Free Ramage and the Dido by Dudley Pope

into the powder hulks – a precaution against fire causing catastrophic explosions that could lay waste much of Portsmouth.
    As Ramage and Aitken continued their inspection of the fo’c’sle, one of the new midshipmen came hurrying up. ‘Mr Kenton’s compliments, sir, but the new fifth lieutenant has just arrived on board.’
    ‘Tell him to get his gear below and present himself in the cabin in fifteen minutes,’ Ramage said.
    As the boy hurried off, Ramage commented to the first lieutenant: ‘Talk of the Devil…’
    They went down to the messdeck, and Ramage was glad all the ports were open, creating a draught to get rid of the smell of paint. He looked round at the guns, tables and forms. The painters had been busy with the guns and carriages; the tables and forms were well scrubbed. Overhead rammers, sponges and wormers were held up in racks, restricting even more the limited headroom.
    Aitken looked around him and said cheerfully: ‘It’s a far cry from the Calypso, sir.’
    ‘Yes, nearly three times the number of men. And quite a few more guns.’
    ‘I hadn’t realised how big a seventy-four was until I found myself responsible for having it painted,’ Aitken said wryly. ‘And trying to run the ship with a frigate’s complement of men isn’t easy.’
    ‘Well, you’ve the Marines and the West Indiamen to help you now,’ Ramage said.
    ‘I’m afraid they’ve arrived when the worst part of the work has been done.’
    ‘More credit to you.’
    ‘Much of the credit is due to Southwick: he’s been invaluable, especially in rigging the ship. He’s forgotten more about rigging a seventy-four than I’ll ever know.’
    ‘Well, learn as much as you can; it may be a three-decker one day!’
    Aitken sighed. ‘I hope I’ve been posted by then: I don’t think I could stand the strain if I was still a first lieutenant!’
    Ramage took out his watch. ‘I had better get along to the cabin and see this new officer.’
    There were many cabins in a ship, but only the captain’s cabin was always referred to by everyone as ‘the cabin’. Ramage walked under the halfdeck and through the coach into the cabin, thankful that tomorrow his furniture would arrive, and he would have chairs to sit in, and a desk to use.
    The Marine sentry suddenly knocked on the door and called: ‘Lieutenant Hicks to see you, sir.’
    ‘Send him in.’
    Ramage sat down on the breech of the starboard 12-pounder and watched as a thin-faced young man with fair hair slouched into the cabin. He was white-faced and pimply: he was round-shouldered and walked as though he expected to keep on glancing over his shoulder to see who was following him. He was, Ramage decided at once, one of the King’s bad bargains.
    ‘Hicks, sir, fifth lieutenant.’ He handed over a sheet of paper that was his orders. Ramage noticed they were dated six days earlier.
    ‘Welcome on board, Mr Hicks,’ he said coldly. ‘I notice your orders were given some time ago. Where were you when you received them?’
    ‘In London,’ Hicks said airily.
    ‘You did not hurry yourself.’
    ‘But I did, sir. I came straight to Portsmouth.’
    ‘Taking six days? Did you walk?’
    ‘No, I’ve been staying at the Star and Garter.’
    ‘You’ve been what?’ Ramage asked quietly.
    ‘At the Star and Garter, sir. I knew the ship was still fitting-out, so there was no hurry.’
    Ramage knew he would be hard put to keep his temper, but he said, his voice still dangerously quiet: ‘Fitting-out needs the full co-operation of every officer. Why did you think you need not hurry?’
    ‘I was in a card school,’ Hicks said in an offhand way. ‘The stakes were high – all of us have just received a payment of prize money from our agent.’
    ‘So instead of reporting for duty, you stayed on shore gambling?’ Ramage asked incredulously.
    ‘Gambling and losing,’ Hicks said. ‘I’d lost so much I had to keep on playing in the hopes of recouping.’
    ‘And you