Ramage fought off a desire to giggle with relief. "The Bajos de León," he said. "Three scattered shoals. At this state of the tide they have just enough water for a frigate to get across, but not enough for a 74."

Jackson, the only man to spot a slight darkening of the water indicating one of the three shoals, heaved a sigh of relief. So the "steer small, blast you," had been important after all.

"Congratulations, sir," Aitken said lamely, his Scots accent broad. "No wonder you were so interested in the Cortadura Fort. South-west by west, one and three quarter miles! Do we go back and try to pick up any of those Frenchmen?"

Ramage looked astern at the wreck. She was perched on the shoal. More than perched: she was on there for good. Her gunports were out of the water - she was now just a hulk with her masts over the fo'c'sle; they had gone by the board as they always did when a fast-moving ship hit a shoal. And the sea was not too bad and the shore was - yes, one and three quarter miles away.

"No, they won't have lost all their boats and anyway they can make rafts. And the Cortadura Fort will be sending a horseman into town to tell them the glad news, so there'll soon be help. Wish we knew the name. Go about, Mr Aitken and cross her stern: we'll look silly reporting to His Lordship that we've polished off a ship of the line but don't know her name!"

The ship was Le Brave and Ramage was still looking at the hulk perched on the shoal (he reckoned it was the easternmost of the three) when Aitken reported that the Euryalus was closing from the south-west. A minute later, Orsini called that she was flying the Calypso's pendant numbers.

Ramage realized that Blackwood had been too far away to see what had happened: even now he would see through his bring-'em-near only the Calypso circling what would look at that distance like a large, flat rock roughly in the position of the shoals.

What, Blackwood asked using Popham's Code, had happened?

It was the time for a witty signal, but Ramage could think of nothing. Southwick had a chart spread over the top of the binnacle box, obviously checking up the Bajos de León and trying to recover from his embarrassment at firstly forgetting them and second not guessing that Ramage intended to lure the Frenchman on to them, and that was why he had wanted the Frenchman to chase as closely as possible . . .

Bajos de León ... the Lion Shoals . . . something witty like "Lured enemy into lion's den . . ." Yes, but the nearest Popham's Code had to "lure" was "lurks-ed-ing", and the nearest to "lion" was "Lizard", the headland rather than the animal. To be witty a signal had to be crisp. He took the slate and the old Signal Book, and after he had finished writing he gave the slate to Orsini and told him to make the signal to the Euryalus.

The foremast lookout hailed and after listening with the speaking trumpet Aitken pointed northwards to the headland on which the Castillo de San Sebastián stood, four-square and menacing in the grey day. Coming round the headland and heading out to sea was a 74, followed almost immediately by a second and then a third. Ramage took up a telescope. A fourth . . . now a three-decker . . . now a frigate . . . another 74 ... Villeneuve was (at last) taking the Combined Fleet to sea instead of letting them crowd in Cadiz Bay.

Orsini had finished making the signal to the Euryalus reporting Le Brave's situation. "Is Captain Blackwood making any signal to the Sirius?" Ramage asked.

"A moment, sir." Orsini braced himself with his telescope. "Yes, sir, there go the Sirius's pendants." The young Italian read off the signal flags: yes, Blackwood was making a signal to Captain Prowse to repeat to the next frigate in sight: within twenty minutes, Lord Nelson would know that the Combined Fleet was actually sailing from Cadiz . . .

"Steer west," Ramage told Aitken. "We need to be seaward and to the north of the Combined Fleet before the French admiral gets it formed up."

As soon as he had spoken Ramage began to wonder. He had told Aitken to get the Calypso to the north of the Combined Fleet but, if the French admiral was making his way to the English Channel, then the Calypso would stand in his way - with more than a couple of dozen French and Spanish 74s to chase him, and no Bajos de León . . .

He had, without thinking, assumed that Admiral Villeneuve would steer south for the Strait of Gibraltar and the Mediterranean, going after General Craig's convoy. Which meant that he accepted Perez's rumour. But supposing Blackwood (who was commanding this little inshore squadron of frigates, a schooner and cutter) gave him orders to stay to the south?

Blackwood, he suddenly realized, knew nothing of Perez's rumour; he knew nothing of the chance that Villeneuve might be making for the Gut. There was no mention of it in the "memorandum" from Nelson delivered by the Pickle. That dealt only with His Lordship's intention of cutting the enemy's line in two places . . .

Blackwood had controlled his Inshore Squadron with a loose rein. The best thing for the Calypso to do, to avoid being run down by a swarm of 74s, was to get up to the northward without waiting for orders and hope that Villeneuve would steer southwest immediately he was clear of San Sebastián headland, so that Blackwood (while he might not guess that the French were heading for the Gut and the Mediterranean) would at least keep the frigates to the northwards.

Already the Calypso was turning north-westwards, sheets eased and yards trimmed to a wind on the larboard quarter. Le Brave was quickly being left on the starboard quarter, and through his glass Ramage could see French seamen (looking in the distance like a swarm of ants) cutting away the rigging and sails, obviously to get at the boats stowed on the booms. Well, Le Brave was sitting firmly on the shoal and there was no urgency because the ship could not sink.

The only urgency, Ramage thought grimly, concerns the Calypso herself: she has to pass ahead of the Combined Fleet which is at last getting out to sea: she has to pass ahead and get a safe distance to the north of them.

Orsini reported: "The Euryalus is making a signal to the Phoebe to move westwards to repeat signals to the Defence." A couple of minutes later he was reporting another of Blackwood's signals, this time to Captain Peter Parker in the Weazle cutter, telling him to sail south immediately to warn Rear-Admiral Louis that the Combined Fleet had sailed.

Southwick shook his head sadly. "Poor Admiral Louis. He's a fine man. He must have been upset when Admiral Nelson sent him off with those other ships to water at Gibraltar and get bullocks from Tetuan. There's no chance that the Weazle can warn him in time to get here for the battle."

"When is the battle?" Aitken inquired sarcastically. "Do you have the programme? If you have, you might give me a sight of it!"

"Tomorrow or the next day," Southwick said flatly. "Admiral Nelson will give 'em time enough to get well clear of Cadiz (he won't want to risk frightening them back in again or give them a bolt-hole once the fighting starts), so you can work it out yourself. "

He took off his hat and scratched his head in a familiar gesture. "They don't get up very early, these French and Spaniards. So they'll spend most of the rest of the day manoeuvring. With a mixed fleet he's never taken to sea before, this Admiral Villeneuve will (if he's got any sense) spend a few hours making 'em back and fill and get into position. I can't see 'em doing much else than jogging along like sheep during the night - plenty of flares and a few collisions, I expect. Tomorrow - well, by then he'll be clear of here with them steering in the right direction, and I can't see Lord Nelson being far away."