So here they were, members of mess number eight, and Auguste and Albert were put down on the Calypso's muster book as ordinary seamen while he and Louis were still landmen, because they did not yet have the skill of the other two.

And this mess number eight: although no one said anything aloud, Gilbert had the impression that while Jackson, Rossi and Stafford were not the captain's favourites - he was not the sort of man to play the game of favourites - they had all served together so long that they had a particular place. It seemed that each had saved the other's life enough times for there to be special bonds, and Gilbert had been fascinated by things Jackson had explained. Gilbert had noticed his Lordship's many scars - and now Jackson put an action and a place to each of them. The two scars on the right brow, another on the left arm, a small patch of white hair growing on his head ... It was extraordinary that the man was still alive.

However, one thing had disappointed Gilbert: no one, least of all Jackson, Stafford and Rossi, seemed to think they had much of a chance of finding L'Espoir. Apparently once she left Brest she could choose one of a hundred different routes. Oh dear, if only the Count had stayed in Kent. The estate he bought at Ruckinge was pleasant; even the Prince of Wales and his less pleasant friends had been frequent guests, and the Count never complained of boredom. But undoubtedly he had a grande nostalgie for the château and, although expecting it, had been heartbroken when he returned to find everything had been stolen. He had -

The heart-stopping shrill of a bosun's call came down the forehatch followed by the bellow 'General quarters! All hands to general quarters - come on there, look alive... ' Again the call screamed - Jackson said the bosun's mates were called 'Spithead Nightingales' because of the noise their calls made - and again the bellow.

Gilbert followed the others as he remembered 'General quarters' was another name for a man's position when the ship went into battle. He felt a fear he had not experienced in the Murex affair. The Calypso was so big; all the men round him knew exactly what to do; they ran to their quarters as if they were hunters following well-worn tracks in a forest.

Ramage snatched up the speaking trumpet while Aitken completed an entry and returned the slate to the drawer. 'Foremast, deck here.'

'Sail ho, two points on the larboard bow, sir: I see her just as we lift on the top of the swell waves.'

'Very well, keep a sharp lookout and watch the bearing closely.'

Ramage felt his heart thudding. Was she L'Espoir? Keep calm, he told himself: it could be any one of a dozen British, Dutch, Spanish, French or American ships bound for the West Indies and staying well south looking for the Trades. Or even a ship from India or the Cape or South America, bound north and, having found a wind, holding it until forced to bear away to pick up the westerlies.

If the bearing stayed the same and the sail drew closer the Calypso must be overhauling the strange vessel, and it was unlikely that the Calypso was being outdistanced. If the sail passed to starboard, then whoever she was must be bound north; passing to larboard would show she was going south.

Southwick had heard the lookout's hail and came on deck, his round face grinning, his white hair flowing like a new mop.

'Think it's our friend, sir?'

'I doubt it; we couldn't be that lucky. She's probably a Post Office packet bound for Barbados with the mail.'

Southwick shook his head, reminding Ramage of a seaman twirling a dry mop before plunging it into a bucket of water. 'We'd never catch up with a packet. Those Post Office brigs are slippery.'

'Could be one of our own frigates sent out by the Admiralty with dispatches for the governors of the British islands, telling them war has been declared.' Ramage thought a moment and then said: 'Yes, she could be. She'd have sailed from Portsmouth before the Channel Fleet, of course, and run into head winds or been becalmed.'

He looked round and realized that it had been a long time since he had given this particular order: 'Send the men to quarters, Mr Aitken. I want Jackson aloft with the bring-'em-near - he's still the man with the sharpest eyes. I must go below and look up the private signals.'

He went down to his cabin, sat at the desk and unlocked a drawer, removing the large canvas wallet which was heavy from the bar of lead sewn along the bottom and patterned with brass grommets protecting holes that would allow water to pour in and sink it quickly the moment it was thrown over the side.

He unlaced the wallet and removed five sheets of paper. They were held together by stitching down the left-hand side, so that they made a small booklet, a thin strip of lead wrapped round the edge hammered flat and forming a narrow binding.

The first page was headed 'Private Signals' with the note 'Channel Fleet' and the date. The first two paragraphs, signed by Admiral Clinton, showed their importance: they were, with the Signal Book, the most closely guarded papers on board any ship of war.

Ramage noted that the wording of the warning was similar if not identical to that in the document he had studied with Lieutenant Swan on board the Murex.

Any ship of war passing through the area cruised by the Channel Fleet would have a copy of this set of flag tables for challenging and distinguishing friend from enemy. The system was simple: depending on the day of the month (the actual month itself did not matter), there was a special challenge with its own answer.

There were four main vertical columns divided into ten horizontal sections. The first section of the first column contained the numbers 1,11,21,31, and referred to those dates. The section immediately below had 2,12,22, with 3,13,23 below and then 4, 14, 24, until the tenth section ended up with 10, 20, 30, so that every day in a month was covered.

The next column had the same two phrases in each of its ten sections: 'The first signal made is- , and 'Answered by a-', and referred to the next two columns. The third was headed by 'Maintopmasthead', and gave the appropriate signals to be hoisted there, while the fourth and last column headed 'Foretopmasthead' gave the signals to go up there.

Ramage noted that today was the eleventh of the month, and the date '11' was the second in the first column. The 'first signal' made would be a white flag with a blue cross (the figure two in the numeral code of flags) hoisted at the maintopmasthead and a blue flag with a yellow cross (numeral seven) at the foretopmasthead. One ship or the other (it did not matter which) would challenge first with those two, and be answered by a blue, white and red flag (numeral nine) at the maintopmasthead and a pendant over blue pierced with white (numeral zero) at the foretopmasthead. Numeral flags hoisted singly by a senior officer had a different meaning, but these were given in the Signal Book and there could be no confusion.

The last page of the booklet gave the private signals to be used at night - combinations of lights hoisted in different positions, and hails. Ramage noted that whoever thought up the hails must have an interest in geography: the month was divided into thirds, with the various challenges and replies being 'Russia - Sweden', 'Bengal - China', and 'Denmark - Switzerland'.

To complicate the whole system, the day began at midnight for the flag signals (corresponding to the civil day), while it began at noon for the night signals, and thus corresponded with the noon-to-noon nautical day used in the logs and journals.

Ramage repeated the numbers to himself - two and seven are the challenge, nine and zero the reply. He put the signals back in the wallet, knotted the drawstrings, and returned it to the drawer, which he locked.