by Peter Greene
“Kozak said he was to meet the French ships here by mid-May,” Jonathan said. “Let us check the columns on the manifests from both April and May, just to be sure.”
Outside the fort, Gorman waited by the door behind a small pile of boxes and barrels. He wondered what could be taking the boys such a long time and soon became worried that something had gone awry. He returned to the window to see if maybe they would reappear, but after what seemed to be a half an hour, he realized they were probably either captured or lost. He couldn’t just barge in, screaming their names, hoping to find them. If things were still in order and all was well, he would just wake up the Spanish guards, and that would be unpleasant. He moved back to the door and decided to put his ear against it, hoping to hear something, anything that would help him. As he pressed his ear to the wooden planks, he could make out a small rumble that would start and stop on a regular basis. After a moment, he smiled and shook his head.
Snoring, he assumed. There must be someone asleep near the door. The boys must have seen this and will soon be back at the window. I will wait there and devise a new plan.
By the boulders at the beach where the jolly boat had been secured, Hudson and Hicks waited, their eyes on the fort. They had seen the boys climb the wall and the drunken guard stagger past. They had seen Gorman move to the far door, then return. They had even seen the boys reappear at the window. All this made them believe that something was not right.
“They should have let Captain Gorman in by now,” whispered Hudson.
“True. But they ‘aven’t,” said Hicks.
“They might be in trouble,” suggested Hudson.
“Could be, but probably not. Not yet at least,” said Hicks.
“How do you know that?” Hudson asked.
“No yelling. No gunfire,” said Hicks. “We would ‘ave ‘eard something. After all, it is a calm, silent night.”
After a brief moment of silence, they heard the gravelly soil behind them crunch. The sound made their eyes open wide and they quickly spun around, rifles at the ready. Hicks peered into the darkness and could see a shape that he hadn’t noticed before. It looked as if there was a rock about the size of a human head, balanced atop a large boulder. He was sure that it wasn’t there when they first took position. Then, the rock moved, descending behind the boulder.
Silently he motioned for Hudson with his hand, then pointed to the boulder. Hicks then waved to the left side. Hudson nodded, understanding the signal, and moved to the left. Hicks took the right. This way the marines were able to explore the boulder from each side and not let whoever was hiding behind it escape.
They crept as silently as they could. Then the sound of footsteps came once again from behind, crunching lightly on the rocky soil. The marines rushed to the other side of the boulder. There they saw a small figure rush just past the boat and duck behind a small bush.
They slowly aimed their rifles and proceeded towards the water. Their prey had nowhere to go.
“No shots now!” whispered Hudson.
They moved closer and closer. Finally, just a few feet away, they could see a shape behind the bush.
“Show yourself!” called Hudson, as loudly as he dared.
The figure of the stowaway stood up slowly and put two hands on hips in a show of defiance. The starlight cast just enough radiance on the face that features could be seen.
“It’s you!” they both said, lowering their rifles.
Jonathan and Sean knelt on the floor of the closet in the office, studying manifests. The lack of proper lighting made the task difficult, but they continued on, now sure they would find the correct one. They were through the rolls from April and were now looking into May. The word cañón was seen on only a few manifests, but as Jonathan pointed out, the numbers were too small.
After another five minutes, Jonathan replaced the rolls they had looked through into the shelf they came from and reached for the next pile. As each shelf seemed to represent a week, as they could tell by the dates on the manifests, he was startled by the next shelf. This one had over two dozen rolls.
That is a great many ships for just one week, he reasoned.
Jonathan held up the rolls he had taken from the stuffed shelf and presented it to Sean as if he were bowing. The boys smiled and each opened a roll. They poured over the details.
“Listen, Jonathan! ‘Expected on the fifteenth of Mayo, el barco mercante Orléans,’ with one hundred and fifteen cannon,” said Sean.
“Here is another: ‘Expected on the fifteenth of Mayo, el barco mercante Rodez,’ with one hundred and twenty-nine cannon of various sizes!” said Jonathan excitedly.
Each of the next several rolls they examined had similar listings. The boys determined that they should take all the manifests listed for the month of May, just to be sure, and gathered all the rolled manifests and set them into two piles. Nearby, they found twine to bind the rolls and make them easier to carry.
“Let us take these to the window and get out of here!” Jonathan said, and the boys reached for the closet door handle. But as they reached, the handle turned by itself and the door swung open from the other side.
“¿Que es esto?” said a short, squat man. He had a beard and was wearing a long nightshirt. He held a lantern high above his head to shed light on the boys.
“Ah, Buenos dias, señor!” Jonathan blurted out.
“¿Buenos dias?” the man yelled, anger showing on his face. “Es la noche! ¿Quiénes son ustedes muchachos? ¿Qué están haciendo en el armario?”
Jonathan looked to Sean and shrugged. After a moment, he charged past the man, using his fear to propel himself. Sean followed as they both ran to the door. But the man was fast for his size and beat them to the exit, blocking their way.
“Swords!” said Sean.
“Of course!” said Jonathan. They dropped the manifests and unsheathed their weapons. They smiled, knowing that they could easily handle a man in his nightshirt.
“En garde!” Sean said.
“If you dare!” said Jonathan.
The man smiled, set down the lantern on the desk and reached to the wall behind him, taking a beautifully crafted, bejeweled sword from its mount.
“So, you are Eeeng-leesh? And you think you can beat the Generalissimo, a Spaniard, with those leetle blades? Ha!” he said.
“So you are the Generalissimo?” asked Jonathan.
“Sí,” said the man, and then shouted loudly, “Guardias! Centinela! Espías en la oficina!”
“What did he say?” said Sean.
“I have no idea,” Jonathan said, “though I am sure it will not help us.”
Outside the doorway to the fort, Gorman heard the shouting. He knew Spanish and quickly translated the words: Guards, a detachment! Spies in the office!
“Time to go,” he said softly. “Sorry to wake you!”
Gorman took ten steps back, lowered his shoulder and ran at full speed into the wooden door. It gave way, not coming off the hinges, but splintering. Gorman sailed through, rolling over the broken boards and the sleeping guard. He ran down the hallway and turned left at the first junction. He knew there had to be a staircase leading up to the second floor, and he needed to find it before the hall became filled with guards.
In the office of the Generalissimo, the boys raised their swords. They were the first to press their attack.
It was a short attack, however, as the man deftly dropped his sword and produced a pistol from under his shirt. He aimed it at the boys, smiling.
“Not fair!” yelled Sean.
“Wee have a saying in Spain, my Eeeng-leesh friends: ‘La vida no es justa.’ It means ‘life ees not fair!’ Put down your blades!”
As the boys bent to place their swords on the floor, a voice was heard at the door.
“We have a saying in England,” said Gorman as he leveled his two pistols at the Generalissimo. “‘Dos pistolas son mejores que uno.’ It means ‘two pistols are better than one.’ Drop your weapon.”
“Gather your things, boys. Time to leave,” said Gorman. Jonathan and Sean retrieved the rolls of manifests and their swords, then moved to the door. Then they stopped, shocked at what they saw.
“Will this never end?” said Sean, exasperated as all saw two Spanish guards enter through the door, rifles leveled at Gorman. They cocked their flintlocks. Gorman, knowing the sound, stiffened. He raised his hands above his head.
“Now who has thee advantage, you Eeeng-leesh pigs?” said the Generalissimo. He reached for his pistol once again and aimed it at the boys.
Another shadow appeared in the doorway and moved slowly forward to stand behind the guards. Jonathan, Sean, and Gorman could not believe what they were seeing.
“Who eez thees?” asked the Generalissimo.
The guards turned their heads to look, keeping their rifles pointed at their prisoners.
“Allow me to introduce myself,” came a female voice as a young lady stepped into the full light of the room. “I am Miss Delain Dowdeswell, adventurer. And you will release my friends now or suffer the consequences.”
“Delain!” said Jonathan, now in utter bewilderment.
“I have now seen everything there is to see in this life,” muttered Gorman, astonished.
“Totally at a loss,” said Sean.
The Spanish were also stunned at this appearance of the young girl. Then they started to laugh.
“What are you going to do, niña?” said the man. “You are hardly a match for my guards and their rifles!”
“That is correct,” said Delain, “However, my two friends are more than enough.”
Stepping into the doorway, Hudson and Hicks each fired a shot, hitting both of the guards—one in the hands, the other in the shoulder—and knocking their weapons to the floor. Gorman now leveled his pistol at the Generalissimo.
“So sorry to leave you in such a condition, Señor,” said Gorman.
“What condition ees theez?” asked the Generalissimo.
Gorman struck him hard on the head with the butt of his pistol, sending him to the floor.
“That condition.”
The marines likewise used their rifle butts against the two injured guards, and Gorman quickly rushed everyone out the door.
“Hudson, Hicks, take the lead. Get us to the door. Miss Dowdeswell, in the middle. Boys, help me watch our rear. Hurry now!”
In this single line they hurried down the stairway and turned right after Hudson had called “all clear.” As they approached the junction nearest the exit, they heard a commotion outside. Hudson peaked around the corner and saw guards rushing in the door. He fired a shot. Hicks leveled a round in the same direction.
“That will hold them for a moment,” Hudson said. “We need to find another way out.”
“The window!” suggested Jonathan.
“Men, hold them here,” said Gorman. “We will exit the window, then draw their fire so you may effect your escape.”
Gorman led the boys and Delain up the stairs once again. Once at the top, they startled two new guards, whom they quickly dispatched with fast swordplay and a few well-placed kicks by Miss Dowdeswell. Rushing to the window, they saw three more guards below.
“The area will soon be swarming with men,” said Gorman. “I will go first and move behind the large boulders on the left. I will fire a few shots at the guards to distract them. The rest of you will head straight to the boat, do you understand? Get her ready to depart!”
Gorman slipped over the windowsill and hung by his hands for a moment. He made his way downward quickly and after a few feet, he let go, falling to the ground. In a flash, he was up, limping, but heading to the boulders, pistols drawn.
“I will go next,” said Sean.
“And Delain, you follow immediately. I will keep watch. Hurry now!” said Jonathan.
Sean slipped over the sill, followed by Delain, and like Gorman, both precariously moved from stone to stone, getting as low as they could before letting go. Sean dropped only a few feet and landed unhurt.
“That’s not too bad!” he said, standing and brushing himself off.
Delain then dropped, landing directly on Sean.
“Ow!” came his cry.
Jonathan leaned over the edge of the window and saw the tangled heap of his friends.
“Sean, stop your silliness and take these!” he said, tossing the manifests out the window. He then slipped over the edge of the sill and began his climb down. After a few moments, he heard shots coming from around the corner. He turned to look and saw Gorman firing at the Spanish guards from behind a pile of boulders. In a moment, there were more shots fired in Gorman’s direction and then so much shouting, screaming, and gunfire that it was hard to tell exactly what was happening.
Jonathan dropped to the ground safely and together they ran towards the boat. Keeping their eyes on Gorman’s position, they hoped to see all three marines running to meet them. As they ran further on, they could now see the boat in the gloom on their right and the fort door to their left.
“Wait,” Jonathan said. “Look! Gorman is vastly outnumbered. We must help somehow!”
“All we have is our swords. They are no match for so many guns!” said Sean.
Jonathan looked about, as he always did when in trouble, looking for something he could use. He found nothing but sand and bushes and . . . rocks.
“Rocks!” he yelled and picked up one the size of his fist, then another. Sean and Delain joined him and soon they had a dozen or so each.
They ran towards the fort, keeping low and out of sight, and when they were within twenty or thirty feet, they found a small tree to hide behind. They could see Gorman loading his pistol and six or seven guards now leaving the protection of crates and barrels, approaching his position.
“On three, and don’t stop throwing until you are out!” Jonathan cried. “One . . . two . . . three!”
With that, they stood and threw the rocks with great force at the approaching Spaniards. As there was no noise, the guards were not alerted to the incoming projectiles, and though two missed, a third struck one man hard on the chest. The man fell. Soon, other stones rained down upon them, many finding their mark. Confused, the soldiers turned and ran back to the crates that surrounded the door.
“Hudson! Hicks! Now!” cried Jonathan, and the barrage of rocks continued, joined by Gorman’s pistols, now reloaded.
Within seconds, Hudson and Hicks exited the building, firing a few last shots into the backs of the guards, then rushing into the safety of the darkness. Gorman retreated as well, and quickly, all were running as fast as they could to the jolly boat.
“Rocks?” said Gorman as he assisted Delain and the boys into the boat. “Clever, Jonathan.”
“We really had no other options,” he answered. “But it did the trick.”
“I used to throw rocks at squirrels as a kid,” said Sean, “and a few at bullies on the streets of London when need be. A cheap and reliable weapon, I’d say!”
They were soon all in the boat. Hudson and Hicks immediately manned the oars and rowed hard and strong. Delain even placed her hand over the side and paddled.
“Any little bit can help,” she said, smiling.
Gorman watched the shoreline, and as he suspected, they were not out of danger just yet. A few of the guards must have alerted others, and now a score more men were seen at the edge of the fort, running to a stretch of beach to the north.
“I think we are about to have some company,” Gorman said.
Just as the moon rose from behind the low hills to the east, Jonathan and Sean turned to see several boats being launched, now visible in the new light.
“That is not what we needed right now,” the Marine Captain said. “It must be later than I thought. Our delay may make this interesting!”
“I believe it has been quite interesting already,” said Delain.
The enemy continued to
gain on them, as there were at least four oars for each of the Spanish boats compared to only two oars manned by Hudson and Hicks. All knew it was a long way to row to meet the Danielle, wherever she was, and their chance at escape was slipping away. To make matters worse, some of the Spanish boats had riflemen, and soon shots were ringing out, splashing in the water nearby.
Jonathan turned and looked out to sea, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Danielle. He saw nothing but a fog bank.
“Captain Gorman, there is a fog bank ahead! We can hide within it!” he suggested.
“Row!” Gorman yelled to his marines. “Row yourselves to exhaustion or you will die at the guns of our enemies!”
This seemed to spur them on, as the boat lurched ahead.
“They are still gaining on us!” said Delain.
And just then, the first wisps of fog spilled over the jolly boat. After a few moments, it was hard to make out their pursuers.
“Keep rowing!” said Jonathan. “We are now hidden from their view! But we must keep a sharp eye out. The fog may dissipate and expose us again!”
For the time being, they were completely covered by the mist and could not see more than a few feet in front of their faces. Jonathan peered ahead, hoping the fog remained thick and would continue to conceal them.
After a few moments had passed he suddenly gasped aloud. There, dead ahead, rushing up quickly at their boat, was a great black shape in the water, towering dozens of feet into the air. The boat slammed into the object, jarring all of them from their positions and almost throwing Sean into the dark sea.
“Dear God!” shouted Gorman as he spun around to see what they had struck. “What is this?”
“This is HMS Danielle,” came a voice, “and I suggest you row about to the starboard side, as we are about to liven things up just a bit!”
They all turned to look at the ominous shape. As the fog rolled in and out, they could now make out the side of the great ship, two decks of gun ports open. One by one, the golden circles of the weapons were being rolled into firing position. Out of one port appeared Harrison, smiling widely.
