Free Ramage At Trafalgar by Dudley Pope Page A

the Victory from St Helens as soon as maybe, and you’re to sail as quickly as possible, joining him at St Helens or, if he’s managed to get away from the Isle of Wight, join the fleet off Cadiz and place yourself under my command.
    “He said that he doesn’t mind if you arrive short of a couple of new topsails and half a dozen guns, but he needs every frigate he can get. As he’s giving me command of a sort of inshore squadron, I can bear that out: there’ll be three or four frigates, once I get off Cadiz with the Euryalus , but for what His Lordship has in mind, ten wouldn’t be enough. I tell you, Ramage, His Lordship is breathing fire: he won’t be satisfied with less than the complete destruction of the Combined Fleet.”
    “How many ships have they?”
    “About thirty or more,” Blackwood said. “Depends how many were waiting for them in Cadiz.”
    “And His Lordship?”
    Blackwood made a face and admitted in a soft burr: “Well, Lord Barham was counting them up while I was in his office and he waited for Lord Nelson, and with luck there’ll be twenty. More, of course, if they can be got ready in time. But several ships of the line are in the dockyards, quite apart from frigates like your Calypso . I gather you’ve already had your orders from Lord Barham: it’s just a question of chasing up the dockyard, and taking on powder at Black Stakes?”
    Ramage nodded, thinking of Aldington, St Kew, his father’s new will, and Sarah. Yes, it was different for a married naval officer. “Yes – with a decent wind I’ll be at St Helens before His Lordship boards the Victory !”

Chapter Five
    Farewells were over: Raven had carefully stowed his trunk on the post-chaise at London Bridge, where the Dover ’chaise started, and the Marsh man, before saying goodbye to Ramage and taking the carriage back to Palace Street, handed over a letter. “From Her Ladyship, sir. Said you was to read it on board your ship.”
    Then with shouts and the cracking of whips over the backs of the four horses, the post-chaise began its dash: the one other passenger was a bishop returning to his see of Dover, the usual plump and self-satisfied prelate who at first seemed put out at having to share the carriage with a Navy captain but who became almost servile the moment he heard Raven bidding farewell to “My Lord”. Was His Lordship travelling far? the bishop inquired. No, Ramage said, not far. Perhaps His Lordship lived in Kent? Yes, Ramage said, at Aldington.
    But…but this ’chaise doesn’t go to Aldington: it goes through the Medway towns. For Aldington His Lordship needs the ’chaise that goes through Ashford.
    “I’m not going to Aldington,” Ramage said shortly, cursing that he had to start the day, let alone the journey (which would end at Cadiz!), with this dreary, cringing churchman whose pink complexion and bloated features labelled him a trencherman, as handy with a fork as a Biblical quotation.
    “Oh, I thought you said…”
    “You asked me where I lived. I also have an estate in Cornwall and a house in Town, but I’m not going to any of them,” Ramage said coldly and was quickly ashamed of his exaggerations, but this wretched fellow refused to be snubbed.
    “Ah, you’re joining a ship; I can guess that.”
    Ramage looked out of the window. The carriage was just approaching the Bricklayer’s Arms. “Yes,” he said grudgingly, and suddenly felt a wish to boast that he was joining Lord Nelson, but to this bishop war, no doubt, was only an inconvenience since it did not interrupt meals.
    “It must be an exciting moment.”
    “On the contrary; I’ve lived on board the same ship for the past few years and it will stink of fresh paint and men will be hammering away all day and night.”
    “Dear me, how unpleasant. You should send your deputy down, until everything is ready.”
    Was that how the Lord’s work was done in the see of Dover? Ramage wondered.
    The bishop lifted a large basket on to his lap