Ramage's steward brought in a pot of hot tea on a tray, put it on the side of the desk and said: 'When will you be ready for your shaving water, sir? I've laid out fresh clothes.'
Ramage looked up weary and unshaven and put down his pen. His eyes felt full of sand and his head ached. 'Another half an hour,' he said. 'Pass the word for Mr Southwick and bring another cup and saucer for him.' He heard the distant bleating of several goats and the mewing of gulls. Occasionally there was the heavy splash of a pelican diving into the water nearby in the endless search for fish, but apart from that and the noise of men working on deck, there was only the sound of water lapping against the Juno's side as she swung to her anchorage early this Monday morning.
The anchorage, two cables north of Diamond Rock in five fathoms of water, was a comfortable one. The Surcouf was lying just to the south, riding to the cable that had towed her down from Fort Royal, and La Mutine was between the two frigates and the great rock. Out to the west La Créole was stretching seaward until she could see up the coast towards Cap Salomon and then back to round the Diamond. One of the Juno's lookouts aloft was watching the coast but so far he had nothing to report. There was no sign of activity along the two miles of sandy beach forming the Grande Anse du Diamant. No doubt the Governor would send cavalry patrols along the coast to see if the Juno and her prize were at anchor in one of the many bays or if both ships were on their way to Barbados. The naval commander would probably have told him that it was easy enough for the Juno to tow the Surcouf the hundred or so miles to windward; he might even speculate that the Juno's captain would leave the two captured schooners to maintain the blockade, so that the expected convoy, which the French had no reason to think Ramage knew about, had nothing to fear. Ramage was reasonably sure (or, more correctly, trying to persuade himself that he could be) that the French would never dream he would try to finish refitting the Surcouf. He was quite sure Rear-Admiral Davis would never dream of it.
He stared down at the report that he had been writing: it was the third draft, and young Baker was waiting to leave for Barbados in La Mutine to deliver it to the Admiral. Describing the night attack on the Juno by the two schooners and their capture was no problem; using La Mutine as a flag of truce, and the Juno and the Créole to cut out the Surcouf was covered in four paragraphs. The warning that the French were expecting a convoy in a week took a couple of lines. He included the polite suggestion that the convoy could be a week early, in which case it could arrive any moment, or a week late. What was hard was trying to tell the Admiral he was getting the Surcouf ready for the voyage to Barbados without the wily old man guessing that he intended holding on to her until the last moment, so that he had two frigates to tackle the convoy. The Admiral could, and probably would, argue that Ramage should have used the Juno to tow her to Barbados, where many more men were available to get her ready, and that the two schooners could maintain a watch on Port Royal while the Juno was away, and that by the time the convoy was due the Juno would be back ...
There were other reasons, too, and Ramage hoped that Southwick, who had just returned on board after spending most of the night surveying the Surcouf, would confirm them. He picked up the pen and scratched out a sentence. It was always easier to fight an action than to write the dispatch about it.
He poured out a cup of tea and idly picked up the letter which was sealed with the arms of France and addressed to 'The Admiral Commanding the English Forces at Barbados', thought once more about opening it and decided for the fifth or sixth time to send it on to Admiral Davis for whom, Baker had told him, the Governor of Fort Royal had really intended it.
The French had finally honoured the flag of truce, though it had been necessary to send the French lieutenant on shore first. Baker said it had been a close-run affair. As soon as the French wounded had been taken on shore and the prisoners freed, the French authorities had wanted to seize the schooner and take Baker and his men prisoner. At that point the French lieutenant had unexpectedly intervened. He had described how Bowen had worked without sleep tending the French wounded; how Ramage had asked him to conduct the funeral service over the French dead; said that, as a French officer, he had agreed to the exchange and that he had come on shore in the first place on parole. If the authorities held the ship, he had said dramatically (and Baker had given a fair imitation of the gestures that went with it) he would regard himself as still a prisoner of the English. The French naval commander had finally come down to the beach and threatened to arrest the lieutenant for treason and mutiny; the lieutenant had said his honour and the honour of France was at stake, and that he would welcome being arrested because the news would eventually get back to the English. They would know then that he had not broken his word of honour and his parole but been forced into it by his own senior officers who should know better but apparently did not.
That, Baker said, had decided it. The lieutenant was hustled off, but half an hour later another officer came out and handed over the letter from the Governor and, with ill grace, said that if La Mutine was not under way within fifteen minutes the guns of Fort St Louis would open fire. Baker had asked for an assurance that the terms of the exchange of prisoners would be observed but the officer had said he knew nothing about it; he was an aide to the Governor and had been told only to deliver the letter. With that Baker had weighed and La Mutine had caught up with the two frigates before they had reached the Diamond.
Ramage heard footsteps on the companionway and a moment later Southwick knocked and bustled into the cabin, his eyes red-rirnmed, the flesh of his cheeks sagging with weariness, but in good spirits. He sat down in a chair with a groan, massaging his back, then when Ramage looked inquiringly he said hurriedly: 'Don't mention it to Bowen, sir; he'll only want to slap on a mustard plaister, and they don't do a damned bit o' good.'
'Well, how many plaisters does the Surcouf need?'
'None at all, sir,' Sauthwick said with a triumphant grin. 'She's ready to get under way the minute her sails are bent on.'
'Our spare suit - can we alter any of them to make them fit? Cut out some panels or sew on some more? Her yards look shorter than ours.'
'That's just it,' Southwick said gleefully, slapping his knee, 'all her sails are on board! Sails, clewlines, buntlines, blocks - everything! I reckon they were just about to get them up from the sail room when the best of her men and the first lieutenant were taken off and sent to the schooners.'
Ramage gave a sigh of relief. 'What about provisions, powder and water?'
Southwick dug into his pocket and pulled out a grimy sheet of paper, which he carefully smoothed out. I don't know what they intended to do with her, sir, but we know they stripped the other frigate to fit her out, and she's provisioned for three months at our establishment. I know the French usually have a ship's company half as large again as us, but ...’
'Perhaps they were going to send her back to France.'
'Could be, sir. Anyway the water's fresh, and from what the cooper says the casks were well scoured before they were filled. The powder is very good quality - the gunner says its as good as ours. Salt pork and salt beef, a lot o' rice, fresh bread - 1 swear it didn't leave the bakery more than a week ago. Not a weevil in it.'
'Have you made an official inventory yet?' Ramage inquired cautiously.
'Me, sir?' Southwick asked innocently. 'Oh, no, it'd take a week. No, I only had time to have a quick stroll through the ship with the purser, gunner, bos'n, carpenter and cooper. You didn't mention an official inventory. Proper inventories and survey, sir,' he said with an archness that would have done credit to a bishop's wife, take time: two or three days at least.'
'In the meantime,' Ramage said, as though talking to himself, 'any rogues oould go on board and plunder the ship: they could take off provisions, water, powder . . .'
'And rolls of canvas, firewood, new holystones - she has a score or more unused in the bos'n's store - new leather buckets, a complete set of surgical instruments, a dozen live sheep: oh dear me, sir, there's no telling what they could take if the prize crew weren't keeping a sharp lookout.'
It was a great temptation; the Juno could stay at sea for many extra weeks without provisioning; with several tons more fresh water, for instance, she would not have to go down to St Lucia or across to Barbados to fill her casks; the sail-maker would welcome the extra bolts of canvas . . . But it was risky: the problem would be to account for the extra stores in the Juno's books. If she was desperately short of water or powder or provisions, he would be justified in taking what he needed, but Rear-Admiral Davis knew the Juno was well-provisioned, so it became a matter of prize money. Everything on board the Surcouf would be valued, including the ship herself, and the Juno and her Captain would eventually get their share of the prize money, as would Rear-Admiral Davis. It would be a considerable amount, and by a bit of good fortune once the Admiral's eighth was deducted the rest would go to the Junos. Every British ship in sight at the time of the capture had a right to a share, but the only other British ships were the two captured schooners manned by Junos.
He would risk it if he could take all the blame, but it would mean involving too many others who would also be brought to trial if the Admiral wanted to make an issue of it. The Master, the bos'n, purser, gunner, at least two of the lieutenants . . . An idea that had come to him when he saw the Diamond Rock for the first time - and which he had dismissed as absurd almost as soon as it appeared - was gnawing at him again.
'Cheeses, too!' Southwick said as the memory struck him. 'Never seen so much cheese in all my days, sir, and tubs of butter. Seems a pity to let all those provisions go to Barbados when all we have to look forward to for a change of diet is goat's meat from the Diamond ...'
Ramage jumped up, put a paperweight on the letter he had been drafting, grabbed his hat and said to Southwick: 'Come on, we're going for a short cruise in the cutter.'
An hour later the cutter had completed a circuit of Diamond Rock and the men were resting at the oars with the boat drifting twenty yards from a flat, rocky ledge behind which was an enormous cave, its entrance yawning black-mouthed and, as Southwick commented, looking as if a great dragon would emerge at any moment, breathing fire and smoke. There was very little swell as it was too early for the Trade wind to have set in.
'This is the only possible landing place,' Ramage said. 'We'll chance it and inspect the big cave - and the others, if we have time.'
Ramage pointed to the ledge. 'Put us on shore there,' he told Jackson. 'Go in stern first and hold the boat there just long enough for Mr Southwick and me to jump on to the rock, then stand off.'
'Aye, aye, sir,' Jackson said. 'Rossi and I can give you a hand and Stafford can take the boat out until -'
'Mr Southwick and I can take care of ourselves,' Ramage snapped. 'You stay in the boat, and while you're standing off make sure you note any odd rocks: you might be coming back here a few times.'
The men bent to the oars while Ramage and Southwick scrambled across to the stern. 'Looks slippery, sir,' Southwick warned. That green weed ...'
A few moments later Ramage jumped, landed safely and turned to give Southwick a hand. 'Welcome to the Diamond,' he said, and stood watching for a moment as the oarsmen rowed steadily to get clear.
The Rock towered above them almost vertically. Apart from the wide ledge on which they stood and a flat section beyond, it was a home for goats and precious little else. But the cave was enormous, with several more smaller ones nearby and ones higher up the rock face. Ramage eyed the ledge, which formed a projecting point and gave a little shelter to the cove. A gun mounted here would protect it very well, and the surface of the rock was flat enough to allow for the recoil.
He turned towards the cave and saw Southwick about to enter it, the sheer size of the gaping hole dwarfing him. A moment later the Master vanished. Ramage heard him shouting and began running, thinking he had fallen in the darkness and hurt himself. As he heard the echoes, he realized that Southwick was using his voice to get some idea how far back the cave ran into the Rock. It was like entering an enormous cathedral and as his eyes became used to the darkness he saw the long stalactites pointing down from the roof. Yet the air was dry and it was dry underfoot: he had been expecting it to be dank, the sides running with water and green with moss.
Southwick loomed up beside him. 'Big enough to stow a complete frigate,' he said, and there was no mistaking his meaning.
sIf anyone could sway a couple of 12-pounders up to the top of the Rock, they'd need a magazine, and this cave is dry enough,' Ramage murmured, obviously doing little more than thinking aloud. 'They'd need a place to store provisions and water. The guns' crews would stand a couple of days' watch aloft while the others were down here; then they'd change over. I don't know how they'd get to the top - rig a jackstay, most probably ... It would be easier to work that out from the Juno, using a telescope: you can't see a damned thing just staring up from the ledge.'
'There's another ledge on the north side, two thirds of the way up,' Southwick said. 'It looks as though something took a big bite out of the rock. I think there's a cave at the back of it. It'd make another fine battery to cover the Fours Channel. A 12-pounder could probably reach the Grande Anse du Diamant. No ship could sneak through the channel without a gun there giving it a hot time. With a pair of guns right at the top - goodness me, nearly six hundred feet high: just think of the extra range - and plunging fire!' Even in the darkness Ramage sensed the old man's increasing excitement as he went on: 'That would give us three guns to cover the channel, and two of those, the pair at the top, can probably fire all round - north, west, south and east. And the lookouts could see all the way down to the southern tip of Martinique! Rig up a mast and they could hoist flag signals which the Juno would see while she was up to the north-west. Have to keep out to the west so the Diamond is clear of the land, but just think, a frigate off Fort Royal Bay would know what's going on right down at Pointe des Salines, twenty miles away! Why -'
'Easy now,' Ramage said mildly, 'you don't have to convince me: I've had something like this in mind ever since we first sailed past the place. But don't get too carried away; swaying a pair of 12-pounders nearly six hundred feet up to the top of this Rock will be more than a morning's work, if it can be done at all.'
They walked out of the cave and stood blinking in the bright sunlight, and then walked along looking into the smaller caves. Southwick kicked at the broad-bladed grass. The men will like this for making sennet hats.' He pointed to the caves. 'The whole place looks like that cheese with holes in it.'
'Gruyère,' Ramage said. 'And the big cave is where a mouse had a feast'
'More likely a rat,' Southwick said. 'It's the biggest cave I've ever seen, let alone walked into. Those spiky things hanging down from the roof make it look like a portcullis, I hope none of them drop off!'
They looked into the cave aad Ramage turned to seaward and waved to the boat. 'Come on, these caves remind me of witches' cauldrons and bats and vampires . . .'
Back on board the Juno Ramage silenced all Southwick's attempts to discuss the Diamond Rock; instead he took him down to his cabin, tossed his hat on to the settee and sat down at the desk. Taking out the pen and ink, he added a single paragraph to the draft of his letter to Admiral Davis.
After calling to the sentry to pass the word for his clerk, he began a letter addressed to 'The Agent for Transport and Prisoners of War'. The clerk arrived and was told to take the draft of the letter to Admiral Davis and make a fair copy, and bring it back when it was ready. 'Don't waste time copying it into the Captain's Letter Book,' Ramage told him. 'Make the entry afterwards from my draft.'
Ramage then finished a brief letter to the Agent, describing how he had landed the prisoners because he was unable to guard them, and saying that he was enclosing a list of their names and the signature of the surviving French commanding officer agreeing that the men should not serve against the British again until the exchange had been regularized. Ramage knew there would be a fuss, but he had covered the point in his letter to the Admiral. The letter to the Agent was a formality to cover the list he was sending.
As he wrote at the desk, Southwick sat back in a chair with ill-concealed impatience. The clerk returned with the fair copy of the dispatch and took the draft of the letter to the Agent.
Ramage turned to Southwick. 'You remind me of an impatient bridegroom. Baker is probably in his cabin packing his sea chest. Find him and bring him here. Once he's on his way to Barbados we can start making plans.'
The clerk arrived with the fair copy of the letter to the Agent, waited until Ramage had signed it and the dispatch, and then took away both letters and the list of prisoners to seal. After wiping the pen and screwing the cap on the ink bottle, Ramage sat back and stared down at the polished grain of the desk top. In the past two days he had not had a moment for real thought. He snatched at ideas as they raced through his mind, rejecting some and adopting others; decisions seemed to arrive already made but without proper consideration. He felt like a clucking hen startled to find it had laid an egg. So far his decisions had been the correct ones, but this was due to good luck rather than judgement. It was only a matter of time, he thought gloomily, before one of the eggs turned out to be bad.
Yes, the present difficulty is Admiral Davis, not the French. Should he have mentioned his plan in the dispatch? He sighed and tapped his fingers on the desk top. Should he, shouldn't he, should he ... and so it went on. Indecision, indecision . . . Well, not exactly indecision because he had already signed the dispatch without mentioning it, so at least he had decided that much. No, his bother was that, having made the decision, he was starting to question himself. It always happened, and he hated it.
Very well, what are you trying to do, Captain Ramage? You are carrying out Admiral Davis's orders which are simple enough: blockade Fort Royal, preventing any ships from entering or leaving. Splendid, my dear fellow; you have a firm grip on the situation. The new development is that by a stroke of good fortune you have discovered from that boastful French lieutenant that a convoy (he implied a large one) is due in Fort Royal within a week. A large convoy means a large escort, and 'a week' after an Atlantic crossing could mean today or two weeks' time; more, if the convoy met bad weather off Biscay followed by Trade winds.
Go on, Captain Ramage, he jeered at himself, so you had to make a decision: should you send the Surcouf to Barbados with a prize crew on board, with one of the schooners to bring the prize crew back, leaving yourself with only the Juno (minus the men needed to provide three prize crews) and a schooner to fight off the escorts and capture the convoy - or, at the very least, prevent it from entering Fort Royal Bay? That was the question, and it was a simple one.
The difficulty arises because there is more than one answer. You can hurriedly fit out the Surcouf, so that you have two frigates to tackle the convoy, keeping one schooner and sending the other to Barbados with the dispatch to raise the alarm, and hope Admiral Davis is still there with the Invincible and some frigates, so that he can get under way for Martinique immediately to help tackle the convoy. (Help, he thought to himself: the Invincible and a couple of frigates would be more than enough.)
That is one answer but it certainly is not the one that Admiral Davis will expect. It is the right answer, though - with due respect to you, Admiral - because it takes into account the time factor; that the convoy is just as likely to be early as late: one can be damned sure it will not be on time.
Another answer would be for the Juno to tow the Surcouf to Barbados, leaving the two schooners to maintain the blockade, That is the answer that the Admiral would expect: a bird in the hand (and so a share of the prize money in the pocket) was worth two in the bush. Admiral Davis would argue that only the Invincible and more frigates could deal with the convoy, and that the Juno's absence from Martinique for three or four days was an acceptable risk since the two schooners would be patrolling, and one could reach Barbados and raise the alarm.
If you were an admiral, Ramage asked himself, would you accept that the commanding officer of the Juno - ayoung man at the bottom of the post list - could in fact perform magic, doing something which is a compromise between the two answers? Instead of sending the Surcouf to Barbados, fit her out so that quite unexpectedly an extra frigate is available for the Martinique blockade, and send a schooner to Barbados with a warning of the convoy. In the meantime, he had a plan for the Diamond that no one had ever tried ...
He balanced the quill pen on a finger. Captain Ramage was not an admiral nor ever likely to be, so he ought to look at the situation through the protruberant and bloodshot eyes of the man who was, Henry Davis, Rear-Admiral of the Red and Commander-in-Chief of his Majesty's ships and vessels ...
The Admiral would not believe it possible, with the Juno already stripped of men to provide the prize crews for the two schooners, for Ramage to get the Surcouf ready for action within a week. He would also say - and that was much more important - that even if the French frigate could be got ready, there was still the problem of manning her. Ramage would have to halve the number of men remaining in the Juno and send them on board the Surcouf. Instead of two fully-manned frigates ready for action he would have two frigates manned with skeleton crews.
Ramage tipped the feather end of the quill so that it dropped to the desk, He had to admit that the Admiral would (by his own standards) have grounds for complaint. The difference was that the two frigates would be manned by Junos, who had already achieved more in less than a week on the station than Captain Eames and his frigate had in several months. That was not an answer he could possibly give the Admiral, though, since Captain Eames was one of his favourites.
To divide one ship's company between two frigates and two schooners might horrify Admiral Davis, but that was not the end of it. Ramage was proposing to take away another twenty men and use them for a hare-brained scheme which could make him the laughing stock of the Navy.
His thoughts were interrupted by the clerk bringing back the letters, having applied the seals. The man had no sooner left the cabin than Southwick arrived with Baker, both apologizing for being so long. Ramage told them to sit down and stared at the sealed packets. The clerk had a flowing style of handwriting and Ramage picked up the letter addressed to Admiral Davis. It would take only fifteen minutes to write another one. Or he could get the Juno under way and tow the Surcouf to Barbados. Or he could see if one of the schooners could tow her, with the second schooner in company. Or -
He picked up the two packets and handed them to Baker, deliberately ending the conflict in his mind; he then opened a drawer and took out another letter which he had written earlier.
These are your orders,' he said. 'They tell you to proceed to Barbados and deliver this to the Admiral and -' he pointed to the thinner packet '- this to the Agent for Prisoners. If you can't find the Agent, leave it with the Admiral's secretary.'
'Aye, aye, sir,' Baker said. 'I'll be under way in a few minutes: we've already shortened in the cable.'
'My written orders tell you to return here immediately you have delivered the dispatch,' Ramage said. 'It might occur to the Admiral, if he thinks about it, to keep you and La Mutine with him in Bridgetown. You might find it possible to ...'
'I'll stay on board the flagship for as little time as possible, sir,' Baker said with an understanding grin.
'What about charts?' Ramage inquired, suddenly remembering this was Baker's first voyage as an acting commanding officer, apart from the visit to Fort Royal.
'I've just been making copies of Mr Southwick's, sir.'
'I've given you copies of the challenge and reply for the next week and you have a copy of the signal book. Remember, guard them with your life and keep them in a weighted bag ready to sink if there's a chance of you being captured.'
'I know, sir.'
'I know you know,' Ramage said sternly, 'but for the whole of your time at sea up to now it has been your commanding officer's responsibility. Now you are the commanding officer ...’
‘I understand, sir,' said a chastened Baker.
When the lieutenant left the cabin, Southwick nodded. 'He's a good lad, that one. Not many young third lieutenants could take command of a schooner the way he did and handle that flag of truce business so well.'
'We've a lot to thank Lord St Vincent for,’ Ramage commented. 'He sent us good officers.'
The Master straightened up in his chair and said in what Ramage immediately recognized as his serious, let's-get-down-to-business voice: 'The Diamond, sir, what are we -'
Ramage held up his hand to silence him and stood up, going to the skylight and calling: 'Deck there.'
‘Benson here, sir,' the midshipman answered from the quarterdeck.
'Has Mr Baker left the ship yet?'
'Just gone, sir; boat's about thirty yards away. D'you want me to hail him, sir?'
'No, it's all right,' Ramage said, and sat down again.
Southwick looked puzzled and Ramage smiled. 'My dispatch to the Admiral told him that we had captured the Surcouf and were making her ready for sea. The Admiral will assume I meant making her ready to send her to Barbados. Very well, that dispatch is now on its way. Unfortunately the circumstances changed just after the dispatch had been sent and fresh decisions had to be made ...'
Southwick slapped his knee in a familiar gesture and grinned broadly. 'So that was why you kept shutting me up.'
'I don't know how you dare suggest that your commanding officer might be party to any deception, Mr Southwick,' Ramage said mildly. ‘Ishould have thought that up to now we were all far too busy to do anything more than write reports and see what was needed to get the Surcouf under way, after all, it was my duty to inform the Admiral immediately that a French convoy was expected, and using a schooner was the quickest way. I think any group of captains would see the necessity for that.'
'By jove, yes!' Southwick exclaimed, realizing that Ramage's mention of 'any group of captains' was a veiled reference to the officers forming a court martial. 'So now at last we have a few minutes to decide about the Surcouf. After you discovered you could commission her, sir, anyone would agree that you dare not send another schooner with a further report: that would weaken the blockade at a critical time.'
'Precisely,' Ramage said, 'since the convoy is likely to arrive any day.'
‘When do we start the work?' Southwick asked eagerly. The moment La Mutine is out of sight. I want Baker to be able to tell the Admiral in all honesty that when he last saw the Surcouf her yards were bare of sails and there had been no time for anything more than a quick inspection by the Juno's Master. That is what I say in my dispatch, incidentally.'
'We'll have those sails bent on and the ship ready for action by this time tomorrow, sir,' Southwick promised. 'How many men can I have for the Diamond?'
Ramage raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. 'What do you propose doing over there? Chase goats or let the men cut that broad-bladed grass and plait sennet hats?'
'I want to get the Surcouf's sheep landed there to start with,' Southwick said. 'Can't stand the constant baaa, and there's grazing plenty at the landing place. After that, a 12-pounder to cover the landing place - or a 6-pounder, if you'd prefer it, sir. Then two 12-pounders hoisted up on top of the Rock and another 12-pounder half-way up on the north-west side.'
'How do you propose getting the 12-pounders up to the top?' Ramage inquired mildly.
‘I’ll find a way,' Southwick said grimly. 'Give me those dozen Tritons and we'll haul 'em up with our teeth if necessary.'
Ramage shook his head. 'First, I want you to get those sails bent on the Surcouf’s yards: use every able-bodied man you can find. The Marines can help if necessary. I think we need Aitken; I'm going to call him in and put Wagstaffe in command of the Créole. You'd better rouse out one of the Surcouf’s own cables; we are going to need the one we used to tow her.'
Southwick looked puzzled. 'The ten-inch cable, sir?'
‘The only way you're going to get those guns up to the top of the Diamond is to rig a jackstay, and the other cables we have on board are seventeen inch, almost twice the weight...’
'A jackstay, sir?' Southwick exclaimed. 'But where can you secure the lower end? The water's too deep for the men to dive down and find a big rock, and anyway, that'd –‘
A dull and distant boom interrupted him.
Ramage leapt up with an oath. 'That damned battery on Diamond Hill!'
There was a shadow at the skylight. 'Captain, sir,' Wagstaffe called. 'The battery on the Hill - a single shot and it's fallen half a mile short.'
Ramage acknowledged the report and followed Southwick up the companionway. He took the telescope Wagstaffe was offering him and trained it on the ridge that ran round the Hill a third of the way up. It was too late, the smoke had drifted away in the wind and there was no sign of the guns. Suddenly he spotted a brief red glow, barely a pinpoint, and then a puff of smoke.
'Watch the fall of shot,' he snapped. 'I don't want to lose sight of the battery. A clump of six small trees permanently leaning to the west from the wind - they're growing at the eastern end of the battery, A triangular bare rock in front. Yes, there's a track running just below - probably goes round to join up with the road that runs short of the north-east side ...'
'Fell half a mile short, sir,' Wagstaffe said.
'Pass the word for the Marine Lieutenant,' Ramage said and, looking round, nodded. 'Ah, there you are, Rennick. Take the glass and fix the position of that battery in your mind. Mr Southwick has its position marked on the chart, but you'll have to get up it in the dark tonight, unless their shooting improves and we have to leave in a hurry.'
A third and a fourth shot from the battery fell half a mile short, but both were in line with the Juno. Southwick gave one of his enormous sniffs of contempt but Ramage said: They're only 6-pounders. If they were 12-pounders we'd be slipping our cable in a hurry. These fellows know what they're up to; they just don't have the range.'
'Aye, belike they'll pass the word to the Governor and he'll decide they need bigger guns,' Southwick said gloomily. 'Better we get under way now and bowl 'em over.'
'Have a look through the glass,' Ramage said patiently. 'The battery stands well back on the ridge that spirals up the mountain. Twenty or thirty yards back, as far as I can see. Once we were close enough to open fire - don't forget they have an advantage of being five hundred feet up - that ridge protects them: it's a natural rampart. We'd need mortars to lob shells over the ridge and down on to them. A bomb ketch.'
Southwick glanced at the Marine Lieutenant, who was slowly swinging the telescope down the side of the mountain and across to the long beach running to the eastward, and muttered: 'He'll never find his way up there in the dark.'
Ramage saw Rennick stiffen but continue his careful survey of the coastline. He had obviously heard Southwick's comment. Then he turned, handed the telescope to Ramage and said: 'If you can spare a boat to land me and my men at the western end of that long beach, sir, I'll have those guns. I estimate the emplacement is large enough for three, though they're only firing one for ranging. I'll get them pitched over the edge within two hours.'
Ramage nodded, pleased at the lieutenant's enthusiasm. 'You can have a couple of dozen seamen too, if you need them.'
'Thank you, sir, but my own men will be sufficient. A few extra seamen in the boat, perhaps, in case there's cavalry patrolling along the beach.'
'Very well, get your men ready. Mr Wagstaffe, a cutter if you please, and a dozen extra men with muskets. Make sure they have plenty of powder and shot for the boat gun - cavalry might arrive before Mr Rennick returns from the battery.'
Half an hour later Ramage and Southwick watched the cutter run up on the beach, having stayed out of range of the battery, wait for a few minutes as the Marines scrambled on shore and then come out again, rowing round to a small cove fifty yards west of the beach and in the lee of the mountain. There, Ramage noted, the boat would be out of sight of any cavalry galloping along the beach.
Southwick grunted in the nearest he ever came to expressing satisfaction with Marines. 'They'll be all right. Pity they can't surprise those damned Frenchmen. Well, sir, I see the men are ready to re-anchor the Surcouf to get that ten-inch cable in. I'll go over and keep an eye on them.'
Aitken was now bringing the schooner Créole in from the westward: he had seen the Juno's signal ordering him on board and Wagstaffe was waiting with a seabag ready containing his clothes and quadrant. The Second Lieutenant was obviously excited and Ramage knew that this command, however brief it might prove to be, would make up for the disappointment of seeing the Third Lieutenant go off to Barbados in La Mutine.
Ramage took a pencil and pad from his pocket and went aft with a telescope, sitting down on the breech of the aftermost gun. He spent the next half an hour examining the Diamond Rock with the telescope, occasionally making a sketch on the pad and scribbling notes.
He had already drawn the south side of the great rock while in the cutter. There it was completely vertical from sea level to within a hundred feet or so of the top; then it sloped back gently for fifty feet, and then more sharply again to the peak. His sketch resembled a tooth, the raking pack at the top being the natural shape to bring the tooth to a point.
His inspection in the cutter had confirmed what he had feared from the start: the only way of getting guns up the Diamond, to whatever height, was by jackstay. Only the gun covering the landing place was going to be straight forward - if lowering it to the sea bed from a boat and then dragging it ashore could be described as straightforward.
He turned to a fresh page and copied the sketch he had made from the cutter, drawing the tooth-shaped rock with the vertical cliff face to the left. Then from sea level he drew a diagonal line up to the top of the cliff. That would be the jackstay, secured at the top round the rocky outcrop, and at the bottom to the anchored Juno. Running up the jackstay would be a big block, and from that would hang the gun. The block and gun would be hauled up the jackstay by a purchase, one set of blocks attached to the big block, and the other to the top of the cliff. The hauling part of the rope would come down to the Juno, where it would go round the capstan.
As he pencilled in the lines showing the ropes it seemed almost alarmingly simple, though he could imagine the difficulty he was going to have describing it all in a letter to Gianna. Imagine, he would tell her, that you have to hoist a heavy weight from the garden up to a high window in a house. You take a clothes line and tie one end to the window ledge and the other to the base of a tree in the garden, so the line is taut and running down a steep angle.
You put a pulley on the line (Gianna would be furious with him for using the word 'pulley' instead of the nautical 'block' which she understood well enough), and hang the weight on it. Then you hook one more pulley on the weight, and another to the window ledge. You pass a rope from the window ledge down to the pulley on the weight, back round the pulley on the window ledge and then down to the garden. Allora, cara mia, as you stand by the tree and haul on the rope, the weight will slowly rise up the line. And that, he would add, is what we did with the guns, give or take a few blocks, several hundred feet of rope and a few tons of weight. He could see her tracing with her finger as she read the letter, working it all out . . . She could never imagine just how close the Juno would be moored to the cliff, he thought grimly; so close that the ends of the yards would almost touch the rock face. He put the pad and pencil in his pocket and turned to watch the Marines attacking the battery as the Créole came in and anchored.