Ramage's Trial Read Online Free Page B

almost exploded, slapping the arm of his chair for emphasis. “Surely you put your duty to your King before your social obligations to a friend – a Frenchman, I presume!”
    â€œâ€“a friend of the Prince of Wales,” Ramage finished his sentence.
    â€œYou don’t mean that you were staying with…”
    â€œThe Count of Rennes is an old friend of my family, and of course apart from being a leader of the French Royalists who fled to England, he is a close friend of the Prince.”
    Tewtin hauled a large handkerchief from his pocket as though, Ramage thought, he was letting fall the Queen ’s foretopsail. The admiral mopped his brow, rubbed the sides of his nose vigorously to give himself time to think, then found he had wiped the whole of his face and brow without thinking of anything: the crash of falling bricks was leaving him stunned. “Do go on,” he urged Ramage.
    â€œWell, sir, at the same time that we found the Count had been put on board a French frigate with many other Royalist prisoners to be transported to Devil’s Island, my wife and I and some French fishermen (Royalists, of course) managed to recapture the Murex brig that had mutinied after the villains had been taken off by the French, and sailed in time to meet the Channel Fleet, which was just arriving off Brest to resume the blockade.”
    Tewtin had many questions to ask but managed to restrict himself to nodding approvingly. A nod was safe, he realized.
    â€œBy chance my own frigate, the Calypso , was in the Fleet and I was put in command again.” Ramage saw no reason to elaborate on how that came about. “Anyway, as soon as Admiral Clinton heard that a French frigate was already on its way to Devil’s Island with the Count and many other Royalists, I was sent in pursuit, my wife returning to England in the Murex brig.”
    Tewtin, thinking that was the end of Ramage’s story, nodded and said: “But you picked up a couple of prizes, anyway. I’m sure the Count will survive, although he’s in a very horrible place at this moment.”
    â€œOh, he’ll survive, sir,” Ramage said reassuringly, a tight smile on his face. “Just a touch of fever.”
    â€œWhat is?” asked a puzzled Tewtin. “Fever?”
    â€œThe Count, sir. He is on board the Calypso but developed a bout of fever a couple of days ago.”
    Tewtin jumped to his feet. “Good God, man! Bring him over to the flagship! He must be my guest. Here–” he waved at Lieutenant Newick, “have this cabin prepared for him. Warn Captain Woods that I shall be moving into his quarters–”
    â€œSir,” Ramage said quietly, “I don’t think the Count will move from the Calypso . Apart from anything else, his main concern is to get to England as quickly as possible.”
    â€œI don’t want any argument from you about this,” Tewtin said firmly. “He will be my guest, and that’s that. Have him sent over in a boat – no, I’ll send over my barge. That will be more comfortable for a sick man.”
    â€œSir, please leave the Count where he is: he anticipated your kindness,” Ramage said tactfully, “and was most emphatic that he should stay in the Calypso .” Suddenly Ramage thought of another excuse. “He prefers to talk French: in fact, he is so weakened by the fever that he has great difficulty in speaking English. Do you have a fluent French speaker…?”
    â€œWell, as long as you have faith in your surgeon,” Tewtin said grudgingly. “But I would be most distressed if the Prince of Wales…most distressed,” he repeated, without elaborating.
    Ramage thought of his men on board the prizes and then decided not to mention them. Southwick would be retrieving the men as soon as the prizes had been cleared by the quarantine authorities. It would be better to leave Rear-Admiral Tewtin to sleep on the