Until he saw where the French frigate was lying, he would not know which broadside he would be using; but each stand of grapeshot comprised ten shot, each larger than a hen's egg and weighing a pound. So one broadside, not including the carronades, would see 160 grapeshot being hurled at the Frenchman by sixteen guns.

The idea, he thought grimly, is to kill Frenchmen without damaging the ship too much: he did not want to end up capturing a hulk which he would have to tow to Naples: he wanted a ship that a prize crew could sail in the Calypso's wake, British colours flying over the French. Of course, he thought, wryly, everything could go wrong and the Frenchman would end up towing the Calypso into Toulon, French colours over the British . . .

"I'm just going below for a moment," he told Aitken, and went down to his cabin. He sat down at his desk and unlocked the top drawer. First he took out a canvas pouch which was rolled up and pushed to the back. The mouth of the pouch had brass eyelets through which a drawstring ran, and the pouch itself was heavy because there was a strip of lead in the bottom. From the drawer he took out the signal book, the little booklet containing the secret challenges and replies, and his journal. He stuffed them into the bag and pulled the drawstring tight. He put the bag back in the drawer, which he left unlocked so that in an emergency the canvas bag could be grabbed and then thrown over the side where it would sink rapidly, taking its secrets with it.

With the canvas bag taken care of he walked over to the forward bulkhead and took down his sword from its rack. He slipped the strap of the scabbard over his shoulder, adjusting the sword down his left side. Secret papers and sword: that was all he had to do. He went back up the companionway, acknowledging the salute of the sentry at his door.

Standing on the fore side of the quarterdeck again, looking over the bow, the island now seemed much nearer: he could make out the folds and fissures in the cliffs and see the waves breaking as a lacy fringe against the rocks lining the coast.

He looked across at Southwick, who grinned cheerfully and said: "Another mile and we'll be able to see round the corner. We'll probably find that the frigate's not there: she left last night north-about round the island bound for Toulon."

"I hope not: you haven't been in action for several weeks, and I don't want you to get out of the habit."

"If she's there, let's lay alongside and board her," Southwick said, slapping the scabbard of his sword. "Let me lead one of the boarding parties: that'll save m'sword from getting rusty."

Boarding parties! The ship's company was already organized into boarding parties in the quarters bill, which every man knew by heart. But it was necessary to give specific orders to the Marines.

"Pass the word for Mr Rennick," he told Aitken.

The Marine lieutenant arrived, smart in his uniform, face redder than usual because of the tightness of his collar, and with his sword swinging by his side.

"Ah, Rennick. If we get the chance of boarding this fellow round the corner - and we don't even know yet if he's still there - I want you and your Marines to board aft and secure the quarterdeck, particularly the wheel. It'll be up to you, in other words, to seize control of the ship."

"I understand perfectly, sir," Rennick said cheerfully. "Do you want us to cut the wheelropes?"

"No, certainly not," Ramage said hastily. "I want to get her under way again with the least delay."

"Very well, sir," Rennick said, saluting smartly and hurrying down the ladder, to where his men were drawn up in two files, the drummer boy on the right" and Sergeant Ferris standing in front of them. Ferris had previously inspected every man. He had found fault with the pipeclay on four crossbelts and the straps of three muskets. Two men's hair was not tidy enough and the polish on four pairs of boots did not measure up to his exacting standards. The names of all the offending men had been taken; after the action they would be called to account.

Rennick stood in front of the men while Ferris called them to attention. Briefly Rennick gave them their orders. Without saying so in as many words, Rennick managed to convey the idea that the Marines had been singled out to secure the quarterdeck; that it was a task that could not be left to the sailors. Rennick was a firm believer in healthy competition; in his imagination he could already see himself reporting to Mr Ramage that the Frenchman's quarterdeck had been secured. Most of the time the Marines had to do all the humdrum tasks in the ship-sentries at the watercask, the captain's cabin door, the magazine and so on. Very occasionally -all too rarely - they had the chance to shine.

Ramage felt surprisingly cheerful. It was probably the reaction from earlier in the day, but frigate against frigate was a much more cheerful proposition than a frigate against two ships of the line was. In fact, he admitted, the prospect of a frigate against two ships of the line was very depressing, and it was no credit to him that they had survived the encounter. It was a point that would not be lost on their Lordships, that it was a mistake on the part of the French captain which had caused the collision, not a brilliant stroke by Captain Ramage. The most that he could claim, Ramage thought, was that he had given the Frenchman a hint. Not a hint that had caused the collision, but a hint that set him moving in the right direction.

Meanwhile the southern tip of the island was a great deal nearer and now fine on the larboard bow. Ramage took up his telescope and examined the headland.

"There looks to be deep water close in," he told Aitken. "We'll pass round it a cable off."

Two hundred yards should keep them clear of any stray rocks without making them pass round the headland so far off that the Frenchman would spot them sooner than he need. Round the corner the cliffs would drop away, likely as not, giving way to flatter land. The vital thing was the first sight of the frigate. On it would depend the way the Calypso attacked her: which broadside would be fired first, whether it was going to be a matter of slamming alongside her as she lay at anchor and boarding her in the smoke, or whether it would turn into a battle of broadsides, the Frenchman cutting her anchor cable and getting under way so that she could manoeuvre.

If she got under way, Ramage realized, he would have lost his greatest advantage, surprise: if only he could get round the headland and on to the anchored ship - presupposing she was there and at anchor - he would gain several minutes because the Calypso looked like a French ship and was flying French colours, but it would be a matter of minutes before the Frenchman challenged and then became suspicious of the way the Calypso was manoeuvring.

Suddenly the Calypso was round the headland. Spreading out on the larboard side the coast went straight for a mile or two, then came eastward and seaward to form a small peninsula with an old fort perched in the middle of it, and then beyond the land curved round in a great bight, with a small harbour - obviously Capraia itself- in the corner. And the frigate was at anchor just off the end of the peninsula, her main and foreyards down on deck, obviously being worked on by the French carpenters. She could not get under way: that much was certain.

Rake her or board? Ramage thought quickly. Raking her meant sailing to and fro across her stern, firing broadsides into her unprotected transom to hurl the shot the length of the ship. Boarding meant pitting the Calypso's boarding parties against the entire French crew, with only a certain amount of surprise on their side. Practically none, in fact. It would take them time to load guns and run them out to fire broadsides: it would take only a minute to snatch up sword or pike to repel boarders.