by Dudley Pope
'But what's to stop him going somewhere else?' Southwick interrupted.
'Because all his charts will have been removed,' Ramage said patiently. 'Removed by you. And your mates will comb the officers' cabins for anything resembling a chart And just before he boards La Perle you will present him with an accurate but not overly - detailed copy of this section of the chart - ' Ramage tapped the chart on his desk. This section only. That means he has little choice of destinations. He could go to Aruba, but he left there because there was nowhere to careen La Perle. It is unlikely he knows the coast of the Main - this section, anyway - so he won't know there's nowhere there for him to careen, either.'
'He doesn't need a chart to get up to Martinique,' South - wick pointed out. 'He knows the latitude of Fort Royal . . .'
That won't help him. Hell have only two days' water on board because you, Southwick, will empty the rest of the casks and that fresh water will be pumped over the side with the salt. With three hundred men and water for only two days, he needs to get somewhere in two days, which rules out Martinique by several days. You will also dispose of all the wine and spirits - over the side, of course.'
'Sir,' Rennick said anxiously, 'the guns . . .'
'Aitken will supply you with a working party and you will flood the hanging magazine. I don't want an ounce of usable powder in the ship. All the great guns are to be spiked and you'll cut the breechings. All the locks for the guns are to be brought on board the Calypso, along with all flints, muskets, pistols, cutlasses, tomahawks and pikes.
'Leave the shot in the locker - we don't have time to get them out, and anyway we are not concerned in reducing her draught - but all those on deck can be hove over the side.'
Southwick combined a doubtful sniff with a vigorous scratching of his head, and Ramage smiled as he looked at the master. 'What's worrying you, Mr Southwick?'
'Well, sir, I still can't see why this fellow Duroc has to make for the Main, and what good it does when he gets there.'
'He has water for only two days,' Ramage repeated patiently. 'Obviously that limits his range for two days' sailing. But, more important, his ship is making seven feet of water an hour. That means with every man taking his turn at the pumps and bailing with buckets he can just keep her afloat But for how long can he pump and bail? The men have to get some rest, quite apart from sailing the ship - and in this heat they have to drink a lot of water.'
'But when he arrives off the Main - say, at La Vela de Coro - and anchors, he can get fresh water from the Dons and careen the ship."
Ramage shook his head. 'Even supposing Duroc can get water, he has only enough casks for two days - hell never get more locally - he's still tied to a radius of two days' sailing from La Vela. Don't forget Martinique is almost dead to windward, six hundred miles or more, and that much punching to windward will double the leaks. So he's condemned to stay and pump wherever he first anchors, and my guess is hell end up so exhausted hell have to run the ship ashore - or land his men in the boats and let the ship sink. He has no other choice. But whatever happens, we're rid of her and the three hundred men.'
'And La Creole, sir?' Aitken prompted.
'She's our insurance. She keeps La Perle company until Duroc is anchored somewhere. Lacey has nothing to fear from the Spanish and the French frigate will not have even a pistol on board. Drilling out the spikes in the great guns will be beyond them - tell the carpenter to take off all suitable drill bits and small awls, Mr Aitken. Lacey could batter her to pieces in an hour or two, if Duroc tried any tricks.'
By an hour before midnight the two head pumps and hoses from the Calypso were being brought back on board from La Perle and Southwick reported that the French frigate's own pumps were holding the leaks. Ramage had gone through the ship in the last of the daylight, inspecting the nails which had been hammered into the touchholes of all the great guns to spike them, the heads cut off, the ends riveted to make it impossible to pull them out. Only drilling would make the guns usable again - many hours of patient work with the proper tools which only an armourer would have. La Perle's armourer did have them, but his elaborately carved and brass - bound box of tools was now on board the Calypso, whose armourer was walking round with the unbelieving smile of a small boy given the Christmas present about which he dreamed but never thought to get. Water casks had been smashed and the hoops thrown over the side, the staves lying about in the holds like dozens of pieces of melon rind. A few casks had been left untouched: the two days' supply of water for the three hundred men. The hanging magazine, a lathe - and - plaster - lined cabin whose deck was three feet below the normal deck level so that it could be flooded with hoses, was now a small rectangular pond, the water slopping as the ship rolled, with scores of what seemed like dead cats floating in it - the cartridges for the guns. Casks of powder had their bungs removed; the grey powder they contained was sodden and some had washed out so that the water had the consistency of a thin grey soup.
Southwick and Aitken had made a thorough job of limiting La Perle's range. Bags of bread had been ripped open and the hard tack they contained soaked with salt water, taking care that none of the resulting mash went into the bilge, where it would plug the strainers and block the pumps. Casks of cheese, jars of oil, barrels of sauerkraut (which accounted for the vile smell), sacks and casks of oatmeal - all had been smashed, cut open, or the contents spoiled with salt water.
All the books and papers from the cabins of the captain and the master - they included another signal book, and the order book giving every order Duroc had received since before leaving France - were now stacked in Ramage's cabin, while the charts were in Southwick's, At the purser's suggestion, only a couple of dozen candles had been left in the ship. It was a very good idea but Ramage had been amused at the reason behind it. In the Royal Navy the purser had to pay for and supply free all the candles used in a ship, and now the Calypso had a windfall of several hundred, admittedly thin and of poor quality. No doubt Rowlands was hoping - though he would not dare suggest it - that the captain would not mention the acquisition in the Calypso's log. This would, Ramage noted wryly, make the purser the only man to make a financial profit from La Perle's capture.
The French prisoners were quite cheerful, despite the pumping, and Ramage had stopped to chat with several of them. A few grumbled about blistered hands and aching backs from the hours they had spent at the pumps, but the only real complaint was the heat: it was the heat that was exhausting them. Curiously enough, no one had asked what was going to happen to them, yet with several of the men - the master.
carpenter and bosun, for example - Ramage had chatted for some time, with none of them realizing that he was the Calypso's captain.
An hour to midnight, and there was La Creole's lantern: Lacey had been on board the Calypso to receive his orders and was obviously delighted with them. Ramage recognized the expression on Lacey's face when he realized he was going off on his own - or, rather, would be free of his senior officer for a few days. How in the past Ramage himself had prayed for such orders, and luckily Lacey had grasped the need to obey them implicitly. If there was any sign that La Perle was trying to make for anywhere but the agreed stretch of the Main, he was to warn her by firing a shot across her bow, and, if that was not sufficient, he was at once to rake her with broadsides until she obeyed or was a wreck.
On the other hand, if she was obviously going to sink before reaching the Main, Lacey could leave them two of his own boats because the frigate had more men than her own four boats could carry. Aitken had already made sure that two of La Perle's boats had compasses. None had water, though; the breakers were left in them, but the French master had been warned that they were empty and, in any emergency, would first need filling.
Once again Ramage looked at his watch. The two frigates had drifted well to the west of Curacao now, and there was half an hour to go before La Perle would be cast off. Now was the time to give Duroc his instructions, and to spring the final (and, he admitted, quite malicio
us) surprise on Citizen Bazin.
He went to his cabin after passing the word that Duroc was to be brought up, but without the other prisoners seeing him. At the moment the Frenchman knew absolutely nothing, other than what he could have guessed from the evidence of his own ears. Ramage had not been down to talk to him; the Marine sentries guarding him in Aitken's cabin had been warned to say nothing, in case Duroc could in fact speak English. Bazin and the other lieutenants did not know he was there; they knew nothing of him.
The man brought into Ramage's cabin by two Marines was a shrunken version of the burly braggart sent below under guard before La Perle was captured. The dim light of the lantern emphasized the deep lines of worry, marking his face like crevices in a cliff, and he was licking his lips nervously like someone caricaturing a nervous man. His shoulders were hunched, as if unconsciously hiding his neck from a guillotine blade.
Ramage kept him standing so that the man had to cock his head to one side.
'Ah, Captain Duroc, you know what has happened to your ship?'
'You captured her. I hear her alongside. And the pumps, I hear them working.'
Ramage nodded. 'Your men are still on board her. The five who were wounded have been treated and put back on board - their wounds were slight' 'Five? How many dead?' 'None.'
'And now, sir?' Duroc's eyes revealed his fears of what would happen when the French Ministry of Marine in Paris heard those figures. The captain not on board, no one killed, the ship lost to the enemy - it could only mean treason to minds so accustomed to finding or manufacturing it.
Ramage handed him the chart which Southwick had drawn. 'Sit down there, on that settee. You can read the chart - there is enough light? Good. Now, you know your ship is sinking?' Duroc nodded miserably.
'But you are confident your pumps can keep up with the leaks?'
Again Duroc nodded. 'Yes, but if they get worse . . .' 'Quite, you risk the leaks getting worse, and your men are becoming exhausted. That was why you were making for Curasao, to careen her?'
Duroc nodded for the third time, studying the chart 'Your destination is now changed. You will be put back on board your ship in a few minutes, and you will have that chart, and water for all your men for two days. There is no powder, the guns are spiked, and my schooner will escort you to Spanish waters.'
Duroc looked up at him, accepting the situation but obviously assuming some trap. 'We shall not be prisoners, then?'
'Only of yourselves and your ship. For two days the leaks and the pumps will be your guards.' The Frenchman used his fingers to measure distances. 'One day, perhaps two,' he said, almost to himself. 'Yes, that is good. But 'Have you any questions?'
'Yes, M'sieur. Why are you freeing us?'
'I don't want three hundred prisoners,' Ramage said frankly. 'I have orders from my admiral and I need all my men.'
Duroc made no secret of his relief: he believed the answer, perhaps because it was a logical one, and said: 'I do not know your name, M'sieur. You are being very fair to us. I would like to know to whom I am indebted.'
The Frenchman had spoken very formally and was obviously sincere. Ramage remembered Bazin and said casually, giving his name the English pronunciation: 'Nicholas Ramage, capi-taine de vaisseau.' Duroc nodded and repeated the name. Suddenly he looked up, wide - eyed. 'Lord Ramage?'
Ramage nodded.
'Merde! Then this is a trap!'
The change was so sudden Ramage was unsure whether to be flattered or insulted. 'What do you mean, a trap?'
Clearly Duroc was now a very frightened man; he was folding and refolding the chart like a nun "with a rosary. 'Well, you - why, it is well known that ..."
That what?'
'I don't know,' Duroc admitted lamely. 'But capturing that convoy off Martinique, and the frigates . . .'
'I could of course smash La Perle's chain pump, stave in all the boats, and cast you adrift. The ship would sink and you'd all drown in - half an hour?'
'Less. And I cannot swim.'
'But instead I have left you water and boats, given you a chart so that you can sail to safety, and provided an escort This "trap" has a strange bait, Captain Duroc. I wonder if you would be as generous if our positions were reversed?'
'No, forgive me,' Duroc said. 'I spoke hastily. It was the shock of finding out who you are. You have a certain - well, a certain reputation.'
'Not for cruelty, I trust.'
'Oh no I Nothing to your discredit, milord.'
Ramage waved to one of the sentries. 'Fetch the French officer called Bazin.'
He sat down at his desk and turned the chair so that he could see the door, telling the Marine sentry: Take this prisoner into the coach, and keep him there until I call you. You won't need a lantern; just keep your cutlass pressing against his shoulder blades.' He then explained to Duroc that he would have to wait in the next cabin.
Bazin, in contrast to Duroc, had regained some of his courage or, Ramage thought, more likely he had been goaded by the other two lieutenants into truculent belligerency.
'Sit down,' Ramage told him. The time has come for us to say farewell.'
'I expected nothing more,' Bazin sneered.
'Nothing more than what?'
'You haven't shot us; I presume you will now throw us over the side.'
'Yes,' Ramage could not resist saying, 'you are all going over the side in a few minutes.'
'Ha! I knew from the first you were an assassin]' Tell me, how did you discover that?'
The way you murdered Captain Duroc.'
'Oh, that!' Ramage said in an offhand voice, suspecting that the Frenchman in the next cabin would be amused. 'What else did you expect? Surely such a man does not deserve to live?'
That may be so,' Bazin exclaimed angrily, 'but who are you to kill him?'
Ramage shrugged his shoulders. He was not a true republican.'
'I know that well enough,' Bazin said as he half rose but sank back when he saw the Marine's cutlass. 'But that is no reason for you, an aristo, to murder us.'
'But why should I murder him but spare you?' Ramage enquired mildly.
'Because . . . well, because . . . what I mean is, you should not murder me because I am a true republican; I believe in the freedom and equality of man. But Duroc - he was an opportuniste. He was a bosun before the Revolution. He joined the Revolution only to get promotion!'
Ramage took out his watch and inspected it Ten minutes before midnight, citoyen. For us,' and he could not resist putting a slight emphasis on 'us', 'the new day is about to begin.'
He called to the sentry in the other cabin, and a minute later Duroc stamped through the door. Bazin leapt to his feet like a rocket, white - faced, crashed his head against the beam, and fell flat at Duroc's feet. The French captain looked across at Ramage, a grin on his face. 'He knows all about revolutions. By dawn he'll know all about working a chain pump, too. You have a droll sense of humour, milord, but it brings out the truth at times.'
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Amsterdam's houses were painted in gay colours which the glaring sun emphasized without making them garish. The owners on the Punda side obviously preferred pinks and light blues while Otrabanda favoured reds, greens and white, but most of the roofs, steeply pitched and gabled in the Dutch style, had red tiles, in contrast to the wooden shingles favoured in the British islands. It was curious about the colour preferences but, Ramage thought, the explanation was probably mundane: the paint shop on one side stocked some colours; its rival the others.
The channel separating the two halves of the town was stained brown as it joined Sint Anna Baai, probably due to the slight rise and fall of tide draining out some of the water as it ebbed from the Schottegat, the inland lake.
The fort on Punda, Waterfort, seemed quiet enough; nor was there any sign of movement at Riffort on Otrabanda, 'the other side'. The Dutch flags were flying from flagpoles on both forts; it was also flying from the building that Ramage assumed was Government House.
Amsterd
am, Ramage decided, was an oddly attractive and typically Dutch town set down on an arid and desolate island whose sole function was to be the main Dutch trading post in the Caribbean. The Dutch had done their best to make the town look cheerful and they had succeeded. If you forgot the heat and the bright glare, Amsterdam could be any town built along a canal in the Netherlands. Certainly the general flatness of the island (if one did not look to the west as the hills began and rolled up to Sint Christoffelberg) made you think that the average Dutchman was only happy on flat land, although from seaward small hills gave the appearance of waves in a choppy sea.
The privateers were at anchor just at the entrance to Schottegat and still had the laid - up - out - of - commission look about them. He had only a fleeting glance of them through the telescope as the Calypso tacked in towards the shore, but it was enough to show him that nothing had changed since they had passed on their way to the west end of the island.
Aitken shut his telescope with a snap. That fresh lot of smoke near Willebrordus puzzles me, sir. I'm sure it's from burning buildings. Black smoke with the white. If it was just scrub and grass burning, it would be white.'
'And I'm sure I could hear gunfire,' Wagstaffe said. No one else had heard it, but they had been almost to leeward of the smoke at the time and Ramage was quite prepared to believe the second lieutenant. Rennick, in his usual impulsive way, had wanted to be landed in Bullen Bay with a platoon of Marines to investigate, but as Ramage pointed out, gunfire and smoke in Curacao was the concern of the Dutch Governor, and the Dutch, like the French and Spanish, were the enemy . . . Fire could only mean the destruction of bush and cactus, a few scraggy divi-divi trees, aloes and agaves, and perhaps some plantation houses (not many because there were few plantations). The goats and iguana would bolt, the wild doves would take off for quieter comers of the island, and the fire would eventually burn out.
The Calypso, under topsails alone in a fifteen - knot breeze that occasionally whipped up small white caps in sudden gusts, was steering north - west towards Piscadera Baai as Ramage looked up the channel into the Schottegat. But so far the only reaction to the frigate's presence in this part of the Caribbean seemed to be fish leaping away from her stem, like dogs dodging a careering carriage, and swarms of flying fish coming up out of the water like small silver arrows without making a ripple, then skimming above the waves for scores of yards and suddenly vanishing without the tiniest splash. The frigate birds, broad - winged with thin bodies, black and white, graceful in flight (yet to Ramage always ugly and menacing), swooped down on the flying fish, showing a fantastic skill in flying but attacked by the tiny laughing gulls. The chubbier boobies flew low, and often rested on the water like old ladies sitting in a market selling their wares, beady eyes alert, or dived for a fish. Very occasionally half a dozen dolphins played under the Calypso's bow, swimming at enormous speeds and crossing ahead of her so close it seemed they must be hit by the cutwater. The cry of 'Dolphins' usually sent the off - watch men running to the bowsprit and jibboom, from where they would 'ooooh!' and 'aaaah!' until the dolphins vanished as quickly as they arrived.
