Ramage and the drum beat r-2 Page 7

  When Southwick saluted Ramage, Marmion turned in surprise and exclaimed involuntarily, 'You are the captain?'

  Ramage nodded since there was no further need to pretend he did not speak Spanish, and said,

  'Yes, I am in command. You surrender your sword to me.'

  The hard note in his voice left no doubt that it was an order and Marmion gave it to Ramage, who accepted it without comment and passed it to Jackson as if it was dirty.

  Although Ramage felt contempt for the Spaniard because he had made no attempt to brazen it out and had accepted all the terms, he was wary. Those little watery, shifty eyes ... He wished he hadn't left Marmion and Pareja alone while he inspected the frigate.

  Southwick, although still standing to attention, showed by his attitude and expression that he still did not know exactly what was happening, and Ramage said,

  'This gentleman is the captain of the frigate. He is a prisoner. Detail two men to guard him. Rig up screens to make him some sort of cabin, and get a cot slung. Now, all the Spanish ship's company are prisoners on parole. They've given their word to obey my orders - which are to haul in and secure the cable, and then do all they can to safeguard the tow. They were impressed with the explosion ...'

  Ramage broke off because the Spaniard's eyes were popping. He was staring at Gianna, who had just emerged from the companionway. Ramage guessed it wouldn't hurt to create a bit of a mystery and ignored her.

  'Take the boat and pass the cable,' he continued. 'The frigate's first lieutenant speaks very good English. And make sure they have lights ready. At night they're to burn three white lights, one on either bow and the third on the centre line amidships but high, so we can always see how they are heading. Is that quite clear?'

  'Aye aye, sir,' Southwick said and added with a grin, 'Shall I take our colours over, and hoist 'em over the Spanish?'

  Ramage laughed. He had forgotten all about that. 'Yes, but you'll need something to rig 'em on - they've nothing longer than a boarding pike left!'

  With that Southwick turned away and began giving his orders.

  'Thirsty work, sir,' Jackson commented.

  Ramage eyed him. 'Yes - for me. I've been doing all the talking. Tell my steward to bring me some lemon juice and water.'

  Jackson looked crestfallen and Ramage relented. The capture of a frigate was worth an extra tot for all the men. 'Remind me again at supper time how thirsty you are.'

  'Very good sir. You can rely on me.'

  Two seamen with cutlasses left Southwick and came over to Ramage, who said: 'As soon as his cabin is prepared, the Spanish gentleman is to be taken below, under guard. For the time being keep him forward of the mast.'

  As seamen lowered into the boat the messenger, the light line which would haul across the heavy cable, Ramage walked over to Gianna, who was talking to Antonio.

  Her eyes were bright with excitement she was finding hard to control

  'Nico - who is that funny man?'

  'The captain of the Spanish frigate.'

  'But why did you bring him over here?'

  'He is our prisoner - a hostage, in fact.'

  'But how can you control all those men in the frigate?' Antonio asked. 'Why, there are hundreds of them. Mr. Souswick let me look with the telescope.'

  Ramage shrugged his shoulders. 'We have to continue to bluff."

  Antonio said eagerly, tugging his beard, 'Nico - let me take a dozen men over to the ship. I'll make sure they behave!'

  Ramage shook his head. 'But for one thing, I'd have asked you to do that.'

  'What is the one thing?'

  'Antonio - you and Gianna are the reason for theKathleen going to Gibraltar. You're in my care. If anything happened to you...'

  'You and your orders,' Antonio said gloomily. 'It's hardly worth having escaped from Italy.'

  'Antonio!' exclaimed Gianna. 'After all Nico has done for us!'

  'No,' Antonio said hastily, 'no, I didn't mean it like that. You know I'm grateful, Nico; but those Spaniards - they're worse than the French. They've only come into the war because they think the French will win.'

  'A successful man has many friends,' Ramage said wryly. 'But a failure is very lonely.'

  Southwick came up and saluted. ' 'Scuse me, sir. All ready. I'm just going off in the boat.'

  ‘Very well. Don't stand any nonsense over there. Make 'em jump about, flagship style.'

  Ramage silently cursed the frigate towing astern and then realized it was as stupid as cursing fame and riches because they led innkeepers to double your bill. But the sun dropping over the horizon took most of the wind with it and now, with the sky changing from purplish-mauve to the chilly and impersonal grey of dusk, the cutter was making barely two knots. He had four men at the helm to counteract the drag on the Kathleen's stern from La Sabina'soccasional sheer one way or the other.

  Gianna and Antonio were standing at the taffrail with him, and Gianna shivered. 'I never like this time of the day and it's always worse if there's anything worrying you, because it's cold and grey.'

  Antonio asked, 'What's worrying you?'

  'Oh, nothing really - except that great thing,' she said, pointing at the frigate. 'I have a premonition ...'

  'Of what?' asked Ramage.

  'That ... it's silly, Nico, but I feel she will bring bad luck.'

  Ramage laughed. 'You must ward off the Evil Eye for us, then!'

  'Don't make jokes about the Evil Eye, Nico ...'

  'Then don't be so serious. I noticed our Spanish friend couldn't keep his evil eyes off you!'

  'He makes me feel unclean, the way he looks at me,' she shuddered. 'I don't trust him.'

  'I should think not,' Ramage said. 'Nor do I. That's why two seamen are guarding him. After all, he is our enemy!'

  'An enemy,' she mused, 'that fat man down there ...'

  Antonio said coldly, That fat man down there would strangle you slowly - and everyone else too - if it would get him his ship back.'

  'I'm feeling cold,' Gianna said. 'I am going to bed.'

  Ramage and Antonio kissed her hand, and she called goodnight to 'Mr. Souswick', who gave his customary bow.

  When she had gone down below, Antonio asked, 'Do you expect trouble?'

  'Well, I can't see what they can do - apart from cast off the tow. That wouldn't help them because we'd obviously wait until daylight and sink 'em.'

  'But do you - how do you say - do you "have a feeling"?'

  'Yes - probably just a reaction from the excitement.'

  'I expect so,' Antonio said. 'Well I'm tired, too, so -buona notte, Nico. This has been a day to remember!'

  A few minutes later Ramage suddenly felt weary too and decided to get some sleep in case he was called frequently during the night.

  'Mr. Southwick, I'm going below for a couple of hours. Observe the usual night orders. If there's anything suspicious - even the faintest hint - call me. And issue pistols and muskets to the steadiest men, and cutlasses, pikes and tomahawks to the rest'

  Ten minutes later Ramage was sprawled fully dressed in his cot in a deep sleep, his two pistols, both at half cock, tucked against the canvas sides.

  Jackson had been tired, but as darkness came down an indefinable uneasiness drove away all thoughts of sleep. He watched idly as the Master walked round the deck, speaking briefly to the lookouts amidships and on either bow. The old boy was thorough - at each of the carronades, which had been left run out, he checked the tackles and breeching and made sure the canvas apron covering the lock was secure so the damp night air should not get at the flint. As he came aft he saw the American.

  'Well Jackson, a busy day.'

  'Aye, sir, and likely to be a busy night, too.'

  'You think the Dons'll try something, eh?'

  'Well, we would if we were them!'

  'Quite so, but that's the difference. Looked a pretty sheepish bunch when I was on board.'

  'Hope you're right, sir. Still, if they started something...'

  Southwic
k's grunt indicated he thought the possibility remote, and then he said, 'By the way, Jackson, are you really American?'

  'Yes, sir.'

  'When were you born?'

  'Not sure of the exact date, sir,' Jackson said warily.

  'Born English, tho', I'll warrant; before ‘74, when all you folk revolted!'

  'Maybe sir. But I'm American now, for all that.'

  'You've got a Protection?' Southwick's voice was flat, as though he was stating rather than asking, and Jackson said slowly 'Yes sir. I've got a duly attested Protection.'

  'Why haven't you used it, then?'

  Jackson shifted from one foot to another. The Master's persistent questioning didn't anger him. Most people were curious, which wasn't surprising since the Protection, signed by J. W. Keefe, Notary Public and one of the Justices for the City and County of New York, certified that Thomas Jackson, Mariner, had been sworn according to law, deposed he was a citizen of the United States and a native of the State of South Carolina, five feet ten inches high and aged about thirty-seven ...

  Mr. Keefe further certified that the said Thomas Jackson, being a Citizen of the United States of America and liable to be called in the Service of his Country, is to be respected accordingly at all times by Sea and Land. Whereof an attestation being required, I have granted this under my Notarial Firm and Seal.

  That piece of paper, headed by the American Eagle with United States of America in bold type beneath it, meant he could not be forced to serve His Britannic Majesty and, like anyone else possessing one, could get his discharge any time he liked - any time, rather, he could get in touch with an American Consul.

  What was more, unlike many in circulation, the Protection was genuine. But Jackson tried to imagine the Master's reaction if he knew he also had another genuine one, attested and signed by a notary but with the spaces for the name and details left blank. It had cost ten dollars - and was worth twenty times as much.

  'Well, sir,' Jackson said, after an appreciable pause, 'my own country's at peace, but I don't like missing a good scrap.'

  'So you've decided to give us a hand,' Southwick said with a chuckle, and his last doubts about the American disappeared. He'd never questioned Jackson's loyalty - from all accounts he'd saved the lives of Mr. Ramage and the lad and both were obviously very fond of him - but nevertheless Jackson was a Jonathan, and he couldn't forget many American merchants and shipowners were making their fortunes trading with the French.

  Southwick's attitude to the rest of the world was uncomplicated and uncompromising: in war, those who were not openly his friends were his enemies. Neutrals were at best a nuisance, always pettifogging about their rights, and at worst a conniving bunch of crooks selling their wares to the highest bidder without regard to the consequences.

  Jackson, sensing Southwick was lost in his own thoughts, excused himself and picked up the night glass.

  Balancing himself at the taffrail against the Kathleen's uneven roll, he had a long and careful look at the frigate towing astern, blinked his eye to make sure he wasn't mistaken, had another look and hurried over to where the Master was standing.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Southwick jumped down the last three steps of the companionway, snatched the sentry's lantern while hissing at him to make no noise, and ducked his head as he hurried into Ramage's temporary cabin.

  'Captain, sir!' he whispered as he shook the cot, and Ramage woke in an instant. Southwick's face, heavily shadowed by the lantern's glow, warned him of danger.

  'What is it?'

  'The Spaniards, sir. They've got their boat and are rowing towards us, keeping close along the cable.'

  'Many in the boat?' Ramage asked as he scrambled out of his cot.

  'Seems packed.'

  Ramage pulled on his boots, flipping back the little strap over the sheath in the right one to expose the throwing knife.

  'They'll row to within twenty yards then swarm up the cable to board us.'

  'S'what I thought, sir.'

  Ramage picked up his pistols, tucked them in his belt and sat on the swinging cot for a full minute. Then he gave Southwick a string of orders.

  'Wake the Count and send him up to me. Tell the Marchesa she's to transfer to this cabin - it'll be dangerous for her with that skylight overhead. Tell the sentries on the Spanish captain's door to lay him out with the flat of a sword if he shouts. Then rouse the watch below. I want all of them waiting at the bottom of the companionway. They're to seize and secure anyone who's thrown down. No pistols or muskets to be fired - I want absolute silence the whole time. Understand? Absolute silence from everyone.'

  'Aye aye, sir.'

  Southwick hurried off forward and Ramage made his way up the companionway. Only a few patches of stars were showing; high clouds hid the rest.

  'Who's here?' Ramage hissed. 'Keep your voices down.'

  'Quartermaster, Jackson, and twelve men, sir: four at the tiller, four lookouts, three topmen and the man watching the cable.'

  'Right, keep quiet, behave as though you haven't seen anything. Topmen - get forward and stay there for the time being.'

  Ramage knelt down and peered through the stern-chase port. He could just make out the boat about forty yards astern. It had twenty or so yards to go before reaching the point where the sagging cable came up out of the water in a gentle curve to the Kathleen's starboard stern-chase port. A gentle curve which would be an easy hand-over-hand climb for nimble seamen.

  Jackson appeared in the darkness beside him and after Ramage whispered orders disappeared down the companionway.

  Ramage then told the quartermaster and the other men at the tiller: 'No matter what happens around you, don't leave the helm. Keep the ship on course - that's your only concern.'

  The man who had been watching the cable was told to warn the lookouts forward and the topmen to disregard anything that happened aft unless they received direct orders.

  Jackson came back with Antonio, Southwick, Appleby, the master's mate, and Evans, the bosun's mate. While Jackson went off to collect some belaying pins, Ramage looked at the boat again with the night glass.

  The Spaniards were holding on to the cable where it stayed a steady three or four feet above the surface, apart from an occasional wave crest which reached up to touch it. The Spaniards would not risk using pistols - there would be misfires due to wet priming.

  'Ah, Jackson,' he whispered, 'give us all one.'

  Each took a belaying pin and Antonio, who had never held one before, tried it for balance, giving some imaginary blows. Then Ramage whispered his orders to the group of men.

  'They'll crawl up the cable, so they'll have to come in through this stern-chase port. You can see it's only just large enough for a man. We'll knock them out one by one as they come on board - but without the next astern on the cable knowing. So no noise. One man bangs him smartly on the head and catches him and the next hauls him to one side out of the way and tips him down the companionway. No mistakes though - one bang has to do the job. Understood?'

  The men whispered agreement.

  'Antonio,' Ramage said, 'your Spanish is good?'

  'Reasonably so.'

  'Well, in case I'm - er, busy, or anything - we've got to find out the signal these men are supposed to make to the frigate when they've captured us. So as soon as you can, get hold of one of them below and make him tell you. I'll try to get it out of the last one as well. Now, into position!'

  With the exception of Southwick, they all crept to the taffrail, bent double, and grouped themselves on either side of the port.

  The Master began carrying out Ramage's orders, calling in a loud voice, 'Forward lookouts - anything to report from ahead?'

  'Nothin' to larboard sir,' came back one voice, followed by 'Nuthin' to starboard, neither, sir.'

  'Very well. Keep a sharp lookout'

  The normal hails made every ten or fifteen minutes; nothing to indicate to the Spaniards that they had been spotted.

  'How are you hea
ding, quartermaster,' Southwick asked in a quieter conversational voice.

  'Due west, sir.'

  'Very well.'

  Ramage glanced out of the port. The thick cable now had men swarming along it, like monkeys on the bough of a tree. The nearest man was fifteen yards away.

  'Mr. Southwick,' he whispered, 'show yourself above the taffrail. Just glance over the stern but don't stare at the Dons. When you know they've seen you, just walk about as though you haven't seen them.'

  As soon as Southwick began pacing the deck again, his orders completed, Ramage whispered, 'Ask the lookouts how the headsails are setting.'

  The Master hailed, and a puzzled lookout answered they were setting well enough. Again the normal shouts and replies which would reassure the Spaniards that they hadn't been spotted - and perhaps make them over-confident.

  'Quartermaster,' hissed Ramage, 'luff up for a moment so your leeches flutter. Mr. Southwick, curse him as soon as they do.'

  The tiller creaked and from ahead the headsails flapped, while overhead the mainboom swung inboard a foot as the pressure of the wind eased, and then went back with a bang.

  Southwick swore violently and Ramage peered through the port. The Spaniards hanging under the cable had stopped crawling, but as he watched they began again. The flap of sails and the resultant cursing from the officer of the watch was an international language.

  Fifteen feet to go. Ramage saw the dull gleam of metal in the darkness - a knife or cutlass. Each Spaniard would have to sit astride the cable for a moment and grasp the edge of the port before coming through because it was only just a little wider than his shoulders, partly blocked by the cable itself and the rope keckling wrapped round it to prevent chafe.

  Ramage indicated to Jackson that he would deal with the first man but the American must catch the body as it fell. Southwick was standing still, and Ramage whispered, 'Mr. Southwick, walk around a few paces, then stand a couple of yards ahead of this port and act as the live bait.'

  Ramage saw the first Spaniard was a slim, agile man, climbing easily and being careful not to get out of breath.