At that moment Aitken realized that it was not play-acting: he saw Ramage looking down at the chart and guessed that he had long ago weighed up all the prospects. If the Captain could still laugh and joke after that, then he had every right to expect his First Lieutenant to be cheerful as well. Southwick must have been born with a grin on that chubby red face of his, and with an irreverent attitude towards just about anything that other men took seriously - including going into battle and getting killed.
Southwick jabbed at the chart, running his finger along until it reached the eastern end of the lagoon, near where the Jocasta was moored. "Perhaps we could land men farther up the coast and let 'em attack overland."
"If they didn't break their necks falling over precipices on the way. These are mountains, you know, not hills - they'd be in fine shape after they'd swum out to the Jocasta. They could paddle round her and hurl abuse - their powder would be wet, so abuse would be their only weapon."
"But, sir, " Southwick protested, "there are bound to be boats - fishermen tie 'em up to piers and that sort of thing."
"At night they'd probably be out fishing, but anyway they're small boats. Would you gamble on finding enough little fishing boats - with oars left in them - for two hundred men? Forty boats at least?"
"Well, no, sir, " said Southwick. "Some, though. But you're right about oars: they're all thieves and they certainly wouldn't trust each other enough to leave oars on board."
"You don't think our men could get on board from our own boats, sir?" Aitken asked.
"I'm sure they might, but if they had to tow her out - two knots? More than half a mile to the entrance? Three forts with fifty, thirty-six and twenty-eight guns - a total of a hundred and fourteen with the range barely above two hundred yards?"
"They might sail her out, " Aitken said hopefully.
"Indeed they might. Those would be my orders if there was any guarantee that she's properly rigged and that we could tell from seaward when there's a fair wind in the channel. We know she was originally stripped and her yards sent down. Now we know her yards are crossed and sails bent on. But what of sheets and braces? If I was the Spanish captain, worried about having his ship cut out - don't forget Captain Eames was there less than a month ago - I'd leave reeving sheets and braces until just before I was ready to sail.
"So without being reasonably certain of a fair wind and without being certain she can be sailed, I'm not risking two hundred Calypsos. It wouldn't even be risking, it would sending them to death or captivity."
"But at least you'd have tried, sir, " Aitken protested.
"Yes, but . . ." Now Ramage was smiling. "The 'but' is simple yet important. A dead hero who succeeds is one thing; a dead hero who fails is another. And a dead hero who unnecessarily sent two hundred men to their graves is a knave."
"Quite, sir, " Aitken said quietly, suddenly recalling the almost incredible loyalty that Captain Ramage seemed to inspire in men who had served with him, ranging from Southwick to that flock of seamen led by Jackson. "But we don't have much time, sir. The minute anyone on the coast spots us, they'll pass the word to Santa Cruz."
"Yes, indeed, " Ramage agreed, "and a neutral ship coming into Santa Cruz might sight us: why, we might even be seen by a guarda costa."
"Then, sir . . ."
"This is where the conversation began, " Ramage said, still smiling. "Southwick had just said it was hopeless, and I'd agreed."
"But, sir -" but then Aitken found he had nothing more to say. Southwick slapped him on the back and gave a hearty laugh. "Cheer up - we've all stayed alive up to now and we've a deal of prize money due soon! "
Ramage turned to Southwick. "How does this American chart compare with the others?"
"More soundings, and I suspect the Jocasta's position is more accurately marked. Aitken said the Jonathan skipper showed where he usually anchored if there was no room at the quay - where he's drawn in an anchor. That's only a hundred yards from the Jocasta's stern, and she's secured to buoys and doesn't swing."
"The distances compare well? I mean the scale of this chart is likely to be correct?"
"Yes, sir. See here, now, the channel's a hundred yards wide at the entrance, almost exactly half a mile long, and tapers down a bit to about eighty yards where it meets the lagoon. As you can see, the lagoon is just about rectangular, as though it was an artificial harbour. A mile long from east to west, half a mile wide."
Southwick took the dividers from a rack on Ramage's desk and used them to point at the fort on the inland side of the lagoon. "I reckon this is the one that could cause the most trouble: Santa Fe. It stands three hundred feet up and can cover the channel from one end to the other. One mile from the fort to the entrance.
"Now, these two at the entrance, they've been sited badly. I don't reckon they can fire down the channel towards the lagoon: I'm sure they can only fire to seaward and just cover the channel between 'em."
Ramage looked closely at the drawing. "What makes you think that?"
"Well, you see how that Jonathan fellow sketched in the run of the hills here. Look, this is Castillo San Antonio, on the eastern side of the entrance. Well, that's how it is on Summers's drawing. I reckon the slope of the hill hides the channel from the fort. None of us spotted it then so it was too late to ask. Both charts agree about the hills on the west side, too, so this other fort, El Pilar, was probably built the same way, with the slope hiding the channel."
Aitken said suddenly: "It would make sense, sir: they site Santa Fe to sweep the channel and stop any ships sailing down it, and build San Antonio and El Pilar to cover the seaward approach. I'm no soldier, sir, but I can't see them siting fortresses to stop ships leaving the port! "
"How much of the channel do you reckon they might cover, Southwick?" Ramage asked.
"Maybe half of it: a quarter of a mile."
Ramage shrugged his shoulders. "Towing at two knots, you wouldn't get a rowing boat past them."
"No, sir, " Southwick said lamely. "I was just pointing it out."
"How high would you guess the walls of the fort?"
"Forty or fifty feet, sir."
"I think you'll find that guns mounted that high in either fort would clear the hills . . ."
"Yes, sir, " Southwick admitted, flushing. "I was going on the plan drawn here. Of course, that'd be ground level. Sorry, sir."
"No, you may be right anyway. I'm only going by the fact Summers didn't mention it when I talked to him. He had sharp eyes, that man; considering he drew his chart from memory, he didn't miss much."
He sat down at the desk and motioned the two men to sit down. "Southwick, have a couple of copies made of this chart. It will be a good job for young Orsini. Clean, accurate copies."
"Yes, sir. You have anything in particular in mind?"
Again Ramage smiled. "Some brilliant idea snatched from a passing cloud? No, our only hope is something unexpected, so we may as well be prepared. We might have Aitken row in one night disguised as a fisherman - he can bring us back a nice mackerel or two and report on the town."
"I wouldn't trust him in Santa Cruz with all those beautiful Spanish ladies, sir. Wouldn't trust myself, come to that, " the old Master said, giving a lewd wink.
"What are your night orders, sir?" Aitken said hurriedly. "Anything special?"
"No, we'll reverse our course at sunset and hope we'll be lucky tomorrow. Now, how are these Invincibles settling in?"
"Very well, sir. Another week and you won't be able to distinguish them from the others."