The Spaniard glanced from side to side, avoiding Ramage's eyes, his fat face glistening with perspiration.

'Captain Marmion,' Ramage said in a deceptively calm voice, 'Your officers were on parole. They gave their word of honour they would obey my orders.'

'It seems they disobeyed them.'

The Spaniard's tone was defiant now.

'They obeyed your orders, then.'

'Yes, it was my idea.'

Ramage gripped the sides of the doorway so hard the battens began to bend, but a moment later his anger was under control.

'Earlier today I could have sunk your ship and left you and your men swimming. By now you would all be dead.'

'And why didn't you?' Marmion sneered. 'Because you want the honour and glory of capturing a frigate.'

And of course Marmion was partly right.

'That has nothing to do with breaking parole.'

'It is ridiculous,' Marmion exclaimed. 'A cutter capturing a frigate! Whoever heard of...'

'But we have, my dear Marmion, we have. A cutter has captured a frigate. And, I haven't changed my mind, at dawn you will be put back on board and, to save myself the bother of towing, I shall demonstrate how a cutter can sink a frigate. How many in your ship's company? Say three hundred? Think of three hundred survivors - if all of them survive the explosion I shall have arranged in the magazine - clinging to the wreckage, and the sun rising and getting hotter and hotter and all of you thirstier and thirstier ... By tomorrow night, you'll have all been driven mad - except those who were too weak to hold on and drowned. Goodnight, captain. I wish I could send you a priest; you won't have much time to make your peace in the morning.'

By the time Ramage was called by the master's mate just before dawn he had decided how to avoid a repetition of the previous night's antics, and as he shaved he took malicious pleasure in the thought that Captain Marmion would have spent a sleepless night anticipating an unpleasant death. The pleasure was only slightly marred by the fact his steward had not stropped his razor properly and the water was almost cold, and he winced at every stroke of the blade.

On deck it was cold; dawn warned of its approach by a dimming of the stars and the hint of grey in the black of night. Appleby reported the Kathleen's, speed - still only a couple of knots - and that the wind had not changed.

Then Ramage realized he had forgotten something which might - apart from the attempt at boarding - have led to the Kathleen's capture during the night. If the wind had dropped there would have been no strain on the cable, which would have sunk, and its enormous weight would have pulled the cutter and La Sabinatogether. The frigate would probably have ranged alongside and one broadside would have destroyed the cutter - or a Spanish boarding party would have overwhelmed the ship's company ... He felt sick at his foolhardy over-confidence; it was the worst peril after winning the first round of a battle.

The sky to the eastward was lightening perceptibly.

'Beat to quarters, Mr. Appleby, if you please.'

It was routine in wartime to meet the dawn with the ship's company standing to the guns and ready for action. After the excitement of the last twenty-four hours, Ramage wanted to hear only one hail, 'The horizon's clear', and that would not come until it was light enough to send a lookout up to the masthead. For once he was looking forward to breakfast. He remembered just in time to tell Appleby to send the men to quarters quietly. The rattling of the drum would give the game away.

In quick succession, he was joined by Southwick, Antonio and Jackson. The Italian knew the dawn routine, and betrayed no anxiety at the order.

'Good morning, Nico. You anticipate any excitement?'

'No .- at least, not from the frigate, but there may be another ship in sight.'

'Have you thought of a suitable punishment for the Spanish lieutenant, and the rest of the gentlemen over there who broke their parole?'

'Not yet. Make 'em scrub the deck on their knees, perhaps!'

Antonio laughed. 'But the prisoners we have on board need many of our men to guard them.'

'I know; I shall be disposing of them shortly.'

Ramage chuckled as Antonio, Southwick and Jackson all stiffened, obviously misinterpreting 'disposing'.

‘I shall dispose of them, Mr. Southwick, by sending them back in their own boat.'

The Master shuffled his feet, and then said apologetically, 'If you'll forgive me, sir, but is that wise? After all, they'll have seen how short-handed we are ...'

'They must have guessed that from the start. But think of the surprise when all their boarding party led by their first lieutenant row back with bruised heads! Don't forget that at this very moment everyone on board that frigate thinks the Kathleen is a prize, that the boarding party has killed most of us.'

'By God, I'd forgotten that,' Southwick exclaimed gleefully, slapping his thigh.

'Yes, and before they recover, our gig will be alongside to take off all her officers, except the Master.'

Antonio drew his hand across his throat.

'You cut off the snake's head.'

'Precisely.'

'Unless, of course, the snake strikes first, and refuses to have its head cut off. In other words, the officers refuse to leave the ship.'

'We have their captain, don't forget,' Ramage said. 'He's our hostage. By the way Mr. Southwick, we'll have Spanish colours run up over ours, if you please.'

As soon as the lookout climbed the shrouds and reported the horizon clear, Ramage told Southwick to get the prisoners over the side into their boat. Once they were sitting on the thwarts, bruised, bleary, frightened and bewildered, Ramage ordered them to row to La Sabina, snubbing Pareja by giving the order to a seaman.

Five minutes later, after protests from Southwick, he handed him the telescope. 'They're on board. I can just imagine the look on Teniente Pareja's face as he describes what happened. Right, if the gig's ready it's time for me to join them.'

'Let me go, sir!'

'Please, Mr. Southwick, don't let's go into all that again. Apart from anything else, you don't speak Spanish and you'd probably miss some significant remark.'

'Aye aye, sir,' the Master said with as much disapproval in his voice as he dare express.

The crew were already in the gig as Ramage climbed down. Suddenly he realized that with the Spaniards' boat already alongside the frigate and the Kathleen's only remaining boat going alongside in a few minutes, the Spaniards could (if they thought of it) capture both and by risking their captain's life scupper his only weapon, the explosion boat.

'Mr. Southwick,' he called. 'I want a dozen more men. I'll send the gig straight back and bring the Spanish officers over in their own boat.'

A group of Spanish officers were waiting at the gangway for them to come on board, but Jackson put the gig neatly alongside the other boat and, with Ramage and the dozen extra seamen, leapt in, leaving the gig to drift clear and row back to the Kathleen.

The whole manoeuvre had taken place so smoothly and quickly that Ramage knew the Spaniards had either been taken by surprise or had not realized the importance of boats. Lieutenant Pareja was waiting for him as he reached the gangway, followed by Jackson.

As the Spaniard began his long formal greeting he gingerly removed his hat, revealing a plaster stuck on the crown of his head. His face was white and he winced in pain as, his bow completed, he stood upright again. Even as he winced he saw the scar over Ramage's brow was now a white slash against the tan, as if the skin was too taut, and the eyebrows were drawn into a straight line. Then he looked into the deep set eyes.