Aitken suspected that Captain Wallis had commanded his ship by waving his commission in one hand and the Articles in the other, forever charging men with breaking an article and setting the bosun's mates to work with the cat. With Captain Ramage the only time the men heard of the Articles of War was every fourth Sunday when, by regulation, they had to be read aloud.

 If the Navy suddenly turned republican, he thought, the men would elect Lord Ramage as their captain. Lord Ramage - it was hard to remember he was a lord and, when his father died, would become the Earl of Blazey. How many men in the Navy had a title but refused to use it? Perhaps he would now that he was a captain. According to Southwick it had started when he was a midshipman, when a twelve-year-old with a title might find himself in difficulties on shore when he ranked above his captain socially, and often his admiral as well.

 Aitken tried to picture Captain Ramage as a young midshipman. He must be about twenty-five now. No doubt as a youngster he would have been in constant trouble with his mathematics: even now he knew just enough to make him a good navigator, but no more, and would often make jokes at his own expense about his poor mathematics, or tease Southwick, who had an uncanny knack for adding up rows of figures in his head. What he lacked in mathematics he made up for in seamanship: Aitken had watched him handling the ship on scores of occasions and he did it quite instinctively. As a good rider seems part of his horse, so Captain Ramage seemed to be part of the ship. The way he handled the Juno when he put her alongside this very ship, for example . . .

 Twenty-five was Aitken's age as well, but Ramage had had half a dozen or more Gazettes almost to himself. Wounded three times, sunk twice: it was a remarkable record. Would his luck hold? Luck did not come into the tactics Captain Ramage used. He was lucky only because so far he had not been cut down by a cannon ball or hit by a musket shot.

 Perhaps the most remarkable thing about him was that he had earned every bit of promotion. Having a father who was both an Admiral and the holder of one of the oldest earldoms in the country would normally have ensured rapid promotion; but for much of his career the Admiral had been out of favour with the government - the scapegoat, Southwick said, for some mistake the government of the day had made many years ago.

 Aitken tucked in his shirt and sat down to cool off. From an officer's point of view, the worst thing about the Captain was that his face gave nothing away - unless you watched his eyes. He could be in a fury or he could be making a joke (he had a dry wit) but his face revealed nothing, except for the eyes. They were set deep, like the muzzles of guns in the ports before they were run out, but when he was angry they fixed on you; you could no more avoid them than if they were a pair of pistols aimed at your head.

 Those alarming eyes were going to have plenty of work to do: the Calypso was a fine-looking ship, and from all accounts sailed like a witch, but she would need a broomstick to get into Santa Cruz to cut out the Jocasta. Luckily, most of the ship's company had been in action together several times.

 He heard the steward clattering plates and cutlery as he set the table outside in the gunroom. This was what he had missed while commanding the Juno, the company of men like Bowen and Southwick and Wagstaffe. Phew, he was tired - as indeed every man on board must be, after today's work. The ship still looked a mess to the untrained eye, but she would be ready long before the court martial reached a verdict on the mutineers. In a strange way he wished he had never sighted that Jonathan and taken them off. It was one thing to kill four men with a roundshot fired at an enemy in battle; it was another to cause four men to be hanged from the yardarms.

 He found he was dreading the sound of the signal gun calling the captains to the flagship for the trial.

 At precisely seven o'clock on Monday morning the muffled thud of a signal gun echoed up the channel and across the dockyard, bouncing off the hills and finally losing itself among the valleys. Pelicans paddling lazily round the Calypso suddenly took off, frantically launching themselves with clumsy thrusts from their webbed feet; tiny green herons squawked off into the shelter of the mangrove roots.

 Ramage watched the smoke from the Invincible's gun drift away to leeward and saw high at her mizenmast-head a Union flag break out and flutter lazily in a gentle breeze. Four men now in irons on board the flagship would have heard that gun - it would be only a few feet from where they were under guard - and they would know they were soon to stand trial for their lives over something that happened more than two years ago.

 Will Stafford put down the telescope, picked up the slate and wrote: "7 o'clock, flagship fired one gun and hoisted Union at mizen m'head." He glanced up but decided to wait before adding the rest of the entry: "Captain & First Lieutenant left ship to attend court martial."

 He saw that both officers looked drawn: the skin on the Captain's face was taut, and the light from the sun, still low, emphasized his high cheekbones and deep-sunk eyes. He was tanned, but Stafford saw the strain was there. And the First Lieutenant - Mr Aitken never took a tan, and now he was even more pale, and nervous too, fiddling with his sword, his eyes glancing round the ship. Anyone would think they were on trial, Stafford thought, instead of the two pair o' murderers.

 Ramage saw that the boat was waiting at the starboard gangway, the painter being held forward and the sternfast aft. He patted his pocket to make sure he was carrying his commission and saw Southwick had noticed the gesture and knew what it meant. The Master obviously had in mind discreetly checking that he had not forgotten it.

 The Calypso was the farthest from the Invincible, yet already a boat was on its way from one of the other frigates. Southwick raised an eyebrow and Ramage nodded, whereupon the Master bellowed: "Man the side! " Two seamen ran to the gangway and swung over the side to hold out the manropes for the two officers to grasp as they climbed down the ship's side, treading carefully on the battens that formed narrow steps. Ramage gestured to Aitken, who swung his sword round, jammed his hat firmly on his head and went over the side into the boat. Ramage followed, and when they went alongside the Invincible the sequence would be reversed: the senior officer was the last in and first out of a boat.

 Jackson soon had the men rowing briskly, but Ramage told him to slow down. The court martial began at eight, and within the limits of obeying orders - which meant obeying the seven o'clock gun - he had no wish to waste time on board the flagship in idle chat with the other captains. The Admiral, for once, could sleep in late at his house in the dockyard: he would not appear on board the flagship until the trial was over, because no doubt his great cabin would be used, with refreshments served in the coach.

 The boat was a pistol shot from the Invincible when a Marine sentry shouted "Boat ahoy! " and Jackson bellowed back "Calypso! ", the traditional way of indicating that the boat carried the captain of the ship named. Ramage heard shouted orders and sidesmen appeared to hold out the two manropes.

 Edwards was on deck to greet him, bulky and cheerful, swordhilt gleaming in the early sunlight, the picture of a competent and confident flagship captain. He gestured to two captains standing behind him. Like Ramage, both were wearing epaulets only on their right shoulders, showing that they had less than three years' seniority.