Ramage's Devil by Dudley Pope Read Free Book Online Page B

that could happen to them would be for Nicholas to be taken off to Valenciennes, where prisoners of war were held, while Sarah had to live with a French family for the rest of the war.
    Sarah had declared that she would stay as near as possible to wherever her husband was incarcerated—they had all agreed that he would not give his parole. The unspoken agreement was that if they were discovered and captured, Nicholas would try to escape to England while Sarah would, if necessary, be left behind. She refused to consider that the French might punish her as a reprisal for her husband’s escape.
    The knock on the door was gentle but at the wrong time: Gilbert had taken away the dirty dishes only half an hour ago, and was not due to bring the first course of the next meal—Ramage took out his watch—for another four hours.
    Gilbert slipped in and gave a dismissive wave with his hand as he shut the door and saw the look of alarm on their faces.
    â€œThe cook and gardener are back, milord. You would not have heard the horse’s hooves because of course they came to the servants’ entrance.”
    Sarah sat down again, realizing that the sudden tension made her feel faint and that Gilbert would be quick to notice if she went white.
    Ramage raised his eyebrows, although not wanting to betray impatience by asking a question, he noticed a curious tension in the Frenchman.
    â€œYou understand the word ‘brig,’ milord?”
    â€œIn English? Yes, it is a type of warship.”
    â€œAh, so they did get it right,” he said. “Now, the news of the Count is bad, but no worse than we expected: he has been sentenced to transportation to Cayenne: he and 53 other
déportés
are being held in the château and will sail in a frigate which is being prepared. The ship sails in about a week, the gardener believes: some of her guns, powder and shot are being unloaded to make room for prisoners.”
    â€œWhat is the name of the frigate?” Ramage asked.
    â€œ
L’Espoir,
so the gardener understands. She was pointed out to him. Boats are taking out provisions, and it was said that carpenters are building special cells. Not to imprison the
déportés
all the time; only when they are punished.”
    Ramage noticed that “when”: Gilbert knew enough of the Republican way to know that no monarchist would reach Cayenne without being punished for something, however minor; an important part of being a staunch Republican was to show that one was a staunch anti-Royalist, and the most effective methods were to betray someone (an easy way of settling monetary debts in the early days of the Revolution was to accuse your creditor of being a secret Royalist: the guillotine quickly closed that account) and to cheer lustily every time the guillotine blade crashed down. A woman had become famous in Paris because she sat quietly knitting beside the guillotine day after day—in three minutes it could despatch a victim from him standing to his head rolling into a basket.
    â€œWe ought to find out exactly when
L’Espoir
intends to sail,” Ramage said.
    â€œYou hope we can make an attempt to rescue the Count?” Gilbert asked hopefully.
    Ramage shook his head. “You, Edouard, the gardener and me to capture a frigate? Four against at least a hundred, and the garrison of the château as well if you tried it in Brest?”
    Gilbert nodded. “I grasp at straws, milord.”
    â€œIt’s all we have to grasp,” Ramage said. “I had in mind only that if we can escape to England before
L’Espoir
sails, perhaps I might be able to warn the Admiralty so that a watch is kept for her. But Gilbert, you mentioned a brig. What brig?”
    â€œAh yes, that was just some gossip the gardener’s wife heard. Not the gardener,” Gilbert said tactfully, as though not wanting to cast any doubt on the intelligence of womanhood in Sarah’s hearing, “he was