Stafford climbed up on to the cart beside him, saw the Spanish driver had woken and was trying to focus his eyes on the bottle and, holding the tin mug steady in the man's hand, poured in more brandy. Ramage, almost shaking with impatience and anxiety, swore he'd wait for Stafford to report, instead of asking him at once.

The Cockney watched with admiration until the Spaniard had swilled down the drink, then took the mug and looked inquiringly at Ramage, who nodded, unsure for a moment whether Stafford was asking for a drink himself or offering Ramage one. Stafford poured a small amount into the mug and drank it, sucking his teeth appreciately.

The horse stank, and Ramage's head ached from the sun glaring on the bleached rock lining the road and the white dust covering its surface. What little wind there was came from behind and kept the dust cloud raised by the horse's hooves just where the three men sat.

'Cor, me froat was parched, sir,' Stafford announced.

He glanced at the Spaniard who was still holding the reins but had fallen asleep again, and pulled a small box from the front of his shirt. He showed Ramage two pieces of soap, each of which bore the impressions of one large and two small keys.

'Lovely desk, sir: solid me'ogany. Four men could sleep on it. Free drawers. Top one's big - them's the impressions of each side of the key,', he said, pointing to the upper marks on the pieces of soap. 'Other two drawers is smaller. I reckon 'e'd keep letters and secret fings in the top one 'cause the front of the drawer is much ficker wood. Bottom two is just fick enough to take the lock.'

To Ramage, the designs on the soap seemed more beautiful and infinitely more valuable than if they had been castings of silver inlaid with gold.

'You're sure you can make keys from those impressions?'

Stafford gave a contemptuous wave. 'I can make perfect keys usin' just the impression left on the back o' me 'and ten minutes after I pressed it, sir,' he said, and then looked away quickly as Ramage glanced round in surprise.

'I thought you always worked by day?'

'Only worked at night when times was 'ard, sir. Difficult not to when y'ain't got even a crust in the 'ouse.'

‘I suppose not,' Ramage said noncommittally, knowing that faced with the choice he would do the same. 'But you're sure you'll be able to tackle the door locks?'

'If I can get a sight of 'em, yers: don't worry, sir.'

And instinctively Ramage knew he need not worry: a boy who had been forced to burgle to eat and then grown into a man who served cheerfully in the Navy after beiag swept up by a press gang and become one of the best topmen Ramage had ever seen (apart from standing by his captain when he could have gained his freedom) could deal with most situations he met.

But would the major-domo at Don Ricardo's house accept their offer of help when he found the carters were too drunk to carry the furniture?

Stafford had all the keys made within a couple of days because fortunately the major domo had been only too glad to have the three foreign sailors help carry the furniture into the house; indeed, he had thanked them specially for driving the carts for the last mile since by then each of the carters had relapsed into a drunken stupor.

Ramage and Jackson had carried in a few chairs when suddenly Ramage had noticed that Stafford was missing and then discovered that the first time the Cockney had entered the house he had seen what Ramage had failed to notice - the key of a side door hanging on a hook on the wall. Within five minutes of first removing the key Stafford had taken it to the cart to make the impression, stowed the two pieces of soap in his little box, and returned the key to the hook.

After that it had been simple: Stafford had told Ramage the few tools he needed, and a blacksmith had been only too willing to sell some strips of metal. During the two days that Stafford had been filing away in their room at the inn, with one or two of the other sailors always lolling about casually, but keeping guard in case the innkeeper or his wife heard the rasping, Ramage or Jackson would stroll past Don Ricardo's house to see if the Admiral had arrived. On the evening he finished the keys, Stafford came to Ramage and said: 'I'd like to try 'em tonight, sir, just to be on the safe side.'

Ramage thought for a moment. To be sure all the servants in Don Ricardo's house were asleep, Stafford would have to be out after curfew. Trying the keys meant risking being caught burgling the house and completely wrecking Ramage's plan. But if they didn't fit they'd be useless on the night they were needed - a night when there'd be no second chance.

'Very well. Go carefully, though. If you get caught...'

Ramage tried to think of a tactful way of putting it, then decided Stafford would understand anyway: 'Listen, Stafford - if you're caught, we'll have to swear we know nothing about it'

'It's all right, sir, I understand, but don't worry. I won't get caught. If I do, I'm all prepared.' He patted the waistband of his trousers. 'Got me file an' a strip of brass, so I won't stay be'ind bars long! I'd like ter go now, sir, an 'ide up near the 'ouse a'fore curfew.'

Ramage nodded. 'Good luck.'

That night Stafford came back to the inn late and crept over to Ramage's bed to whisper, 'Fitted a treat, sir. Didn't 'ave to give even one 'o them a wipe o' me file!'

'Good! Any trouble getting in?'

'None, sir. I 'id in that little shed place, where the gardener keeps 'is tools.'

'Fine, you can tell me more in the morning.'

Admiral Don Josef de Cordoba arrived several days later in the second of a procession of five carriages. He was spotted by Ramage, whose turn it was to make the evening check on the house and who had decided to have a walk, choosing the Murcia road. All the horses were covered in dust, the drivers had handkerchieves over their noses and mouths, and from what Ramage could see of the Admiral sitting back in the carriage, he looked hot and weary.

While walking back to the inn Ramage had to decide whether or not to raid the house that night. The admiral, his staff and family - who appeared to be in the fourth coach - would be exhausted, and no doubt the servants would be too by the time all the new arrivals had washed and supped and had their clothing unpacked and put away in wardrobes and drawers.

Since the admiral had arrived a few days earlier than the Consul expected, had he brought his orders for sailing? Probably not, Ramage finally decided: with Christmas Day only four days off, he might want to be settled in for the festivities.

No, there was no need to pay a visit to the admiral's study tonight: if the sailing date hadn't been decided before he left Madrid three or four days ago it was unlikely the Fleet was intended to go to sea for two or three weeks. A sudden flurry of work would be the clearest indication that the admiral had received orders to sail.