The Secretary of State has instructed my Lords that these prisoners must be rescued at any cost because of the dangers ensuing should they be used as hostages, or bargaining pawns.

My Lords, having duly considered their instructions, and having in mind that it was from this area that you rescued the Marchesa di Volterra several years ago, and that you are fluent in the Italian language, hereby request and require you tomake the best of your way in His Majesty's frigate under your command and rescue the aforementioned officers and civilians.

Although it is understood from the Secretary of State's sources that none of the hostages has been offered nor given his parole, Their Lordships are particularly concerned that any person who might in fact have given it should be left behind.

On the successful completion of these orders you will carry these hostages to Gibraltar and acquaint the port admiral of these orders so that he can arrange suitable transport to bring them safely to the United Kingdom.

My Lords impress upon you particularly the need for absolute secrecy to ensure the safety of the hostages and of the source of the intelligence which has resulted in you receiving these orders, and it is considered imperative that in the event of you or any of your ship's company being captured by the enemy, none of you shall reveal any of the foregoing, lest you fall under the terms of the third Article of War.

Hmmm ... to threaten a post-captain with one of the Articles of War showed the importance that the government (in the person of the Secretary of State) attached to the rescue. Article Three - "If any officer, mariner, soldier or other person of the Fleet shall give, hold or entertain Intelligence to or with any Enemy or rebel, without leave from the King's Majesty, or the Lord High Admiral, or the Commissioners for executing the Office of Lord High Admiral . . . shall be punished with death."

Strong stuff, and Pitigliano was many miles inland. Many miles.

"That's what comes of speaking Italian," Ramage said as he handed the sheets of paper to Aitken. "But now I understand why we weren't to know about it until we had passed Gibraltar. Calling in there and accidentally revealing any of that. . ."

Aitken read swiftly. "I wonder how the government discover these things? About Bonaparte holding hostages in secret camps?"

Southwick sniffed. "By the time they finished Captain Ramage's report on rescuing the Count of Rennes from Devil's Island, along with all those other French royalists, I should think the count's friendship with the Prince of Wales led Prinny to ask a lot of questions.

"That probably led to the Foreign Department - or whoever handles our agents abroad - suddenly waking up. Why, just comparing the names of naval officers we know have been captured with those offered by this French agent in London arranging the exchange of prisoners must show a number missing. And Army, too, of course. And civilians," he added quietly, knowing that both the Marchesa and Lady Sarah came under that heading.

Ramage nodded, as much to show Southwick it was all right to discuss the two women as to agree. Yes, it was strange that neither Sarah nor a captain being sent home in the Murex had been mentioned so far by the French, and although Bonaparte was not fussy about involving civilians (against all the rules of war used up to now) it was surprising that the Moniteur had not crowed about capturing the daughter of the Marquis of Rockley, and the Marchesa di Volterra.

All of which left question marks. The Moniteur's silence about Sarah might be simply because the Murex had never been captured: perhaps she had sunk in bad weather or because she had sprung the butt of a plank. And Gianna - if Bonaparte's secret police had seized and murdered her, obviously the Moniteur would stay silent. Plenty of question marks, but no answers . . .

"Do you know where Pitigliano is?" Aitken asked. "Is it far inland? It'd be just our luck if it was surrounded by mountains!"

"No," Ramage said, shaking his head. "Pitigliano is likely to be the only piece of luck we have. It's about thirty miles or so inland, a small hill town. I've been there once, and from what I can remember, it's built on a wedge of land in the middle of a valley. Obviously a river ran through the valley once and Pitigliano (or the hill on which it now stands) was an island in the middle.

"Yes, now I remember . . . the town is actually built so it forms the flat top of the hill, and there's only one gate - which is at the top of a steep track."

He thought of a better way of describing it. "Think of a dunce's cap. The point at the top cut off and that's where the town is built, with a high wall all round it, so that from down in the valley you would see only the walls and the roofs of a few buildings.

"At the bottom there are several caves cut into the tufa, and there many of the peasants keep their donkeys. The town hall is in the piazza with a sort of pulpit built outside, so the mayor can harangue the people.

"Dust, donkeys braying and laden with firewood, their owners hanging on to their tails for a lift to windward up the hill to the town gate, the caves, tracks covered with white dust . . . that's all I can remember."

Aitken crossed his legs and then scratched his head. "I wonder why Bonaparte picked Pitigliano? There must be dozens of other hill towns he could have chosen."

"Hundreds," Ramage said. "The length of Italy, although more in Tuscany than anywhere else because there are so many sugarloaf hills. Bonaparte knows the area well, of course, from the time he marched through with his Army of Italy, but one of his underlings probably chose the town."

"Can't place it," Southwick admitted.

"You remember Santo Stefano and Port' Ercole well enough," Ramage said. "And Talamone. Thirty miles inshore from there."

"That's most convenient: I still have all my charts and the notes I made. Not far from where we - you, rather - rescued the Marchesa," Southwick said. "Might be an omen, sir."

"A bad one," Ramage said gloomily. "All this to rescue some admirals and generals who'll stamp round the deck and get in the way of the sailors."

"Yes, sir, but with Rossi and Mr Orsini speaking Italian . . . they'll be able to help you."

"Rossi yes, I don't know that I dare risk using Orsini. He's the Marchesa's heir, so if anything has happened to her, he's now the ruler of Volterra. If Bonaparte has murdered the Marchesa, then he'll quickly do away with Orsini."

"You'd have trouble leaving Orsini behind, sir," Aitken said. "And if he was captured, what Frenchman could guess he'd just caught the ruler of Volterra? He speaks like an Englishman.

"You sound as though you're both selling Orsini," Ramage said. "I recall hearing you frequently criticizing his mathematics, Mr Southwick . . ."

"Indeed you have, sir, and not for the last time. He takes a good sight; it's just the calculations that do him in. Two and two often make five, although he's not the first midshipman to have that trouble. But I doubt if we have a better seaman on board. Turn in a splice, have the men send down a yard, lay a gun ... An' the men would follow him anywhere."

"In Tuscany, since they don't speak the language, that mightn't be a help," Ramage said sourly. "Anyway, now we know where we're going, are we all right for water to get us there and back to Gibraltar?"

"We've thirty-six tons remaining sir; plenty, even allowing for having the hostages on board," Southwick said.

As the first lieutenant and master stood up to leave the cabin, Ramage said: "Don't discuss this with anyone else for the time being: until I decide how we'll do it. I don't want people pestering me to be allowed to join in. It may end up with Rossi and me going alone . . ."