The next column, bearing and distances at noon, had been left blank, and there was only one entry under 'Remarkable Observations and Accidents', which recorded putting all the prisoners in irons for twenty-four hours after two of them had started fighting.

Across in the Calypso, Ramage had just worked out the noon sight and compared his position with those of Aitken and Southwick. They tallied within three or four miles, and with the ship rolling and pitching with following wind and sea, so that taking a sight was like trying to shoot a hare from the back of a runaway horse, that was close enough.

He opened his journal and under the 'Latitude' column wrote 6 degrees, 45 minutes North; next to it was recorded the longitude, 52 degrees, 14 minutes West. The Îles du Salut, according to the French pilot book, were 5 degrees, 17 minutes North and 52 degrees, 36 minutes West, so... they were... yes, ninety miles on a course of south by west a quarter west. Which meant no change in the course, but because they were making eight knots and he wanted to bring the mountains in sight soon after dawn, both the Calypso and La Robuste were going to have to reduce canvas: a little under five knots would bring the mountains in sight at daybreak so that the ships' companies would be breakfasted by the time the three islands were sighted. Providing of course the visibility was reasonable. Often there was a haze along a lee shore, presumably caused by the sea air meeting the land air, and the mistiness thrown up by the waves breaking on rocks and sandy beaches.

He wiped the pen, put the top on the ink bottle, and replaced everything in the drawer. He found Southwick and Aitken on deck.

'If the chronometer is not playing games, and if there's not a radical change in the speed of the current as we close the coast...' Ramage said.

'Ninety miles, I make it,' Southwick said.

'Which means we might run up on the beach in the night,' Ramage commented. 'Mr Aitken, we'll try her under topsails, and then a cast of the log, if you please. Five knots will be quite enough, so we can furl the courses and get in the t'gallants and royals.'

Aitken picked up the speaking trumpet while Ramage went aft to the taffrail and looked astern at the Calypso's wake. Despite the speed she was making and the wild rolling, the wake was no more than the first wrinkles on a beautiful woman's face: the French designer had produced a fast and sea-kindly hull which slipped through the water without fuss.

La Robuste was a fine sight. He could imagine how often over the past days Wagstaffe, Kenton and Martin had been measuring the angle to the Calypso's mainmasthead, to maintain that magic distance of a cable. He smiled to himself because although Wagstaffe might not realize it, the next few minutes were something of a test. Wagstaffe was a fine seaman and steady, a good navigator and popular with the men. He had shown himself, in other words, to be an excellent lieutenant. He could and did carry out orders with precision. And, as Bowen had pointed out to Admiral Clinton, this is what Bullivant could do. Bullivant had only failed when he made the enormous jump from taking orders as a lieutenant to making decisions and giving orders as a captain.

How about Wagstaffe?

The Calypso's bosun's mates finished the shrill notes of their calls and bellowed orders: now came the thud of bare feet as the men ran to their stations. Sails would not be furled as fast as usual, since half the Calypso's men were now over in La Robuste, but - he took out his watch - with similar ships and similar sails set it would be interesting to compare times.

The squeal of ropes rendering through blocks, the shouts of bosun's mates, the grunts of men straining as they heaved on ropes ... And the great rectangle of the maincourse, which for days had been billowing in a graceful curve, suddenly crumpled and distorted as the wind spilled when the lower corner of each side began to be pulled diagonally towards the middle.

And damnation, La Robuste was beginning to clew up her maincourse, too! Wagstaffe had plotted his noon position against the latitude and longitude of the Îles du Salut: he must have realized that the two ships would have to slow down to avoid arriving in the night, and he had his men waiting out of sight, waiting for the first wrinkles to appear in the Calypso's maincourse ... Yes, Wagstaffe passed the test...

Looking forward again and upward Ramage could see the men on the Calypso's mainyard furling the sail neatly and securing it with gaskets, the long strips of canvas keeping it in place. He glanced at his watch and then looked at La Robuste and waited for the last gasket to be passed. The Calypso won by under half a minute, and that victory could no doubt be explained by defects in La Robuste's running rigging and the poor state of her gaskets - he had seen two tear in half, weakened by the heat and damp of a year in Far Eastern waters.

Forecourses were clewed up and then furled and La Robuste's time was better, allowing for the fact that Wagstaffe had to wait for the Calypso to make the first move because his orders were to conform with the Calypso. In topgallants ... the same. Obviously the Calypsos in La Robuste were enjoying themselves.

It was going to be a busy afternoon - preparations for making a landfall were, in this case, the same as for entering harbour, and as soon as the last sail was furled and the last topman down on deck again, Ramage nodded to Southwick, who was responsible for the fo'c'sle and all that went on there. The heavy anchor cable would have to be roused out while the blind bucklers closing the two hawsepipes would have to be taken off. That was always a difficult job under way with a following sea, since the bucklers were fixed securely to prevent seas coming in through the hawseholes.

One end of the first cable would then be led out through the starboard hawse and back on board again and secured to the ring of one of the two anchors on the starboard side. Then the end of a second cable would be led out of the larboard hawse and back to the ring of one of the two larboard anchors. People were often surprised that a ship the size of a frigate in fact carried six anchors and eight cables (seven of them each eighteen and a half inches in circumference and 720 feet long). But such people had never seen a ship at anchor in a high and a heavy sea.

The covers needed taking off the boats and a couple of quarterdeck guns should be loaded with blank charges in case it was necessary to make an urgent signal to LaRobuste. And ... well, Ramage admitted, that was about all. All that was needed next morning was the sight of the three mountains close to the mouth of the River Kourou, Pointe Charlotte and the Îles du Salut. Still, he'd be quite satisfied if they sighted the 'very remarkable conical hill' called Mont Diable in the pilot book but presumably Montagne du Diable, and which should warn in good time that he was a little too far south. Diable, diable ... it had started off with Bullivant in his delirium seeing Satan; now English devils in the imagination were going to be replaced by French diables in fact.