Ramage 10 - The Ramage Touch by Dudley Pope

Author:Dudley Pope
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2011-04-26T23:00:00+00:00

Everybody is dead," he added vaguely. "I feed them both. Very hungry we are, too; it has been a long walk."

The innkeeper understood his customer better than Ramage, and in translating Ramage's explanation into French made it such a heartrending story that the colonel first began to sit upright, instead of lolling back in the chair, then topped his glass from a carafe, and then held up a hand to silence the innkeeper.

"A meal!" he said in a voice which would have carried well down the aisle of a great cathedral."For the three of them. Here, at my table - I have never before spoken to Italiantziganes. But until the meal is ready, theflûtiste shall give us his music - music to pay for their supper, eh?"

Several officers applauded their colonel as the innkeeper gave Ramage a rapid translation before disappearing in the direction of the kitchen. Ramage gave a brief whistle to Paolo, indicating Martin as well, and the midshipman gave the line a tug and the two of them came over to the colonel's table. Ramage went through the ritual of introducing them and, although the Frenchman obviously did not understand a word of Italian, he smiled benevolently at Paolo's carefully ill-contrived salute and at Martin's vacant grin as he placed his flute on his shoulder as though it was a musket.

The other officers clapped and one of them cleared a nearby table, with a sweep of his arm that sent the bottles and glasses crashing to the ground,then indicated that Martin should stand up on the table and play. The young lieutenant gave an idiotic grin and climbed up, immediately beginning a popular French tune that Paolo had taught him.

In the meantime a waiter set down more glasses and a bottle in front of the colonel, who indicated that he should fill all three. The colonel then snapped his fingers at Ramage and pointed to two of the glasses. Ramage picked up one withcarefully assumed nervousness and sipped, and then signalled to Paolo, and clumsily raised his glass to the colonel.

He wanted to avoid having to sit alone with the colonel. If he did there would be no conversation, because the colonel assumed he spoke no French. He dared not admit otherwise because a gipsy in Orbetello speaking French would arouse suspicions. He wanted a couple of other officers to come to the table; then they would gossip with the colonel and, with luck, reveal scraps of information.

"The colonel enjoys the music," a voice said in French-accented Italian, and Ramage looked round to find a young officer standing there, smiling - at the colonel, rather than Ramage, and explaining to the colonel in French what he had just said. He was obviously the colonel's aide, and he listened as the colonel explained that thetziganes had learned French tunes and come in from the hills to play a farewell.

"Farewell, sir?" the young captain asked sharply. "How did they know we were going anywhere?"

"Ask him," the colonel said, obviously too tipsy to care very much.

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