Nelson laughed and slapped his knee. "You know, young Ramage, it's a strange thing: few people have ever noticed that. The Danes had their ships drawn up outside their capital city just as the French had their fleet anchored in Aboukir Bay - so close to the shore they were sure no ship could get inside them. But the French were wrong, so I won.

"Still, I was sure the Danes would have studied that battle, so when I saw their ships drawn up in a long line outside Copenhagen, I wondered. Had they, I asked myself, really anchored so there was no room between them and the shore or - and this was my sharpest worry - had they found some answer, in case I did intend to use similar tactics, and had set a trap for me?"

"But," Ramage said, "the Danes didn't seem to have learned any lessons from the Battle of the Nile!" . "No. I talked later to the Danish Crown Prince and to their admiral, Olfert Fischer, and I had the impression they regarded the Nile as a far distant place . . . They didn't seem to understand that tactics apply anywhere, from the Equator to the Arctic. Still, I am more interested in you. That must have been a pleasant shock when you found you had rescued your wife! Tell me, did you think she was already dead?"

Ramage paused, briefly, reliving those long months of not knowing whether the ship taking Sarah to England had been sunk in a storm or captured by French privateers - or even a French national ship. "Yes, sir, I must admit that secretly I thought she was dead. I don't believe in miracles, and it seemed only a miracle could have kept her alive . . ."

Nelson nodded understandingly. "It's the not knowing . . . but anyway, she is safe. And a beautiful woman. You're a lucky fellow. And I hear from your father you've just inherited a fine estate down in Kent. What more can you want, eh?"

"Oh, nothing sir. I have everything."

Nelson smiled knowingly. "Except, of course, that the Calypso frigate is always at the back of your mind, and you wonder what action you are missing at sea ..."

This man can see through a thick plank, Ramage thought. "Well, yes sir, in a way. I'm happy enough at the moment, but I know the feeling will creep in."

"Like mist rising at the foot of those chalky Kentish Downs, eh? Well now, what's wrong with the Calypso?"

"Oh, nothing actually wrong with her, sir: too many months' service in the West Indies and the Mediterranean without shipwrights having a chance to set a few things to rights. Anyway, now she's at Chatham and they are busy with her."

"Doing what exactly?"

"Replacing a sprung bowsprit and jibboom, two topsail yards and all three topgallants; putting in new wood at the taffrail - they found some rot. Some new deck planking in way of the guns - where it had been badly scored by the trucks. New copper sheeting in the hanging magazine; replacing some woodwork in the breadroom . . . Replacing all the copper sheathing forward of the foremast - you know how it becomes paper-thin along the waterline at the stem. . That's about all, sir. New sails, and replacing some of the guns . . ."

Nelson examined the nails of his left hand. "When will she be ready for sea?"

"The last I heard (the day before yesterday), in about two weeks, sir."

"You've still got that same master? What was his name, Southwell, South - ah yes, Southwick?"

"Yes, sir. He'll be flattered that you remember his name."

"Ah, he's a good man. Master of the Kathleen cutter when I put you in command, I remember. I see you make a point of always mentioning him in your Gazette letters. He must be one of the most famous frigate masters in the Service. One of the richest, too," Nelson added. "You've done well with prize money. Have you kept mostly the same ship's company?"

When Ramage nodded, the admiral commented: "They will be wealthy men. Some of your ordinary seamen could probably buy me out," he said without malice. "I haven't had much luck with prize money."

And here we are talking about prize money and I'm almost faint with wondering why you asked me to call, Ramage thought. It wasn't to yarn about old times nor discuss the tactics at Copenhagen, nor display your remarkable memory of men.

Did Nelson sense Ramage's train of thought? He looked up at Ramage and grinned. A boyish grin, one which stripped fifteen years from his lined face. "You wonder why I asked your father to tell you to call on me, eh? Isn't it enough that you meet Lady Hamilton and Horatia?"

"Yes, sir," Ramage said, and added shrewdly, "but they're in the drawing room and we are here!"

"And you, my dear Ramage, have had independent commands for too long. If you had served any time in a fleet, you'd know it's more important to please the admiral than handle your ship well."

"Not in your fleet," Ramage said bluntly, the words spilling out before he could stop them.

Nelson grinned again. "I take that as a compliment. How would you like to serve with me?"

Ramage looked so startled that Nelson laughed. "The idea doesn't seem to appeal to you."

"It isn't that, sir ..." Ramage stammered.

"Had you been serving with me, you might at this moment be tacking back and forth in front of a French or Spanish port, keeping an eye on the Combined Fleets of France and Spain. You find that idea daunting?"

Hellfire and damnation, Ramage thought: if in a dream (the only circumstances in which it could happen) Lord Barham had asked Ramage what appointment he would like, he would have asked to be sent to join Lord Nelson. Now here was Lord Nelson himself (and Ramage knew he was not dreaming) offering him just that job, and his mouth suddenly filled with sand and feet, and the right words disappeared up the chimney.

He grabbed at Nelson's earlier remark. "I'm not used to dealing with admirals, sir: I'm short on tact!"

"You're the son of one of the greatest admirals this Navy's ever had, and if gossip tells stories correctly, you've ignored the orders of most admirals you've ever served under. But, so have I," he admitted with a spontaneous grin. "Well, time is getting short - I expect I'll have to rejoin my fleet within a few days, and I'm a great believer in 'better one volunteer than three pressed men'."

"Me - I'm a volunteer, sir," Ramage said quickly, afraid he had offended Nelson by implying tardiness. "You took me by surprise because my name is near the bottom of the Post List and -"

"And it's not often that an admiral commanding a fleet offers a junior post-captain a chance to join him, eh?"

"Exactly, sir," Ramage took a deep breath. "If we can join you, sir - I mean, if you and the Admiralty approve - we'll have the ship ready for sea in a week and as soon as we can get up to Black Stakes and take on our powder, the Calypso could join you."

"Well spoken," Nelson said quietly. "You'll receive your orders from the Admiralty in a few days. In the meantime, if you can pass the word to your man Southwick, and your first lieutenant, of course, that might speed things up. Southwick knows most of the dockyard tricks. Replacing that copper sheathing is the most urgent job. Just the sort of time they run short of sheathing nails."

Ramage looked carefully at Nelson and then decided to chance it. The admiral had chased the French fleet across the Atlantic and back, and he had seen it evade him and join up with the Spaniards. The Combined Fleet must number thirty-five or more ships of the line, and some of those Spaniards carried more than a hundred guns. Nelson must have fewer than twenty ships, though Lord Barham was rushing out every available 74.

"Is there a chance they'll come out and fight, sir?"

Nelson shrugged, a curiously awkward movement which tugged at the empty sleeve. "The French - well, this fellow Villeneuve is no coward, but there's no telling what orders he gets from Bonaparte, who is a great soldier when fighting land battles but doesn't understand the sea. The Spanish? I don't think their hearts are in it. The French can rouse themselves with all this revolutionary nonsense (quite apart from Villeneuve knowing he'll be punished if he loses an action), but the Spanish . . . they seem to be trying to catch hold of Bonaparte's coat-tails, and that won't turn any captain into a fighting demon."