The 'Captain's Journal' was here, started the day Bullivant joined the ship, and Ramage put it in another drawer without reading it. Yes, here was the muster book, and an entry indicated the date that Bullivant had joined the ship 'as per commission'. No one had noted that he was replacing Captain Ramage, who was on leave. Now there was a nice point - in noting that Bullivant had gone to the Murex 'by order of the commander-in-chief ', did Ramage now note that Captain Ramage had taken (resumed?) command 'as per commission', thus having taken command twice without ever having (officially) left the ship? Or did he ignore Bullivant's brief command?

Some tedious quillpusher at the Navy Board could worry about that bureaucratic problem, and no doubt the correspondence ensuing would continue for another ten years. He noted that no seaman had been discharged and no new men had joined the ship.

He put the muster book and letter book back in the drawer, and took Admiral Clinton's order from his smock. Soon he would be back in uniform. Several officers in the flagship had offered spare uniform frocks and breeches, stockings, shirts and stocks, but Ramage guessed that his own clothes would still be in the Calypso, and indeed almost the first thing his steward Silkin had reported was that his trunks had been brought up from the hold and all the clothing was being washed or cleaned or ironed with a sprinkling of vinegar to get rid of the musty smell.

He opened Admiral Clinton's two sets of orders and read the second one again. The admiral and Captain Bennett had drawn them up in a hurry, which ensured brevity.

'Whereas I have received information,' Admiral Clinton's orders began, 'that the French national frigate L'Espoir sailed from Brest very recently carrying as prisoners a large group of men and women accused by the French government of disloyalty and sentenced to transportation and exile in Cayenne, you are hereby required and directed to proceed with all possible dispatch in His Majesty's ship Calypso under your command and make the best of your way towards Cayenne and intercept the said French national frigate L'Espoir and free the prisoners and carry them safely to a port in England, reporting at once to my Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty the success of your mission ...'

He slid the letter between two blank pages in the order book and put the volume back in the drawer, locking it. It was lucky that Bullivant never bothered to put a key in his pocket - every drawer in this particular desk had a different lock.

The shouting, stamping and scuffling on the deck overhead had finally stopped and Ramage listened for feet clattering down the companion way, to be halted at his door by the Marine sentry, who would then call out the person's identity.

He sat back and sighed with sheer pleasure. It was exciting to be back - he had spent so long in this cabin it seemed like home. Indeed, it was his home. Certainly sitting at this desk dressed as a French fisherman was unusual, but there was no time to wait for Silkin's smoothing iron to finish its work.

Since boarding the ship he had used the first fifteen minutes to listen to Silkin (who regarded his sartorial report as the most important the captain would want to hear) and then come down to the great cabin and read his orders once again. He had done this while Aitken prepared the ship for the next step.

And now there were the footsteps clattering down the companion way, and the clank of a sword hilt held high but not high enough to prevent it catching one of the steps.

The thump of feet and clatter of a musket indicated the Marine sentry coming to attention. Two voices, a question (from the sentry, one he would have had to ask even if the visitor had been his own mother), and a reply.

Then a tap on the door and the sentry's voice: 'Captain, sir - the first lieutenant!'

'Send him in.'

And in came a smiling Aitken, crouching slightly because of the low headroom, his sword held clear with one hand, his cocked hat under his arm.

'Ship's company mustered aft, sir.'

'Aitken' - Ramage stood up and walked towards the young Scot, his hand extended. As they shook hands, Ramage added: 'I'm glad to be back and I'm glad I have the same officers.'

'Thank you, sir. We held our breaths when we heard the British ambassador - Lord Whitworth, I think it is - had left Paris, but when you didn't come back from your honeymoon we guessed that the French had captured you and her Ladyship.'

Ramage gestured down at his smock and trousers. 'You didn't expect to meet me off Ushant in this rig! Well, you should see her Ladyship - she's dressed as a fishwife.'

He led the way up the ladder and out on deck. The Marines were lined up in two ranks against the taffrail; Southwick, the lieutenants and Orsini were at the starboard end of the front file, and the seamen formed the other three sides of the square so that the quarterdeck was a box of men.

Ramage had mustered all the men not through any overweening conceit but, because of that confidence always existing among men who have fought beside each other many times, he knew that they wanted to see him and be reassured.

The drunkard who had briefly taken his place had been hoisted out lashed on to a stretcher shouting and screaming that the seamen at the staytackle were doing the Devil's work. Now Bullivant was on his way to Plymouth in the Murex and he could only feel sorry for Sarah. She will, he thought grimly, see and hear what we went through with Bowen. Still, it is a bare 120 miles from Ushant to Plymouth and the Murex should stretch over to the northeast at a good six knots, so that Sarah will have to put up with it for only twenty-four hours. Then she would post to London and very soon the thought of the recent excitement would be like a half-remembered dream.

On top of the main capstan: the ship was not rolling enough to make it difficult for him to balance, and he could look round and see everyone, except for two or three Marines hidden by the mizenmast. But it was a dam' cold wind: the downdraught from the mainsail seemed to go straight through his smock. The advantage of full uniform in a northern climate was its warmth, although it was too hot for the Tropics - the cocked hat, for instance, seemed to gain a pound in weight for every ten degrees of latitude it moved south, so that near the Equator it was about as comfortable as a knight's helmet.

Now the Marines were standing stiffly to attention, the lieutenants frozen to the deck, and the seamen looking up at him, some grinning, some straight-faced, but none sucking teeth. Few captains seemed to realize that the presence or absence of the sucking of teeth revealed more about the men's attitude, happiness or discontent, than anything else.

He spoke a few words of greeting as he pulled the first of Admiral Clinton's orders from the front of his smock and the Marines and lieutenants unfroze. The seamen knew only too well what was coming next and made sure they were standing comfortably.

Ramage unfolded the paper and began the ritual of 'reading himself in'. Until that was completed he could not officially give any orders and expect them to be obeyed; he had purposely made 'stand at ease' a gruff comment rather than an order, and the helm order to Southwick was to save time. Then he began reading.

'By virtue of the power and authority to me given as commander-in-chief of His Majesty's ships and vessels comprising the Channel Fleet, and being off Brest and outside the Channel limits, I Reginald Edward Clinton, Vice-Admiral of the Red, do hereby constitute and appoint you captain of His Majesty's ship the Calypso frigate, willing and requiring you forthwith to go on board and take upon you the charge and command of captain in-her accordingly...'

Ramage paused for breath, cursing the man who had originally (probably a hundred years ago) drawn up the wording, never considering the poor captain who had to recite them loud enough so that over the sound of the wind and the sea every man in a ship's company could hear them. Well, almost all the seamen were grinning now, and he continued.