"But what if they do see the flames or smoke?" Yorke argued. "They won't get anything because the ship will be destroyed."
"It'll tell them we're here."
"They'll know anyway: they'll see the wrecks."
"They'll see the wrecks," Ramage said patiently, "but at a distance they might well mistake them for cays or rocks. Don't forget, they won't be looking for wrecks."
"But supposing they do see them?"
"If they find two dismasted wrecks with no one on board, they'll probably guess it was the result of the hurricane and think the survivors were taken off at sea by other ships, leaving the wrecks to drift on to the reef. They'll probably pillage what they can and go happily on their way. But if they find the wrecks burned, they'll know people were here after the ships hit the reef; people who lit the match. They'll start searching the island - and they'll know they have two complete ships' companies to find."
"You're quite right," Yorke admitted.
"For the time being, my main concern is to keep us all out of the hands of the Spaniards: their jails are a little primitive."
"Agreed," Yorke said. "By the way, to avoid any embarrassment or misunderstanding - how do you want to deal with my men?"
"We may have to think in terms of weeks, or even months, on shore here," Ramage said tactfully.
"That's why I'm asking the question."
"Have you any doubts about them?"
"Yes," Yorke said frankly. "They're merchant seamen; I can't beat them on the head with the Articles of War."
"What do you suggest?" Ramage asked cautiously. He knew what would be best, but he wanted Yorke to mention it.
"Press 'em," Yorke said succinctly. "Put 'em down on the Triton's muster roll. Twenty-eight more men to serve the King."
"You're sure about the mates?"
"Very sure: there's several months' pay due to them, so I've bought those two!"
"Fine," Ramage said. "I'd better press the men before I abandon the Triton officially. I haven't the faintest idea what the regulations are, but I think that's when the Triton ceases to exist."
"Look," Yorke said, his tone of voice indicating the seriousness of what he was going to say, "have you really thought about not burning the Triton and Topaz?”
Ramage nodded without saying anything.
"But you're taking a big risk, aren't you? You personally, I mean. When you face a court of inquiry, couldn't they claim you 'didn't do your utmost' to prevent your ship falling into enemy hands? I mean, they could claim the Dons could tow the wrecks off the reef and refit them."
"They could, and probably will. But the only way of destroying the ships is by setting them on fire. And that would probably lead to our being discovered by the Spaniards. Not us so much as the St Brieucs."
"You save them from capture only at the risk of your neck in fact," Yorke said.
"That's putting a melodramatic interpretation on it. There's no choice."
"They'll never agree to it."
"They've no say in the matter," Ramage said flatly and, since what had to be made clear could be said now without too much embarrassment, he added: "You're forgetting I'm in command."
"No I'm not," Yorke said amiably. "I've even brought my dress sword to wear when you are enthroned as Governor of Snake Island. It's just that I'm not forgetting Admiral Goddard's interest in your welfare."
"I appreciate that," Ramage said, "but he's in the happy position - if he's not drowned - of having me at his mercy whether I fire the ships or not! I can be damned if I do and damned if I don't, so that leaves me a completely free hand!"
Yorke laughed and then said quietly: "Whatever you decide, I'll back you with everything I've got. Everything."
An hour later, after Yorke had spoken to them all, the men of the Topaz were entered in the Triton's muster book and credited with the bounty paid to volunteers. They'll probably be better off on Snake Island than if actually serving in one of the King's ships, Ramage thought to himself. Surprisingly, the Topaz men had been cheerful at the idea of joining the Royal Navy, as if they thought it would cloak them with its authority and protect them if they were taken prisoner.
Ramage inspected the Marines in the darkness using a lantern, and made sure their muskets and powder supply were well protected from spray and that each had a paddle. Then he gave Appleby instructions to make the best of his way to the eastern side of the island, which could be seen as a black smudge. The minute he landed he was to secure the raft and have the Marines find the best defensive place nearby and occupy it, taking up the powder and shot.
As soon as they were sure they had not been spotted, they could sleep for the rest of the night, leaving two sentries on duty. And next morning at dawn, when he saw the rafts ready to leave the Triton, Appleby was to drape strips of canvas over bushes to indicate where he was. It was all so simple Ramage was afraid there would be some hitch.
In the meantime his steward had been busy preparing Ramage's cabin for the St Brieuc family. This had entailed slinging two extra cots from the beams overhead. Appleby provided one; Southwick gave the other.
As Ramage gave orders for a hammock to be slung for him on deck, from the taffrail to the bulwark, he looked up at the sky to the eastward. He could see all the stars; for the moment the weather looked settled. There was just a breeze, and the waves were normal; there was no swell. But this was the Tropics; the weather could - and often did - change within an hour. Still, long before dawn the remaining rafts would be launched and, with the men, passengers and provisions on board, would follow Appleby to whatever Snake Island had to offer.
Chapter Twelve
Yorke had quietly prepared the St Brieucs, St Cast and Southwick for the landing: as the low waves curled and sucked, drifting the raft the last few yards and nudging it towards the beach, the young drummer, at a word from the Master, suddenly stood to attention and then played a ruffle.
Ramage jumped up, startled. At the back of the beach the Marines waited, and Appleby was at the water's edge.
In the silence that followed, as the raft came to a stop and several seamen leapt into the water to secure it, helped by some of Appleby's men, Southwick bellowed: "Drummer - the Governor's Salute!"
The little drummer, a look of intense concentration on his face, shy but proud of being the centre of attention, marched a few paces across the raft, turned and marched back, playing a spirited tune on his drum amid many twirls and flourishes of the drumsticks. Yorke, Southwick and the two Frenchmen now stood to attention and saluted, broad grins on their faces.
As soon as the raft was secured, Southwick roared to a startled Appleby: "Stand by: the Governor is landing! Why aren't your Marines presenting arms?"
The Master's mate quickly caught on and shouted an order to the Marines, then ran back up the beach and seized a short, thick branch of a tree which had been worn smooth and polished by wind, sea and sand. He marched back to the raft and, with the branch over his shoulder as a mace, stood at attention.
Southwick walked three paces to stand in front of Ramage, saluted again, and said in a stentorian voice: "Sir, your island awaits..."