"Governor Ramage RN" - читать интересную книгу автора (Pope Dudley)

Chapter Two

Ramage stood on the gangway abreast the mainmast. After an hour in the dim cabin he was almost blinded by the bright sun as he watched the masters waiting impatiently for their boats. Every few moments one would spot his and dodge out from under the tautly stretched awning to bellow an order to hurry up.

Whether smooth of manner or rough, the masters had something in common: each was a good seaman. He might be truculent when ordered about by an escort captain; he might furl or reef at night to avoid risking his owner's money on new sails; but he was every inch a seaman, whether commanding a large ship with a crew of thirty or a small schooner.

In peacetime the smaller ships would have been hard pressed to find enough cargo to trade from one port in the English Channel to another, and would sail without insurance because no underwriter would risk his money without prohibitive premiums. War had given these small, old vessels a new lease of life. The shortage of ships had driven up the freight rates so the owners could afford the insurance, and the peacetime race to be first at the market-place with a cargo to get the highest prices, had been stopped by the convoy system. All the ships now arrived at the same time and the convoy's speed was that of its slowest vessel.

"Didn't you command the Triton brig?"

Ramage turned to find Yorke standing beside him.

"I still do."

"Where is she?"

Ramage pointed to where she was lying at anchor on the far side of the shallow bay.

"I've been hearing about you catching privateers off St Lucia and reading about you and Commodore Nelson at the battle off Cape St Vincent. I'd like to offer my congratulations."

"Thank you, Mr - should I adopt your style and say, 'Mr Yorkshire'?"

Yorke laughed. "I was rather pleased with that! Anyway," he said, putting out his hand, "Sidney Yorke, 'master under God' and owner of the Topaz."

"Owner?" Ramage exclaimed, as he shook hands, "Why, you're..." He hastily rephrased his remark, "You have a fine ship."

"And 'You're young to own and command her'?"

"Well, I didn't actually say it!"

"I inherited her. From what I hear, m'lud," Yorke said with a mock bow, "there are one or two senior officers not far from here who rated you young to catch privateers who'd escaped a couple of senior frigate captains - and would have rated you too young to trump the Spanish Fleet at St Vincent."

Ramage grinned as he returned the bow, and Yorke suddenly waved. "There's my boat."

Although neither man was conscious of it, each shared a common inheritance, the sea. For Yorke it had taken the form of a ship; for Ramage it was a family tradition of service in the Royal Navy. The Royal Kalendar, in the section headed "House of Peers. Earls", devoted three heavily abbreviated lines to Ramage's father:

"Hen.VIII. 1540. Oct. 9. John Uglow Ramage, E. of Blazey, V. Ramage, an admiral of the White. St Kew Hall, St Kew, Cornwall."

A glance at the preceding names, for the earldoms were listed in date order, showed the earldom was the third oldest in the country, having been created by Henry VIII more than two hundred and fifty years earlier, while the viscountcy - which the eldest son was allowed to use - was even older. The index several pages earlier gave the motto, family name and heir:

"Blazey, E.I540. Nec dextrorsum nec sinistrorsum. Neither to the right nor the left. Ramage, V. Ramage."

Although the facts were brief enough, a keen student of history could hazard a reasonably accurate guess at what else might have been said. The Ramages were a family that supported Henry VIII at the dissolution of the monasteries and, in return, received the title and grants of former church lands. They were staunch Royalists a century later and, along with many other Cornish landowners, had much of their property confiscated by Cromwell's Roundheads after bitter fighting. They lived to see the new King give it away to his favourites after the Restoration.

But no student or reference book could even hint at why the present heir to the earldom, Lieutenant Nicholas Ramage, did not use his title; nor how it was that he spoke fluent Italian (with an uncanny ability to mimic the colourful Neapolitan accent, Italy's equivalent of Cockney), Spanish and French. His skill in Italian came from a childhood spent in Tuscany, since his parents had close links with Italy. His knowledge of French and Spanish, he was always quick to admit, was entirely due to his mother, a very determined woman who chose strict tutors.

From the day he first went to sea Ramage, on his father's advice, had not used his title: the old Admiral knew only too well the problems that a young midshipman might face if some well-meaning hostess gave him precedence over his captain at the dinner table because of his title.

As Yorke's boat came alongside the Lion, the young shipowner said with sudden seriousness, "Well, good luck; might be wiser to keep a sharp lookout over your shoulder than over the bulwark. I wish you were coming to Jamaica with us."

"I am."

Yorke spun round. "Oh! So I guessed right... Well, you're young to have fallen foul of an admiral who forgets his name contains four more letters after the first three!"

"It's a long story," Ramage said wryly.

"Let's hope it has a happy ending. Be pleased - as my Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty say - to keep an eye on the Topaz then! Incidentally, she's a legacy from my grandfather; made me serve an apprenticeship, then left me his fleet. Six ships, all named after gem-stones. Dine with me?"

"Why - yes, I'd like to."

"One o'clock? You'll find I'm carrying an interesting cargo. I'd like to hear a bit of that 'long story' if you -"

"Mr Ramage, sir -"

A plump, red-faced midshipman was standing waiting.

"Captain Croucher's compliments, sir. Would you report to him in the cabin."

Although a dozen thoughts were going through his mind as he nodded, Ramage remembered to warn Yorke that he might be a few minutes late. Walking aft, he saw the frigate captains leaving the cabin, followed by Jenks. The moment Jenks spotted Ramage he deliberately slowed down to let the captains get well ahead of him. The two of them had served together as midshipmen and later as lieutenants in the same ship and as he passed he whispered, "Watch your luff - I'm sure they're brewing up something..."

The Marine sentry saluted as Ramage knocked on the door and was told to enter. Croucher sat at the same table by the stern lights and facing the door, but Ramage sensed rather than saw that someone was sitting at the forward end of the cabin.

"Ah, Ramage, here are your orders."

Ramage took the rectangular packet with a red seal on one side.

"And the new convoy list. Forty-nine ships, seven columns of seven ships. You have the latest edition of the Signal Book, of course?"

"Yes, sir."

"There's a copy of the Admiral's additional signals in with your orders. Sign this."

As Ramage reached for the quill and inkwell he saw that the slip of paper was a straightforward receipt for the orders and convoy list.

"And Ramage," Croucher said, his voice hardening and his hands clenching like claws, "at your trial last year you escaped punishment on a technicality ..."

Ramage stiffened and looked directly at him, and Croucher's cold, grey eyes looked down at the table.

"Punishment for what, sir?"

"You know very well what I mean."

"Punishment presupposes guilt, sir. Of what was I found guilty?"

He spoke quietly, but every nerve in his body was alert: he felt lightly balanced on the balls of his feet, poised and on guard, ready to fence with a master swordsman.

From behind he heard Goddard's oily voice. "At the moment you are guilty of anything I choose to say."

Ramage realized he was right: the cabin was a trap. With only Croucher and Goddard present - a captain high on the post list and a senior rear-admiral - either could accuse him of anything, with the other as an unimpeachable witness. Mutinous behaviour, treasonable talk, even attempted murder - what reasonable men would believe Ramage's word against theirs?

Slowly, despite the heat of the cabin, he felt his whole body chill and every hair rise up spikily, like an angry cat's fur, his skin tightening in nature's response to danger. The ticking of a clock grew louder and more precise, the slapping of wavelets under the counter more distinct; overhead seamen's feet were padding on the deck. The colours of Croucher's uniform - and everything else in the cabin - were now brighter and sharper; the cut glass reflected tiny rainbows on the bulkheads. He knew that in a few moments he'd be gripped by a rage which slowed down time, speeded his reactions, doubled his strength and left him without humility or humanity. Such rage gripped him rarely - only twice before in his life - and it frightened him.

The Ramage family had never harmed Goddard. If the Ramages vanished off the face of the earth, Goddard would not gain a penny in cash or an inch of promotion; nothing except the congratulations of sycophants like Croucher who followed him for the rewards they got from his patronage. It was a senseless vendetta he waged.

Suddenly Ramage remembered his reactions at the trumped-up trial Goddard had staged in the Mediterranean. At first he'd been shocked and overwhelmed, then he'd become too disgusted by their malicious cruelty and veniality to bother to fight back. Then he'd realized that his inaction was playing their game: by simply answering questions and not attacking he was letting them beat him.

Ramage had been in Barbados by chance when the convoy arrived but his presence in the Lion's cabin was a new opportunity for Goddard to attack him. He was collecting the evidence for another carefully rigged trial when the convoy reached Jamaica.

Ramage didn't have to watch his words, since they could swear he had said or done anything they liked. So be it! In battle, doing the unexpected can be as effective as doubling the size of your fleet. He turned suddenly to face Goddard.

"With respect, sir, what do you want to charge me with?"

He spoke quietly and slowly, but each word was hard and unambiguous. He added: "Wouldn't you prefer to hurry it up and have me charged and tried before the convoy sails?"

Goddard's jaw dropped. Now for the second broadside, Ramage thought, and this will show whether that gross clown in admiral's uniform really is a coward.

"Wounding a superior officer, perhaps? That'd bring in mutiny, and Captain Croucher could swear to 'treasonable utterances' as well. But for a wounding charge I'd have to supply some tangible evidence..."

He was careful not to move his hand towards his sword.

Goddard stood up suddenly and warily, his eyes on Ramage. The young lieutenant's face was taut; the two scars over the right eyebrow were pale against the tanned skin and the deep-set brown eyes watched unblinking. Goddard realized he was fearless but tense, like an animal waiting to pounce, yet in complete control of himself.

Ramage's eyes challenged but his hand hadn't gone to his sword; there was nothing that could condemn him under the Articles of War. Goddard knew that he had gone too far: the young beggar was just calm and contemptuous, not cringing, and he could almost hear the metallic hiss of the sword leaving the scabbard. This wasn't his way of carrying on vendettas. He had been scores of miles away when the trial he had ordered was actually held in the Mediterranean. He liked things to be neat and tidy. Documents to be read, orderly numbered exhibits for the prosecution, and the evidence carefully arranged so that Lieutenant Lord Ramage would be found guilty on a capital charge.

Let's frighten him, Croucher had said; if he's frightened he's much more likely to make mistakes. All Croucher's advice had achieved was to frighten Goddard himself and get Ramage into a fighting mood. Goddard felt chilled, though his clothes were soaked with perspiration.

What now? Goddard needed time, and he also needed to reassure this young puppy; lull his fears and hopefully leave him complacent, so that when the blow did strike ...

But Croucher was not a coward and he had already sensed his Admiral's fear: like Ramage he had seen Goddard's eyes glancing from side to side and noticed the sudden leap from the chair at Ramage's reference to "tangible evidence".

Croucher said, "No doubt you'll soon provide any evidence required, Ramage."

His voice carried little conviction but he had to support his Admiral. If Goddard continued to rise up the flag list, Croucher's fortunes rose also. If Goddard fell from favour, Croucher was doomed to spend the rest of his life unemployed, on half-pay. Captain Aloysius Croucher, like any other officer sharing Goddard's favours, was a party to the vendetta against the Ramage family whether he liked it or not.

Ramage waited for Goddard to regain his voice, if not his poise.

"It's nine hundred miles to Jamaica, Ramage; I can only hope you carry out your duties satisfactorily for the whole of the voyage." The voice became more confident, as if he had remembered something else. "At Jamaica you will still be under my orders of course - Sir Pilcher, you know ..."

Ramage knew only too well. The Commander-in-Chief, Vice-Admiral Sir Pilcher Skinner, was a weak, fussy and cautious man who had spent a long career successfully dodging responsibility. He played the game of favourites so flagrantly that it had become a scandal even in an age when patronage was no crime. Many a good captain tried to avoid serving under him.

Goddard had been Sir Pilcher's flag captain several years ago, and Sir Pilcher had pushed him, so that when Goddard reached flag rank, Sir Pilcher had another young rear-admiral indebted to him - a young rear-admiral who, thanks to a wise marriage, had influence at Court. Goddard was said to be one of the few men who could get any sense out of the old King during his occasional bouts of insanity.

Now Goddard was on his way to join Sir Pilcher as his second-in-command. I'm caught right in the middle, Ramage thought ruefully. Well, there's one consolation - Sir Pilcher can only bring Goddard authority; he hasn't any brains or boldness to contribute.

Ramage relaxed as he stood between the two men. The cabin was hot again and the sun bright in the stern lights. There was nothing to fear for the moment - thanks to his unexpected counter-attack whatever Goddard and Croucher had planned for today was cancelled. But another plan would follow; something calculated to bring indignity and shame on the real target of the vendetta, John Uglow Ramage, 10th Earl of Blazey, Admiral of the White, his father and the scapegoat so many years ago for a government's inefficiency and stupidity, and eventually the victim of its viciousness.

A sharp knock at the door made the three men jump, and at Croucher's call the Marine sentry said: "Mr Yorke to see you, sir."

Ramage turned in time to catch a slight questioning lift of the Admiral's eyebrows and an anxious pursing of the Captain's thin lips. Both were wary of Yorke - and perhaps a little afraid? Surely that was too absurd...

"Tell him to come in," Croucher called.

Yorke walked in and nodded affably to Croucher before he saw Goddard.

"Ah, Admiral! Forgive me for interrupting you."

"Not a bit, Mr Yorke, not a bit; you're always a welcome visitor."

Only one thing brought that ingratiating note into Goddard's voice: talking to someone with power and influence.

"I was looking for Mr Ramage. He was kind enough to accept my invitation to dine on board the Topaz, and as he hadn't joined me at the gangway I thought he might have mistaken the day."

"Mr Ramage is a fortunate young man," Goddard said heartily. "Ramage - I hope you haven't let such an invitation slip your memory?"

"No, sir, I was going over as soon as you had finished - er, giving me my instructions."

"Very well - now, let's see: you've signed the receipt for your orders? Ah yes, Mr Croucher has it. Well, I think that's all. Keep a sharp lookout on your side of the convoy, whip in the stragglers - the usual sort of thing, and you know it all anyway!"

Ramage had to admit that Goddard carried it off very well, even down to voicing a hope that Yorke and his passengers would find time to dine on board the flagship when they reached Kingston - a hope Yorke acknowledged with a perfunctory nod.