Ramage's Signal by Dudley Pope Page A

Station Eleven—that’s at Le Chesne, just to the east—and Station Thirteen, Aspet, just to the west. If one or other has the signal flag up he indicates he is ready to receive.”
    â€œThe signal
flag?
”
    â€œYes, that is a recent idea. There is a flagpole on the platform now, and when a station has a signal it hoists a yellow flag. The next station hoists a yellow flag in answer and the first station begins sending when the second lowers its flag.”
    â€œHow is the signal actually sent?”
    â€œBy opening the shutters to make the patterns in the book.” He pointed to the small volume.
    â€œThe whole signal is sent without acknowledging it word by word?”
    â€œYes. If there is any misunderstanding the receiver hoists the flag and the sender repeats the last word until the receiver lowers the flag.”
    â€œAnd then?”
    â€œWell, the receiver passes on the signal to the next station beyond.”
    â€œBut surely hoisting a yellow flag can be confusing.”
    â€œOh no!” Louis said, anxious to avoid any misunderstanding. “Each station uses a square yellow flag to communicate with the next one to the east of it, and a triangular red flag for the one to the
west.
”
    Ramage nodded, giving the man a reassuring smile. “You pass on a message immediately?”
    â€œNot always,” Louis admitted guiltily. “An unimportant one received while the men are having bread and cheese and a glass of wine might be left for perhaps half an hour, or until they’ve finished a game of cards. Not anything
important,
of course.”
    â€œSo yesterday there were just these signals: that was all that the signalmen did yesterday?”
    â€œYes. It was a quiet day.”
    â€œYou do not report passing ships?” He had deliberately taken his time in leading up to that question in case the man was sharper than he seemed.
    â€œOh, no, we have no orders to do that. Nor,” he said, anticipating Ramage’s next question and anxious to help, “do we keep a watch to seaward, in case you wondered why the guardhouse is on the landward side of the camp.”
    â€œSo when you saw the frigate passing to the westward about noon, you merely noted that she flew French colours and then ignored her?”
    â€œDid she fly French colours? I did not look. Most passing ships fly no colours, you understand; this is an isolated part of the coast.”
    â€œDo many ships anchor in this bay?”
    â€œSome—occasionally a ship-of-war stays for a week or two, sometimes a privateer. Of course, we have convoys in here; especially when one is forming up, with ships joining from many ports near here. You know merchant ships—they’re always late.”
    â€œYes,” Ramage said, and called for the sentry.

CHAPTER SIX
    R AMAGE managed to get two hours’ sleep before washing and shaving and then going on shore at daybreak with Aitken to inspect the semaphore station. The insects were still whining and the metallic buzz of the
cigales
was loud. An occasional startled bird bolted into the maquis, squawking its alarm. Rennick was waiting on the beach, self-conscious and bulging in a French soldier’s uniform made for a slimmer man.
    He saluted as Ramage, holding the leather pouch, jumped down from the boat. “Welcome to the Foix semaphore station, sir. Everything is under control—except the semaphore!”
    â€œI’m sure it is,” Ramage said. “I’ve come over to inspect the tower and see how the semaphore works, and give our signal-men their instructions.”
    â€œYou have the code, sir?” the Marine said eagerly. “It was among those papers we found?”
    â€œIt was, and you must have made a clean sweep!”
    Ramage and Rennick, who led the way, went up the narrow track to the semaphore tower perched on the hill, followed by Orsini, Jackson, Rossi and Stafford, all dressed in French