'Look,' Stafford said, pointing at the shiny metal rectangle of the flintlock, 'you see the flint there, just like wiv a pistol or musket.'

He waited for Gilbert to translate to Auguste, Albert and Louis and then continued: 'Only you don't have no trigger like a hand-gun. Instead the lanyard - well, translate that.'

He paused because he really meant that the flintlock of a great gun did not have the kind of trigger that you put your finger round, and he was rapidly realizing that a good instructor was a man who could explain complicated mechanisms and thoughts in a simple way. Jackson was good at it. The captain was fantastic.

'Yers, well, this lower bit is the trigger: when yer put a steady strain on the lanyard (yer don't jerk it),' he emphasized, 'it pulls the trigger part up towards the ring the lanyard threads through down from - translate that!' he exclaimed, having lost both the lanyard and the thread of his explanation.

Gilbert looked up politely and said gently: 'Stafford, we can see very well how it works. Your very clear explanation - it is not really necessary.'

'Ah, good,' sighed a mollified Stafford, with a triumphant glance at Rossi, who had earlier been jeering at the Cockney's attempts to explain the loading and firing of the Calypso's 12-pounders. 'Now, here is the pricker.' He held up a foot-long thin rod, pointed at one end and with a round eye at the other, and for which he as second captain of this particular gun was responsible.

He passed the pricker, which was like a large skewer, to Gilbert to inspect and waited while the others looked. 'Ze prickair,' Auguste repeated. 'Alors.'

'No, just "pricker",' Stafford corrected amiably. 'Now, you saw the flannel what the cartridge is made of and what 'olds the powder. Well, now, forget that for a minute and we'll go back to the lock. That's got to make a spark what fires the gun ...'

He waited for Gilbert's translation and noted to himself that the French seem to make things sound so difficult.

'Well, you see this 'ole 'ere leading down into the barrel - same as in a pistol, the touch'ole. Well, instead of just sprinklin' powder in the pan and lettin' it fill up the touch'ole, so that when the flint sparks off the powder and sends a flash of flame down the touch'ole to set off the charge ... No, well, in a ship the roll or the wind could ... well, we put a special tube in the touch'ole and sprinkle powder in the pan and cover the end...'

Gilbert translated a shortened version.

'Now, just remember that. But the flash down the touch'ole won't go through the flannel of the cartridge. Ho no, nothing like. That's why we use the pricker. Before we put in the tube, we jab the pricker down the touch'ole and wriggle it about so we're certain sure it's made an 'ole in the cartridge right under the touch'ole, and that means if you looked down the touch'ole you'd see the powder of the cartridge - if the light was right, o'course.'

Gilbert translated but the other three men, who had already worked it all out, having seen the little tubes in their special box, were beginning to suck their teeth.

'Now, in goes the tube and we pour some powder into the pan and cover the end of the tube, just to make sure the spark of the flint really makes it take fire ... The tube explodes (well, not really, it makes a flash, which goes down the touch'ole of course) and that explodes the powder in the flannel cartridge -'

'And forces the shot up the barrel and out of the muzzle,' Gilbert said quickly.

'That's right! Good, I'm explaining it clearly enough, then,' Stafford said smugly. 'Next, now we know 'ow to fire the gun-'

'We must learn how to load it,' Rossi said triumphantly. 'You forgot that!'

'I was goin' to explain the dispart sight,' Stafford said sulkily.

'Only the gun captain uses that,' Rossi said. 'Leave it to Jackson to explain.'

'Oh well,' Stafford said in the most offhand manner he could contrive, but which did not reveal his relief as he realized that in fact he did not really understand how a dispart sight worked, 'we'll do loading now.'

Gilbert coughed. 'We watched when you had gunnery practice the day before yesterday,' he said. 'It is the same as for a pistol except you "swab out" the barrel. "Swab out" - that is correct, no? And you "worm" it every few rounds with that long handle affair which has a metal snake on the end. To pull out any burning bits of flannel cartridge which might be left inside -'

'Yes, very well, I'm glad you've understood that,' Stafford said, tapping the breech of the gun with the pricker and preening himself in the certainty that the Frenchmen's understanding was due to his explanation. 'The rest is obvious: you saw how we use these handspikes' - he pointed to the two long metal-shod bars, like great axe handles - 'to lift and traverse the gun. "Traversing" is when you aim it from side to side, and you say "left" or "right", not "forward" or "aft". Now, to elevate the gun, you -'

'Lift up the breech using a handspike as a lever,' Gilbert said.

'That's right,' Stafford said encouragingly. It was not as hard to explain difficult things as he had expected, even when your pupils are Frenchmen who do not speak a word of English.

'Then,' Gilbert continued, reminding Stafford of his role as translator, 'you pull out or push in - depending on whether you are raising or lowering the elevation - this wooden wedge under the breech. What you call the "quoin", no?'

'Well, we pronounce it "coin", but you are understanding.'

Rossi chuckled and said: Tell the Frogs about "point-blank".'

Gilbert grinned at the Italian. 'We have a rosbif explaining to a frog with a Genovese watching. What is a Genovese called?'

'I don't know,' Rossi said expansively. 'Tuscans call us the Scottish of the Mediterranean, but who are Tuscans to cast stones?'

'Why Scottish?' Stafford asked. 'You don't wear kilts or play a haggis or anything.'

'You eat haggis,' Rossi said. 'It is some kind of pudding. They make it from pigs, I think. No, Scottish because the Genovesi are said to be - well, "careful" I think is the word. We don't rattle our money in our purses.'

'Ah, "mean" is the word, not "careful",' Stafford declared.

Rossi shrugged. 'I am not interested in the word. Is not true, not for the Genovesi or the Scozzesi.'

'Point-blank,' Stafford said, 'is the place where a roundshot would hit the sea if the gun barrel was absolutely 'orizontal when the shot fired. About two hundred yards, usually. The shot doesn't go straight when it leaves the gun but curves up and then comes down: like throwing a ball. There!' he said to Rossi. 'Yer thought I didn't know!'

Shouts from aloft cut short Rossi's mocking laugh and Gilbert began translating for the other three.

'She's hove-to on the starboard tack, sir,' Jackson shouted down from the mainmasthead. 'Waiting for us to come down to her.'

'What is she?'

'Frigate, looks as though she could be French-built, sir, but she's too far off to distinguish her colours.'

Ramage turned aft and began to walk, hands clasped behind his back, oblivious of the glances of the guns' crews on each side of the quarterdeck.

A French frigate: 32 guns or so, a hundred and fifty men or less in peacetime, and her captain with no idea the war had started again. Unless she had sighted L'Espoir. In which case she would know not only about the war but where L'Espoir was perhaps only a few hours ago. In the meantime, the fact that she had hove-to, waiting for the Calypso to run down towards her (like an affectionate dog rolling over on its back in anticipation of a tickled belly) meant that she had recognized the Calypso as French-designed and built: her distinctive and graceful sheer would be seen particularly clearly as she approached, taking in her stunsails.