Southwick nodded, and then said seriously: ‘I’ve been thinking over that business about taking possession of an island, sir, and apart from "by right of discovery" I can't remember hearing of a procedure. There must have been some ceremony when we captured Martinique, for instance, though that was with a fleet and an army. Pity we ever gave it back again,' he added crossly. 'Just look at the trouble it causes us. All those politicians ever think of is getting a cheer in Parliament. Never consider the lives these damned spice islands cost to capture in the first place, let alone the men killed in recapturing them ...'
The gun was slowly moving upwards, still hanging horizontally in the slings, and the men at the capstan had settled into a steady rhythm. Lacey was watching, changing them occasionally. One man was sent below to the Surgeon, his face white, and obviously a victim of heat stroke.
The Créole was coming into sight again and a quick look through the telescope showed that she was not flying any signals. 'Just the time for the French to round Point des Salines,' Southwick said with an irritating cheerfulness.
Ramage, who had been thinking of that for the past few hours, glowered at him. 'That reminds me, I don't see any axes ready in case we have to cut something adrift in a hurry . . .'
'No, sir,' Southwick said hurriedly, 'I'll see to it at once.'
It took four and a half hours for the gun to reach the top of the cliff and, lying on his back, Ramage watched with his telescope. Aitken and his men had hooked tackles into the slings, taking the weight of the gun and holding it at the top of the cliff ready to start parbuckling it the rest of the way to the top.
Now he could see that the voyol block and the gun tackle were swinging clear. There should be no difficulty in getting the gun tackle block down again this time: there was the weight of the voyol block, and the rope of the tackle was well stretched. Indeed, as the men in the Juno eased away on the fall so it came down, Ramage stood up to see Southwick supervising men securing slings under the carriage.
With two hours to sunset there was time to get the carriage up since it weighed only three hundredweight, but that would mean Aitken and his men finding their way down again in the darkness.
He called to Lacey and told him to get the cooper to find the largest tub on board. ‘I want to fill it with bedding and provisions and send it up with the carriage. Mr Aitken and his men can spend the night up there. They'll prefer that to climbing down tonight and up again tomorrow.'
Noticing Lacey's hesitation Ramage looked questioningly. 'I'm sorry, sir,' the young lieutenant said, 'I was hoping I'd be able to go up tomorrow.'
Ramage tapped him on the shoulder. ‘Your turn will come. Now you know how to rig a jackstay, your job for tomorrow will be rigging one from near the Marchesa battery to the ledge half-way up the Rock and mounting a gun there. I propose landing you and twenty men at the battery with cable, tackles, a 12-pounder and carriage, and I'd like to hear you fire a round by sunset.'
'Thank you sir!' Lacey exclaimed with an enthusiasm that startled Ramage, and hurried off to find the cooper. Ramage shrugged his shoulders and began pacing the quarterdeck. He was lucky to have lieutenants who, after watching today's performance, were almost pathetically grateful to be allowed to rig a jackstay on land, without any help from a capstan.
Ramage went below and scribbled a note to Aitken to be sent up in the tub. He told the First Lieutenant that the carriage and tub were being sent up now so that if there was bad weather tomorrow and the Juno had to cast off the jackstay, Aitken would have a complete gun aloft. If there was time before darkness, he added, the tub would be sent up again with powder, shot and the rest of the gear. He paused a moment, wondering whether to add a line of congratulation, but decided against it: he preferred thanking a man to his face.
By nightfall the carriage was on top of the cliff and the tub had made a second trip up the jackstay with the powder, shot, rammer, sponge, handspikes, three spars to make sheers, and a cask of water. It came down again with a pencilled report from Aitken written on the back of Ramage's letter. The news it contained was good. The 12-pounder had been parbuckled to the peak and the carriage hauled to the top while the tub was coming up for the second time. At the time of writing the sheers were being rigged and the gun would be hoisted up on to its carriage and ready to open fire by dawn.
Ramage had folded the note, put it in his pocket and forgotten about it by the time he went down to bed. He had taken the first watch and then handed over to Southwick. He slept soundly, even though he knew that there were only half a dozen seamen and the officer of the deck on watch. In an emergency the rest of the men would come swarming up in a matter of moments. In any case he had given permission for them to sleep on deck if they wished, to take advantage of the cool night breeze, so some would probably be there already. Everyone was exhausted and he wanted all of them to get as much rest as possible, so they would be ready to hoist the second gun and its carriage next day. He also wanted to send the tub up as many times as he could, carrying extra powder, shot, provisions and water. He shuddered at the thought of the alternative, men climbing up what must be sheer rock in places, hoisting sacks and casks . . .
He was just climbing up the companionway at dawn the next morning when there was a heavy boom above and a moment later Southwick was bellowing for the men to go to quarters. Then Ramage remembered the pencilled note from Aitken in his pocket: the First Lieutenant had kept his word. 'Belay all that!' he called to the Master, 'that was Aitken firing the first round from the Juno battery!'
'I've just realized that,' the Master said ruefully, pointing to smoke drifting away from the clifftop. 'He might have warned us!'
'He did,' Ramage said, 'he wrote me a note but I forgot to pass the word.'
'Well, sir, we're ready to start hoisting the next gun,' Southwick said stiffly, 'and the purser is attending to the provisions to go up in the tub. A month for fourteen men, you said, sir.’
'Yes, but we'll make it three months if we have the time: it's the quickest way of getting it all on shore. I want to let go of the jackstay and get clear of here by nightfall. If we can get three months' supplies by then, so much the better. Warn the purser, so he can get them on deck ready. Lacey can go on shore now to start on the other battery.'
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
At noon next day a weary but exultant Ramage stood between the two guns of the Juno battery, 570 feet up on top of Diamond Rock. The sun was almost directly overhead, the sea a deep blue and stippled by waves. The headland formed by Diamond Hill, across the Fours Channel, seemed near enough to touch.
Below him the Juno rode at anchor with the Surcouf nearby. Wagstaffe was rounding the Rock in La Créole, obviously anxious to know what progress had been made. From the schooner's deck Wagstaffe should be able to see the Junos standing at the edge of the battery, even if he could not make out the barrels of the guns which were now pointing towards the headland.
Ramage turned to the north-westward where, in the distance beyond many other peaks, he could see the flattened top of Mont Pelée. Then he looked south-eastward towards Pointe des Salines, at the southern end of Martinique. Still no sign of the French convoy nor of Admiral Davis and the Invincible but, more worrying, still no sign of La Mutine returning. Perhaps the Admiral had held on to Baker, but that seemed unlikely, and anyway it did not explain why the Invincible had not arrived. Today was Friday and Baker had left on Monday. He had been trying to avoid the thought for the past twenty-four hours, but there was only one sensible answer: something had happened to Baker. For one reason or another La Mutine had not arrived in Barbados, and so the Admiral had not received the warning that the convoy was due.