Ramage

by Pope, Dudley

  Written on board the Trumpeter, dated a day earlier, and signed by someone calling himself ‘Deputy Judge Advocate upon the occasion’ (presumably her purser) the letter said:

  ‘Captain Aloysius Croucher, commanding officer of His Majesty’s ship Trumpeter and senior officer of His Majesty’s ships and vessels present at Bastia, having directed the assembly of a court martial to inquire into the cause and circumstances of the loss of His Majesty’s late frigate Sibella, lately under your command, and try yourself as the sole surviving officer for your conduct so far as it may relate to the loss of the said ship; and it being intended that I shall act as deputy judge advocate at the said court martial, which is to be held on board the Trumpeter, Thursday, the 15th instant, at eight o’clock in the morning; I send you herewith a copy of the order…also copies of the papers referred to in the order, and am to desire you will be pleased to transmit me a list of such persons as you may think proper to call to give evidence in your favour, that they may be summoned to attend accordingly.’

  The letter was signed ‘Horace Barrow’. Ramage glanced at the enclosed documents. One was a copy of Croucher’s order appointing Barrow the Deputy Judge Advocate; the second was the order for the trial; the third a copy of Pisano’s letter to Lord Probus; the fourth a copy of Ramage’s own report, and the last told him that the Sibella’s Boatswain and Carpenter’s Mate would be called as witnesses in support of the charge.

  Ramage sensed that something strange was going on: why was Pisano’s letter, which had nothing to do with the loss of the Sibella, enclosed among the ‘papers referred to’ in Croucher’s order? Ramage guessed Croucher wanted to get the letter written into the minutes of the trial so that the Admiralty would read it, and this was the only way of doing it. The legality was doubtful; but Ramage guessed the letter was bound to come out in the open some time, so it might as well be now.

  He pulled out his watch: he had just eighteen hours to find witnesses and draw up his defence…

  He’d need the Bosun, who was next in seniority and the best man to give evidence about the Sibella’s casualties; the Carpenter’s Mate for her condition at the time he abandoned her; and Jackson, since he was with Ramage for most of the brief period of his command. And the boy who brought the message telling him that he was in command. And the two seamen who helped him up to the quarter-deck: he couldn’t remember their names, but Jackson would.

  Ramage walked over to the master’s mate, who was acting as officer of the watch now that the Lively was at anchor – Probus was not one of the fussy captains who insisted lieutenants stood watches while in harbour – and asked him to pass the word for Jackson, but before the master’s mate had time to open his mouth Ramage heard Lord Probus’ cox’n yelling down the forehatch for him. What did Probus want with Jackson?

  ‘Belay that,’ Ramage said. ‘I’ll wait till the Captain’s seen him.’

  He did not have to wait long: within three or four minutes of Jackson going down to the Captain’s cabin, he came up again, looking for Ramage. He hurried over, saluted and said in an aggrieved voice, ‘I’ve just received orders from the Captain, sir.’

  ‘Well, he’s every right to give you orders.’

  ‘I know, sir; but I’m to take our lads over to the Topaze, sir: we’re all being transferred to her at once, on Captain Croucher’s orders.’

  Ramage glanced over at the little black-hulled Topaze. As a sloop she was small enough to be commanded by a lieutenant or a commander – an officer too junior to sit at his court martial. He saw that the boat from the Trumpeter had just left her, having presumably delivered orders from Croucher to her commanding officer.

  Jackson, who had followed his gaze, suddenly exclaimed:

  ‘Look – she’s getting ready to sail, sir.’

  Certainly there was a scurry of men bending on headsails. Ramage felt his stomach knot into a spasm of fear as he realized what Croucher was doing…

  The Trumpeter’s lieutenant had brought over the order for the trial and the request for Ramage’s list of witnesses – but at the same time had delivered to Probus an order to send all the Sibellas to the Topaze at once. And the Topaze’s commanding officer had obviously just received orders to sail as soon as the Sibellas were on board…

  So by the time Ramage’s list of witnesses arrived in the Trumpeter, the Topaze would have gone and the Deputy Judge Advocate would be able to reply, quite truthfully, that many of the witnesses he requested were not in port.

  Jackson must have sensed Ramage’s sudden tension.

  ‘Anything wrong, sir?’ he asked anxiously.

  ‘Everything,’ Ramage said bitterly. ‘Tomorrow I stand my trial on a charge of cowardice and, apart from the Bosun and Carpenter’s Mate, I won’t have a single witness in my defence.’

  ‘Cowardice?’ Jackson ejaculated. ‘How’s that, sir? Isn’t it just the normal loss-of-ship inquiry?’

  Ramage realized that for discipline’s sake he had no business discussing the matter with Jackson; but since Jackson would be at sea tomorrow, it didn’t matter much.

  ‘Yes, cowardice: at least, I think they’ll bring it in.’

  ‘But it’s not in the actual charge, is it, sir?’

  ‘No – it’s the usual wording.’

  ‘But…but how the devil can they bring in cowardice, sir, if you’ll pardon me for asking?’

  ‘Easy enough,’ Ramage said sourly. ‘I’ve been accused in writing by Count Pisano.’

  ‘Him! Christ, for–’

  ‘Jackson: I’ve been very indiscreet in telling you all this. Now, quickly, give me some names – the boy the Bosun sent down when I was knocked out, and the two men who helped me up on deck.’

  ‘Can’t remember, sir. But some of the lads will: I’ll ask ’em while we’re getting ready to go over to the Topaze, sir.’

  Jackson saluted and went forward. The American had an odd expression on his face: was it a look of triumph? Ramage felt a spasm of fear: in the past few days he’d often made indiscreet comments to Jackson, and – although Croucher wouldn’t know it from Ramage’s own report – the American was the only possible witness who was in a good position, if he was prepared to tell lies, to back up Pisano’s charge of cowardice.

  Trapped, trapped, trapped! For a moment he felt pure panic as he realized that unless Croucher had kept back some of the other Sibellas who had reached Bastia in the Bosun’s party, the only other witness at the trial, apart from the Bosun and Carpenter’s Mate, would also be the most influential – Pisano. Gianna, if she was well enough to attend, would at worst back her cousin or, at best, not contradict him.

  Jackson came back. ‘The two men were Patrick O’Connor and John Higgins, sir; and the boy was Adam Brenton.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Ramage said and ran down to the gunroom shouting to the steward to bring pen, ink and paper.

  Hurriedly he scribbled a letter to the Deputy Judge Advocate requesting the men named in the attached list to be called as witnesses, and signed it. On a second sheet of paper he wrote the names of the Bosun, Carpenter’s Mate, the men Jackson had just mentioned, and rounded the list off with Jackson and Smith. Then, as an afterthought, he added a postscript to his letter saying he would forward a further list as soon as he could see the Sibella’s muster book and refresh his memory.

  He folded the letter and list together – there was no time for a seal – and ran up on deck again.

  Dawlish was by the gangway where Jackson was mustering the six Sibellas, with their hammocks and new seabags, which were pitifully empty since they had been able to buy only a few articles from the purser that morning.

  ‘Jack – can you send this letter across to the Trumpeter at once: it’s urgent?’

  ‘Certainly – there’s a boat from the Topaze alongside: she can deliver it on her way back.’

  ‘No, Jack: can you send one of our own boats with it?’

  Dawlish realized there must be a good reason for Ramage’s insistence.

  ‘B
osun’s Mate! Muster the duty boat’s crew. Here,’ he called to a midshipman, ‘take the duty boat and deliver this to the’ – he paused and glanced at the letter – ‘to the Deputy Judge Advocate in the Trumpeter.’

  As Jackson began calling out the names of the Sibellas from a list he was holding, Dawlish shouted forward, ‘Look alive, there! I don’t see the duty boat’s crew! Bosun’s Mate, hurry those men aft!’

  Ramage realized Probus had come up the companionway and was walking towards them.

  ‘What do you want a boat for?’ he asked Dawlish. ‘The Topaze is sending a boat for these men.’

  ‘I know, sir, it’s already alongside. Mr Ramage wants a letter delivered to the Trumpeter.’

  ‘Well, that can wait, can’t it, Ramage? I’ve some papers to send over later on.’

  ‘It’s my list of witnesses, sir.’

  ‘Your what?’

  ‘List of witnesses.’

  ‘Have you been asleep?’

  ‘Well, sir, I had the charge delivered to me only ten minutes ago.’

  ‘Ten minutes! Didn’t you get it yesterday?’

  ‘No, sir. It came in the last boat from the Trumpeter: the same one that brought the orders for these men.’ Ramage gestured towards the Sibellas.

  ‘All right then, carry on then, Dawlish.’

  Probus walked away, and a few moments later Ramage saw him looking with his telescope first at the Trumpeter and then at the Topaze. After a moment’s glance at the sloop, Probus called: ‘Midshipman! What’s that the sloop’s flying?’

  Ramage saw the Topaze had just hoisted a wheft at the ensign staff – a signal a ship made for her boats to return, and usually a warning that she was about to sail.

  ‘Wheft, sir,’ called the midshipman. ‘Boats to return.’

  ‘Mr Dawlish,’ said Probus, ‘send those men off smartly. Mr Ramage, come over here!’

  As soon as Ramage joined him, Probus asked: ‘Did you know she was sailing?’

  ‘We saw them bending on headsails a few minutes ago.’

  ‘Why didn’t you come and tell me?’

  Ramage did not answer: it hadn’t occurred to him.

  ‘So you’ll lose a lot of your witnesses?’

  Ramage said nothing: Probus could work it out for himself.

  Finally Probus shut his telescope with a vicious snap, turned as if to say something to Ramage, but apparently thought better of it.

  Just at that moment Ramage saw the Sibellas lowering their gear into the boat. Jackson came over towards Probus, as if to make his report. But instead of stopping at a respectful distance and saluting, the American came straight up to him, gave the startled captain a push in the chest, and said in a conversational tone of voice, ‘You’re in the bloody way.’

  Probus was too dumbfounded to react at once, and Jackson then gave Ramage a push. ‘You, too!’

  Probus recovered first and, his face flushed with anger, turned to Ramage: ‘Is this man drunk, or mad?’

  ‘God knows, sir!’

  ‘“Insolence” and probably “Striking a superior officer”, sir,’ said Jackson. ‘I ought to be arrested.’

  ‘You’re damned right!’ Probus said heatedly. ‘Hey, Master-at-Arms! Pass the word for the Master-at-Arms!’

  While the Captain turned to repeat the order to Dawlish, Jackson gave Ramage a deliberate wink.

  Realizing the significance of what Jackson had done, Ramage stared down at the deck, ashamed of his earlier doubts.

  Probus waited impatiently for the Master-at-Arms, banging the telescope against his leg, and finally strode to the quarter-deck rail, bawling to Dawlish.

  Ramage seized the opportunity to hiss at Jackson: ‘You fool – they can hang you, for this!’

  ‘Yes, but if I’m under arrest I can’t sail in the Topaze!’

  ‘But–’

  ‘Didn’t know you were in special trouble, sir: thought it was routine, although I did wonder why that Italian gentleman kept making all those speeches. If I’d–’

  He stopped as he saw Probus turning back from the rail, and Ramage realized that since all the conversation in the gig between himself, Pisano and Gianna had been in Italian, Jackson had no inkling of Pisano’s accusations.

  Within a minute the heavily-built Master-at-Arms, breathless after running up the ladders from below, was standing before Probus, who pointed at Jackson and said: ‘Take that man below.’

  Probus told Dawlish: ‘Send a lieutenant to the Topaze with these men. He’s to explain to her commanding officer that one of them has been detained on board this ship on my orders and a report is being sent to Captain Croucher.’

  To Ramage he snapped: ‘Come down to my cabin.’

  The cabin was cool, thanks to the awnings rigged across the deck overhead. Probus pulled a chair away from the desk and sat down.

  ‘Did he know you are being tried tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes sir – I told him a few minutes ago.’

  ‘And he saw the Topaze getting ready to sail?’

  ‘Yes – he saw them bending on headsails, then you mentioned about the wheft.’

  ‘Does he know the charge?’

  ‘No – but I mentioned that Pisano had accused me of cowardice.’

  ‘Very indiscreet.’

  ‘Yes sir, I apologize. May I ask you a personal question?’

  ‘You can ask, though I don’t guarantee to answer.’

  ‘Did you know she was sailing?’

  ‘You know I can’t answer – but my reaction to seeing the wheft makes your question unnecessary.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’

  ‘You’ve nothing to thank me for: I’ve told you nothing.’

  ‘Aye aye, sir.’

  ‘What sort of man is this dam’ cox’n?’

  ‘American, a fine seaman, plenty of initiative and deserves promotion. I don’t know why he’s never got a discharge with a Protection.’

  ‘Well, that’s his affair,’ Probus said impatiently. ‘We want to know what he’s up to now. Obviously he wanted to be arrested to avoid sailing in the Topaze. That means he wants to stay here. The reason’s obvious enough – he wants to be available as a witness. Why? What can he say that can help you?’

  ‘That’s what puzzles me, sir: he can’t know much about the Pisano business because we always spoke in Italian.’

  ‘So the only new fact he’s learnt in the last few minutes is that Pisano’s accusing you of cowardice, and that it’ll probably come up at the trial.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Doesn’t make sense, does it? He can’t have any vital evidence – nothing that’d be in dispute, anyway. But you’ve been very indiscreet in confiding to a seaman.’

  ‘I realize that, sir.’

  ‘Still, no harm has been done.’

  ‘Except that now Jackson’s under arrest as well as me.’

  ‘Oh? Who said so?’

  ‘Well, sir–’

  ‘I only ordered him to be taken below. But if I’m going to keep him on board so you can have him as a witness, I’ve got to have him under arrest…’

  Ramage waited for Probus to continue.

  ‘Before I put him under arrest I wanted to be sure of the charge. Not striking me – although he did – because that means he’d have to be tried by court martial and could hang. Insolence – that’s it: then I can deal with him. But listen, Ramage: if this conspiracy ever comes out, we’re both ruined. So you’d better get hold of Jackson and warn him to be damn’ careful.’

  ‘Aye aye, sir.’

  ‘Very well. But Captain Croucher isn’t going to be very pleased. Your father had a lot of enemies, my lad.’

  ‘So I’m beginning to find out, sir. But it’s rather hard to meet a man for the first time and find he’s an enemy.’

  ‘Well, you can console yourself it’s a lot worse on shore here in Corsica with the vendetta: Romeo and Juliet – daggers at dead of night – quarrels between families handed down from father to son like an estate
…’

  ‘That’s just what I’ve inherited, it seems to me,’ Ramage said bitterly.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous! It’s quite a different thing.’

  Ramage supposed there must be a difference, but for the moment it was hard to distinguish, except for the darkness. A stiletto between the shoulder blades was a more sophisticated weapon than the one Captain Croucher was using.

  ‘Are you in love with this girl?’

  Ramage gave a start: Probus’ voice sounded almost disinterested, and the question obviously wasn’t meant offensively; rather as though he was turning an idea over in his mind.

  Well, did he love her? Or had his protective instincts been aroused because she was in danger when they first met? Was he just fascinated by her beauty and her accent, which made English so musical – and sensual, too, for that matter? He simply hadn’t thought of it in cold blood: it just happened: one didn’t suddenly say ‘I’m in love’. He’d known several girls in the past and never regarded them with more than affection, except for a married woman who’d – he felt himself go hot with embarrassment at the thought. Yet…now, at this very moment, he realized for the first time (admitted it, rather) that while she was in the ship – even after he’d stalked out of the cabin, ignoring her pleas – merely knowing she was near had been enough. When she’d gone away he became an empty shell, with no reason for existing, no reason – incentive was a better word – for doing anything. Was this love? It certainly wasn’t the brash, almost crude feeling he’d felt for the married woman: that was just a lot of tingling below the sword belt and breathing hard above it. No, he felt utterly lost without her; restless and incomplete. But when she –

  ‘You realize she’s in love with you?’ Probus said.

  ‘With me?’

  ‘My dear fellow,’ Probus exclaimed impatiently, ‘are you blind?’

  ‘No – but…’

  ‘The devil take the “buts”. I don’t know why I’m getting myself mixed up in your affairs; but do I have to draw a chart? You’re in very deep water. Until a few minutes ago I wasn’t too sure how much of Pisano’s story was true: no smoke without fire, you know. But for the Marchesa, I’d have believed half of it, and I’ll tell you why, although’ – he held up his hand to stop Ramage interrupting – ‘women are sometimes wrong in their judgement, and she wasn’t on board the Sibella when you struck.