Ramage by Dudley Pope

he’d soon gain their confidence.
    Nino gave a nod which implied that although he agreed there might be a lady who knew about alabaster, it did not mean he knew her.
    ‘Nino, I will be frank: there is no reason why you should trust me, so I won’t ask you to take me to these people…’
    ‘Where is the Commandante’ s ship?’
    ‘Out there,’ said Ramage, pointing seaward, ‘beyond the reach of prying French eyes.’
    ‘You landed by boat?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘The Commandante’ s hair is matted with dried blood, or something similar.’
    ‘It is dried blood: we had a battle and I was wounded by the French.’
    ‘Would you like my wife to make a poultice for it, Commandante ?’
    ‘No,’ said Ramage rather too hastily for politeness. ‘No, thank you: there is no need: it heals itself well. Now,’ he said, indicating he assumed they were satisfied, ‘as I said, I do not ask you to take me to these people; only that you take a message.’
    ‘If it was possible that we could help the Commandante by taking a message to someone he wished to receive a message,’ Nino said guardedly, speaking formally and still not admitting he knew anything, ‘it would have need to be in Italian.’
    ‘Of course,’ Ramage replied, adopting Nino’s roundabout manner. ‘The message I have in mind would be to a lady who knew about alabaster, telling her the English have arrived to take her and her friends on a voyage. And to reassure this lady – so that she can identify the English officer – tell her that when he was a boy she made him recite Dante in Italian, and she was angry with him because of his bad accent. And she said to this boy, that of all Dante wrote, to remember specially one line: “ L’amor che muove il sole e l’altre stelle ” – “The love that moves the sun and the other stars”.’
    Nino repeated the phrase. ‘Did this man Dante write that?’
    Ramage nodded.
    ‘It is beautiful,’ said the brother, speaking for the first time. ‘But why was the lady angry because of your accent, Commandante ? You pronounce it as if you were a real Tuscan.’
    ‘Now I do, but then I was a small boy; still learning the language in fact.’
    ‘This message, Commandante . Supposing it could be delivered: where would you like to wait?’
    ‘Where you wish. My sword – that is outside, and you may take it, and that of my attendant, and hide them where you wish.’
    Nino stood up as if he had decided what he must do.
    ‘ Commandante , you and your attendant are tired. Perhaps you would care to sleep here–’ he waved towards the mattresses. ‘In the meantime, I have some work to do. My brother has no work, so he will stay here.’
    Ramage and Jackson stretched out on one mattress. The old woman whimpered – her eyes were watery, and she had long since ceased to do anything with her life but eat and sleep. The wife whispered something reassuring.
    The brother put the candle in a corner behind a box, and draped a jacket round it to hide most of the light. Ramage suddenly realized how tired he was, and the cut in his head was throbbing. Just before he slid into a deep sleep he felt a spasm of fear: he had trusted the peasants, but would the next bang on the door herald the arrival of real French troops?

Chapter Seven
     
    ‘Commandante! Commandante! Someone was shaking him. In an instant – thanks to many years’ training and several scares in the past couple of days – he was wide awake and felt Jackson spring up beside him. It took a moment to realize where he was, but the inside of the tiny hut quickly came into focus. Strange shadows chased each other across the walls as the candle Nino held in his hand wobbled slightly.
    ‘Oh – Nino, all goes well?’
    ‘No, Commandante – at least, not entirely so.’
    ‘Why is that?’
    ‘We have to move from here.’
    ‘Why – are the French coming?’
    ‘No, Commandante ; but it will be more convenient for us to talk elsewhere.’
    ‘Where do we