Since Pareja's voice had trailed off for no apparent reason, Ramage said icily, 'You broke your parole.'

'Sir! How can you suggest...'

'You broke your parole, and there is no basis for discussion. Please present your officers to me.'

Pareja shrugged his shoulders and called to a small group standing by the wheel. They came at once, four young men with barely a couple of years' difference in their ages, and lined themselves up like nervous schoolboys, although Ramage knew they were all about his own age. He was careful to stand three or four paces from them to avoid any handshaking, and Pareja introduced them as the second, third, fourth and junior lieutenants and each bowed in turn.

'And the Master?'

Pareja waved to an unshaven man, perhaps five feet tall but looking more like a weather-stained barrel with legs. Ramage turned to catch Jackson's eye, glancing meaningfully at the pistol tucked in the American's belt and then at Pareja, who missed the byplay.

While the Spanish Master waddled over, resentment, hatred and contempt showing in his face, Jackson moved casually so that he was standing a couple of paces behind Pareja.

As the Master was introduced Ramage knew he could not be left on board. He too would have to be a prisoner; he was obviously a tough, brutal man and capable of any treachery or crime that came into his greasy head. In his place Ramage decided to leave the fourth lieutenant, a willowy and weak-faced youth, foppish in his manner and obviously someone who had more 'interest' at Court than interest in seamanship.

Ramage turned to Pareja.

'With the exception of this gentleman,' he said in English, pointing to the fourth lieutenant, 'you will all go into the boat at once.'

Pareja, dumbfounded by the unexpected order, stared at Ramage, and then stuttered, 'But... but...'

'Translate the order, please.'

'No, I refuse'

Ramage looked at Jackson over the Spaniard's shoulder and nodded.

The muzzle of the American's pistol pressed into the back of Pareja's neck. He stood as if paralysed and Jackson, with a neatly timed sense of the dramatic, cocked the pistol so that Pareja must have felt the click all the way down his spine. Ramage could see beads of perspiration on the man's forehead and upper lip, but because he looked as though he would remain silent, Ramage suddenly snapped out the order in Spanish himself. The suddenness of Jackson's movement and Ramage's unexpected ability to speak Spanish sent the second, third and junior lieutenants walking to the break in the bulwark, but the Master stood firm.

'You, too,' Ramage said.

'No, I stay.'

Ramage was determined not to argue; but he did not want to spend life unnecessarily, so he turned to Pareja with what he hoped was a ruthless expression on his face, at the same time drawing his own pistol and pointing it at the Master.

Speaking in Spanish he said coldly, 'Lieutenant, until yesterday I did not know you existed. Today I do not care whether you exist or not. The same applies to this man. If he does not get into the boat I shall kill you both. It is a matter of no consequence or significance to me or my plans, so please yourself whether or not you give him a lawful order as his senior officer; it is his last chance - and yours, too.'

Pareja now looked as if he would faint before he had a chance to speak: Jackson was pressing the muzzle of the pistol so firmly into his neck he was having to brace himself to avoid being forced to take an undignified pace forward. Finally he whispered to the Master:

'Do as you are told. Get into the boat'

The Master seemed about to disobey, but after glancing at the muzzle of Ramage's pistol and then at his eyes, he shuffled after the others. Ramage then spoke to the fourth lieutenant, standing by himself and obviously scared at having been singled out.

'You are now appointed temporarily in command of La Sabina. You will follow in my ship's wake, day and night. Burn three lights at night, as before. Make sure your men steer carefully. Don't make any mistakes. The first one you make will cause the death of the Master - you'll see his body float past. Then the junior, third, second and first lieutenants. Your sixth will send your captain to perdition. You understand?'

The man nodded, unable to speak.

Ramage motioned Jackson to remove his pistol and Pareja walked to the bulwark.

'You are a barbarian,' he half whispered in English. 'No better than a pirate.'

'You flatter me,' said Ramage coldly, enjoying himself in his temporary role and hard put to stop laughing, and he could not resist adding, 'My pastime is murder. Legally, you understand; it must be done legally - that's half the fun. That's why I enjoy war - don't you? After all, His Most Catholic Majesty declared war on us. We didn't start it, you know. We are just heretics - you remember how your priests used to burn us to save our souls? Since you've shut the gates of Heaven to us we're eternally damned and have nothing to lose. But you, why, if I kill you, you are bound to go to Heaven - aren't you...?'

Ramage looked through the telescope with as much nonchalance as he could muster, forcing himself not to rub his brow as he put the telescope down. Instead, he picked some fluff off the sleeve of his jacket.

The two ships whose sails were now lifting over the horizon to the north-east were frigates, probably out ahead of the Spanish Fleet, though the ludicrous mirage effect which made them appear upside down also made it hard to identify them.

But a few minutes after being sighted by the Kathleen's lookouts they'd altered course towards the cutter, each diverging slightly, so that if Ramage cast off the tow and ran either could cut him off. They obviously had more wind up there and were probably bringing it down with them.

Ramage's face was slack with weariness; his bloodshot eyes seemed sunken now, rather than deep-set. Yet he was freshly shaven, his uniform newly pressed, and without seeing his face one might have thought him an elegant young officer on board a flagship at anchor at Spithead.

He snapped the telescope shut, rubbed his brow for a moment before snatching his hand away, and repeated to himself once again that his duty now was to destroy La Sabina. Yet he knew the Spanish crew, with help at hand, would never let his men get on board to scuttle or burn her, even if it meant the death of their officers held as hostages in the Kathleen. And there wasn't time to rig an explosion boat.

Gianna said in Italian, and it made her voice more intimate. 'We haven't much more time together, caro mio...'

Ramage was startled because he had not seen her and said without thinking, 'No, I'm afraid not,' then added quickly, 'don't worry - you'll probably be rescued again before they get into port. They're bound to be intercepted.'

'Shall we be left alive to be captured?'

It wasn't really a question, and she said it so simply that for a moment he missed its significance.

'We don't fight,' he said almost harshly.

'Why not? Or let's use the hostages. Why not threaten to kill them unless the two ships let us go - we can make a bargain and leave them the wrecked ship.'

'My dear,' he said gently, 'we can't.'

'Why? Why not?' she asked fiercely.

'Because - well, we can't murder prisoners. And we'd have to if they called our bluff.'

'Why can't we? It's war. You once gave us a long lecture about how we Tuscans let Napoleon walk through our country without fighting. Now you have the faint heart. Don't forget the Spanish officers broke their word of honour and sent men with knives to try to murder us last night!'

There must be an answer but he was too weary to think of it, and she added, 'If they capture Antonio and me, we shall be executed.'