and he wanted to be down at Portsmouth, looking over his new command, like a child with a new toy. The Admiralty letter said nothing about when he should be at Portsmouth, nor did the commission, but it was always understood that 'forthwith' was implied.

'I should go down tomorrow. But you'll come with me? There's a comfortable inn near the Dockyard - and you know all the Calypsos. You'll find it interesting to see a ship of the line being commissioned.'

'She won't if all you have to do is provision and water her!' the earl said unexpectedly. 'Just sitting in her room doing embroidery . . .'

'I think I'll start packing,' Sarah said. 'Just in case you take a long time getting the Dido ready. There must be some sort of social life in Portsmouth.'

'Oh yes, the whole place positively quivers,' the earl saidironically. 'What with tea with the Port Admiral's wife, and a call on the mayor, and giving Aitken and Southwick tea as the gracious wife of the captain, you won't have a minute to call your own.'

'You make it sound very exciting. Especially tea with the mayor.'

'Well, there's usually a ball or two to liven things up. Make Nicholas take you - I know what a devil he is for dodging themif he can. By the way, take the carriage - the coachman's new and a fool, but Nicholas knows the Portsmouth road.'

The carriage left Palace Street two days later, starting off just as dawn was breaking. Ramage and Sarah crossed the Thames at Lambeth Bridge and found little other traffic: there were burly draymen delivering barrels to ale houses, and bakers with delicious-smelling newly baked loaves, otherwise the streets were almost deserted. After some eight miles they reached the edge of Richmond Park, and for the next two miles skirted it on the right before reaching Kingston. They had covered eighteen miles and the sun was climbing higher by the time they passed Lord Clive's estate at Claremont and drove on to Guildford, thirty miles from Palace Street. It was a fine sunny day: Ramage could see few clouds through the carriage window.

'We're going to have a dusty ride,' he commented to Sarah.

'It's always either dusty or muddy,' she commented. 'One day it will be perfect - a day we're not travelling!'

They reached Guildford just before ten o'clock, and Ramage saw a postchaise coming up to London pull in to change horses. Jessop, the coachman, announced that Guildford was as far as he knew, and Ramage directed him on to Godalming, which they reached in twenty minutes and went on to pass the Devil's Punch Bowl. Once through the hills they could make better time, and it was just two o'clock when they reached Petersfield and Ramage decided they would stop for a meal and a wash: dust seemed to get through every crack and crevice, and there was no question of driving with the window open. The inside of the carriage smelled musty and, with the dust, made them sneeze occasionally.

While they were waiting for the meal to be served at The Bell, and Jessop was attending to the horses, Sara said: 'Your father has a comfortable carriage: it is one of the best sprung I have ever travelled in.'

'He likes his comfort,' Ramage said. 'It's a long ride when they go down to Cornwall, and for the last third of the way to St Kew the road is awful. This Portsmouth road is bad enough. To think the telegraph takes only fifteen minutes or so.'

'The telegraph?' Sarah asked. 'Remind me how it works.'

'Well, it's like people standing on hills and waving to each other. The Admiralty has built signal towers all the way from the roof of the Admiralty building to Portsmouth - and it is being extended to Plymouth. There are men with telescopes in all the towers, and as soon as a message starts being signalled from one tower it is passed on to the next.'

'What are the signals - flags?'

'No, on each tower is a semaphore - like a man's arms. Different positions mean different letters of the alphabet. So unless it is foggy or dark, a message can be passed just as quickly as the signalman can handle it.'

'But surely there are a lot of routine messages - more than the telegraph can send.'

'Goodness me, yes. But every evening, at set times, messengers leave the Admiralty on horseback, bound for the various ports - Plymouth, Portsmouth, Sheerness, Harwich, Yarmouth, and so on. It is a regular service, so that the various port admirals know when to expect their mail. And, of course, the messengers bring back the routine correspondence to the Admiralty.'

Sarah seemed satisfied with the answer, but then she asked: 'Tell me about Aitken. Does his transfer to the Dido mean a promotion?'

'Yes, indeed. He will still be first lieutenant, so he's been promoted from the first lieutenant of a frigate to a ship of the line. The same for the other lieutenants. And I shall have another one, too, a fifth lieutenant. And - if I want that many - up to twenty-four midshipmen.'

'Do you?'

'No, I'll settle for ten or a dozen, but Orsini will be made a master's mate, so that in effect he'll be the senior one. Gianna's nephew has had a good run for his money, being the only midshipman in the Calypso.''

'You mean you could have had more?'

'Oh yes, several more. But one was enough. Midshipmen get into mischief.'

Knowing Ramage's view on parsons, she laughed when she said: 'Do you have to have a chaplain now?'

'Yes,' Ramage said gloomily. 'I got away with it in the Calypso because a frigate doesn't have to carry one unless he applies, and I took care none ever did. Still, with a ship's company of some six hundred men, perhaps a chaplain will be useful.'

After a comfortable lunch, and a report from Jessop that fresh horses would not be available that day, Ramage, still feeling dazed from the drumming of the carriage wheels, decided they would stay the night at The Bell.

'We're in no great hurry,' he told Sarah. 'After so many months at sea, it's a pleasant change to be surrounded by trees and green fields, and to hear the birds singing.'

'It's even better at Aldington,' Sarah said wistfully. 'I was hoping we would be able to go there for a few days. You've seen little enough of your inheritance. Just a few days since your uncle died and the will was read.'