‘Exactly,’ Ramage said. ‘Just as the damned frigate caught us napping. There’s no point in waiting off Fort Royal – if the convoy got up that far, some of the merchantmen might be able to bolt in.’
Daybreak was a repeat of the previous day: the lookouts had been sent aloft and Ramage and Aitken were on the quarterdeck, talking about the day’s work, when there was a hail from aloft. Aitken grabbed the speaking trumpet and answered, and the shout came back that the brig was approaching them from the north.
Ramage had a sudden sick feeling he knew why. ‘Send Orsini aloft with a bring-’em-near; she may be flying a signal.’
By chance the
Dido
was heading north towards the brig, and they were approaching each other at a combined speed of nine or ten knots. By the time Orsini had grabbed a telescope and made his way up the ratlines, it was getting lighter, and he was soon hailing the quarterdeck.
‘She’s flying a signal, “Frigate sailed in night”.’
Ramage cursed and told Aitken: ‘Acknowledge. Tell him to resume his patrol.’
Aitken gave the orders and said: ‘Does that mean we missed him a second time, sir?’
Ramage was not sure. The officers of the deck had been given orders to make sure that the men kept a sharp lookout: the
Dido
had moved further north to patrol off Cap Salomon. The brig was patrolling close in off Fort Royal. There seemed to be only one explanation of how the frigate had eluded the
Dido.
‘I don’t think he came this way. If he knew we were down here – and they would have warned him – then I think he made a bolt for it to the north: he had the current to help him and it is a far easier passage.’
And, Ramage thought to himself, apart from my own feelings, Admiral Cameron is not going to be very pleased that this damned frigate has fooled us twice – made us look silly on successive nights. Now he knew he should have moved further north, doubling up on the brig.
Now
he knew that. But being wise twelve hours too late was the same as not being wise at all. He had to face the fact that the French frigate had hoodwinked him not once but twice. The first time could be put down to the Frenchman being unexpected; the second just showed that Ramage was unprepared.
Southwick arrived on the quarterdeck, and Aitken told him about the brig’s signal. Southwick gave a rueful laugh, and said to Ramage: ‘I can imagine you getting in and out of a port that the French were blockading. But to have them doing it to us…’
Ramage laughed as well, though there was little humour in it. ‘Yes, that Frenchman caught us napping twice running. We’ve got to make sure that the
Achille
does not make it three times. We can’t rely on the brig.’
‘No, it’s hard to know if young Bennett isn’t up to the job or just plain unlucky: being in the wrong place at the wrong time.’
‘He said he was going to get close in with Fort Royal,’ Ramage said. ‘Either he was not close enough or he chose the wrong place.’
‘He couldn’t have stopped the frigate actually sailing,’ Southwick said placatingly. ‘He could only have raised the alarm.’
‘Yes, I was just mentioning to Aitken that she may have bolted out to the north.’
‘Aye, well, the
Achille
might go the same way.’
‘That brings up the next problem: do we try to intercept her on her way out to meet the convoy, or when she escorts it back?’
‘Does it make any difference?’ asked Southwick.
‘Yes. We have two advantages over him when he’s escorting it back. He’s tied to the convoy’s course and speed, and he has to come in round Cabrit Island.’
‘Yes, but he’ll be reinforced by a frigate or two – maybe another ship of the line: who knows, the French might be determined to get this convoy through, and have given it a big escort.’
‘In that case,’ Ramage said wryly, ‘we are going to be bustling about, but whatever the escort, they’ll be coming round Cabrit Island.’
‘You don’t think they’d risk coming north-about, guessing we’d be waiting off Cabrit?’
‘No, they daren’t risk the whole convoy losing the wind and being carried off to the north by the current. It was different for that frigate – the northgoing current would help him. But I can’t see those merchant ships making a couple of knots to windward in light airs.’
‘No, sir,’ Southwick agreed. ‘They’d be colliding with each other, especially if they were trying to get in at night.’
‘I can’t see them attempting it at night,’ Aitken said. ‘The French merchantmen must be as mulish as the British, and we’d never risk it.’
‘No,’ said Ramage, ‘it will be south-about. By the way,’ he told Aitken, ‘you can fetch Orsini down now.’
If the frigate had brought news of the convoy, Ramage told himself, then the
Achille
must be making ready for sea. And that was a good point that Southwick had made – that the convoy might have another ship of the line with it. To let the
Achille
join the convoy meant making sure of having to tackle two ships of the line at once. If he could deal with the
Achille
before she joined the convoy…
What about going north to look at the
Achille
this afternoon, to see if she had swayed up her yards? He could rely on the brig to warn him, but he admitted he would feel happier if he had a look himself. Would the
Dido
’s
sudden appearance off Fort Royal alarm the
Achille,
or warn her what she might expect if she ventured out? Ramage doubted it: the French would know, from lookouts on the coast, that the
Dido
was round the corner, so it should not make any difference.
Well, what was he going to do, go for the
Achille
on the way out or on the way back? He needed to make up his mind. The prospect of another ship of the line with the convoy finally decided him.
By late afternoon the
Dido
was heading into Fort Royal with a brisk easterly wind knocking up white caps as she beat in towards Fort St Louis and the Carénage.
Southwick, Aitken and Ramage were all watching the
Achille
with their telescopes. Finally Southwick said: ‘She’s as ready for sea as she’ll ever be. There’s no doubt that frigate brought her the news she’s been waiting for.’
‘I wonder how far out the convoy is?’ Aitken said, speculatively. ‘Probably fairly close.’
‘Close enough for the frigate to leave it and return, giving enough time for the
Achille
to get out to it.’
Southwick said: ‘Why doesn’t she sail now? She knows she’s got to fight us, and a night action is always risky.’
‘These nights are dark: no moon yet. She might think she can dodge us – and she might be lucky!’ Ramage said. ‘If we sit hove to off Pointe des Nègres she’s going to have trouble getting past us – unless it’s squally and she manages to dodge us in a patch of poor visibility.’
Ramage looked round at the sky: the usual Trade wind clouds were coming off the island and the weather looked settled enough. ‘Not much chance of squalls tonight,’ he said. ‘It looks as though the
Achille
is going to have to come out in clear visibility.’
‘We need some luck after missing that damned frigate,’ Southwick growled.
Ramage finally made up his mind. ‘We’ll wait off Pointe des Nègres, and the
Scourge
can watch to the south. Mr Aitken, I’ll trouble you to hoist the brig’s pendant and the signal for her captain.’
After the brig had sailed in and hove to a hundred yards to windward, hoisting out a boat, Lieutenant Bennett came on board, nervous as though expecting a broadside from Ramage for missing the frigate when she sailed during the night. But Ramage did not mention the episode. Instead he said: ‘I am fairly sure the
Achille
will sail tonight. I am equally sure that she will try to get out to the northwards. I shall be waiting off Pointe des Nègres and I want you to watch to the south.
‘I’ll be hove to between the Banc de Ia Vierge and the Pointe, somewhere on the sixteen-fathom line. You can be waiting in your normal position. If you sight her under way, fire two white rockets if she is heading north, and three if south. And you shadow her as close as you can without her getting in a broadside. Set off a false fire at five-minute intervals, so we know where you are, and burn two if there’s a radical change of course.’
‘What if she attacks me, sir?’ Bennett asked.
‘You either dodge her or you get sunk,’ Ramage said drily. ‘But try to shadow her from astern. She might loose off her sternchaser guns, but you won’t have much to worry about after the first round: the muzzle flash will blind the French gunners.’
‘Now don’t forget,’ Ramage said. ‘Two white rockets mean he’s going northwards and three south. False fires at five-minute intervals and two together for a radical change of course. Do you want me to give you that in writing?’
‘No, I can remember it, sir,’ Bennett said, showing a sudden surge of confidence, as though listening to Ramage had made him more sure of himself.
Bennett returned to the brig, which went back to her patrol line, where she would wait until twilight before returning close in to the Passe du Carénage.
Southwick sniffed. ‘I wish I could make up my mind about that lad,’ he said. ‘One minute he seems confident enough and the next he seems too nervous.’
‘I think he expected trouble over that frigate,’ Ramage said. ‘From his point of view it was entirely his fault.’
‘Aye, and if you weren’t the man you are, your report to the admiral would say so.’
Ramage shrugged his shoulders and laughed. ‘Well, it wasn’t so long ago I was commanding a brig. Perhaps I feel sorry for him.’
Southwick shook his head. ‘I hope you’re not going soft, sir!’
Twilight turned to darkness with the suddenness for which the Tropics are notorious, and the
Dido
hove to a mile from Pointe des Nègres, her bow heading into the cliffs which lined the shore.
The Pointe itself stuck out to the south-west like a stubby tail, cliffs right to the narrow end. At one mile Ramage could, with the nightglass, just make out the blacker blur of the land, but he was not sure he would be able to distinguish a ship. The
Achille,
coming out of the Baie du Carénage, would have to sail south for more than half a mile before turning north-west so that she avoided the shallow Banc du Fort St Louis. But what would she do after that if she intended making a bolt to the north – follow the land round to Pointe des Nègres, or head out to the west to make an offing before turning north?
If she went out to the west and the
Scourge
was not following her and burning false fires, the
Dido
would miss her: Ramage was betting that she would keep close to the land. The
Achille
had plenty of choices. She could come out to the south-west before turning north-west: an arc of some three miles which the
Dido
could not hope to cover. Did young Bennett realise how much depended on him? It was probably a good thing if he did not: he might get so nervous that his judgement was affected.
‘How many lookouts do we have?’ Ramage asked Aitken.
‘Eight, sir: two extra ones. One on the starboard bow, one aft on the starboard side.’
‘We’ll beat to quarters now. If they sailed as soon as it was dark they could be along here within twenty minutes or so, and it takes us fifteen minutes to get to general quarters.’
Aitken gave the order and in a couple of minutes the two Marine drummers were striking up. Once again, even though it was dark, Ramage was reminded of an anthill being stirred up as the men hurried to their positions. They would be loading the 32-pounders, which had a range of 2,080 yards, and the 24-pounders, which could fire a shot 1,800 yards, while the 12-pounders could manage 1,500 yards. Nor were the shot insignificant – the 32-pounders were 6.1 inches in diameter, the 24-pounders 5.6 inches, and the 12-pounders were a comparatively modest 4.4 inches.
So much for the figures, Ramage thought. The problem in a night action was the muzzle flash: it blinded the gunners and half-blinded and certainly confused the officers on the quarterdeck. In fact night actions were very rare: the problem of judging distances and aiming the guns properly made most captains, British and French, avoid them if they could. In fact the
Achille
was almost certainly sailing at night because her captain thought it was the best way of avoiding an action with the
Dido
:
he was relying on the
Dido
’s
reluctance to fight as much as the chance of dodging her in the dark.
Ramage heard the rumble of the carronades being run out on their slides and could imagine Orsini’s excitement: his first night action in a 74-gun ship. There was, Ramage had to admit, something awe-inspiring about taking such a big ship into action. There was 200 feet of ship from figurehead to taffrail, 24,000 square feet of canvas aloft, and the ship weighed about 2,800 tons…yes, the figures were impressive enough, and it was important to realise that they applied to the
Achille
as well. And when they came to fight each other, both the giants could be blinded by the gun flashes…
When Aitken reported the starboard side guns loaded with roundshot and run out, Ramage told him to do the same thing with the larboard guns. ‘But tell the guns’ crews to stand by the starboard guns when they’ve finished; I have a feeling that we shall be engaging to starboard.’
In the darkness the deck forward of the mainmast looked curiously empty: all the boats had been hoisted out and were towing astern, so that random shot did not shatter them on the booms and send a shower of lethal splinters across the deck.
Guns loaded and run out: the ship ready for battle. Now was the time to strip the ship down to fighting canvas. The
Achille
would probably come into sight with every stitch of canvas set as she hurried to the north, but she would be unhandy, and Ramage was sure he was not going to get caught in the same trap.