Ramage walked aft, hitching at the cutlass belt over his shoulder and kicking at a piece of bread lying on the deck. The ship stank of rum; not fifteen minutes ago Southwick and the purser had sluiced a bucket of it over the quarterdeck and now a barrel was lashed against the skylight with half a dozen mugs beside it. It normally held forty gallons of rum and was obviously placed so that any man could have a mugful when he felt like it - or so it would seem to a casual eye.
The Santa Barbara was following a hundred yards astern, sailing in the Calypso's wake, the red, gold and red of the Spanish flag streaming out in the breeze. From her foremast flew two flag signals - "Lead the fleet" and "Keep in close order". The Calypso, like an obedient bear obeying a small boy, was leading the way into Santa Cruz, obviously a prize. Instead of the Red Ensign, she also flew the flag of Spain; a flag of the same size as the one hoisted in the Santa Barbara, which had obviously supplied it. And from her foreyardarm the frigate flew two more flags which the Spanish lookouts should by now have interpreted: a plain red flag - the "bloody flag" of buccaneer days and now the symbol of revolution - and below it, obviously vanquished, a Red Ensign.
"Brother Jackson, " Ramage called, "I'll trouble you to bear up for a moment and shiver those luffs! "
"Aye, aye, brother Ramage, " Jackson said cheerfully.
"Brother Ramage, " Southwick called selfconsciously, "according to my revolutionary quadrant we're exactly a mile off the entrance."
Ramage nodded. They were approaching the coast at an angle, and there was now no doubt that the wind in the channel was blowing out through the entrance. In another ten minutes they would be in position. He looked aft anxiously, but Wagstaffe was waiting deliberately in the Santa Barbara: he could measure distances as well as Southwick. One mile: they were within range of the guns of both forts, but neither had opened fire.
"Brother Jackson, " Ramage growled, "there's no need to flog the sails into shreds. If you luff too much again I'll bring you before the committee."
All the men on the quarterdeck laughed cheerfully and gave their Captain credit for being a waggish fellow, but in fact Ramage could detect a stiffness among them. The habit of discipline, the respect for officers and obedience to orders was hard to drop in a couple of hours, but they were now supposed to be mutineers. There were no officers on board; according to the story that each of them would tell if questioned, all the officers had been murdered two days ago and their new officers were the leaders of the mutiny - brother Ramage (the former bosun), brother Aitken (a Marine sergeant) and brother Southwick (who, Ramage decided, had been the cook's mate, a choice which brought Southwick close to mutiny). The automatic use of the word "brother" might serve to convince a doubting Spaniard; it might gain a few minutes when seconds mattered. Or it might be a complete waste of time. In any case, Ramage had decided, it amused the men; it took their minds off the menace of the forts.
"Brother Ramage! " a seaman hailed from aloft. "The Santa Barbara's hoisting a signal! "
Ramage put the telescope to his eye. Number twenty-nine.
"Brother Aitken, I'll trouble you to heave-to the ship, but not too skilfully please."
Having spent all his sea-going life in ships that were always handled correctly, Aitken had to concentrate on his orders so that as the Calypso's bow swung across the eye of the wind the foretopsail was not braced up enough to ensure that the pressure on the forward side trying to push the frigate's bow one way was balanced by the pressure on the after sails trying to thrust the bow the other. Instead of lying stopped in the water like a waiting seagull, the bow continued to swing.
"Brother Aitken! " Ramage said, surprised how easily he could substitute "brother" for the more usual "mister", "if we wear right round now and try again I think we'd demonstrate to our new Spanish friends on shore that we are lubbers! "
"Aye, aye, sir - brother, rather."
The Calypso's bow paid right off, spinning the ship round like a top. Sails flapped and slatted like enormous curtains, then filled with a bang; men hauled on sheets and braces, Jackson gave quick, sharp commands to the men at the wheel. The Santa Barbara, taken by surprise, had to bear away to avoid risk of collision and then tack to get up to windward of the frigate.
Soon the Calypso was lying hove-to, with the Santa Barbara hove-to a hundred yards to windward. Ramage could see the corpulent cook's mate over on the brig, resplendent in the gold-trimmed uniform of a Spanish captain, climbing down into the brig's boat, which had been towing astern and was now hauled alongside. With him was a seaman rigged out in a lieutenant's uniform. Now the boat was cast off and the seamen began rowing down to the Calypso.
Army officers would be watching with telescopes from the walls of the forts. Ramage hoped it would all be clear to them by now. Somewhere along the coast the Santa Barbara, one of His Most Catholic Majesty's ships, would have found the Calypso flying the "bloody flag" of mutiny and with her mutineers anxious to follow in the footsteps of the Jocasta. Captain Lopez would have ordered her to make for Santa Cruz after having put people on board to keep an eye on things.
Hoisting the signal "Lead the fleet", the Santa Barbara had then followed the Calypso. Now, off the entrance to Santa Cruz, Lopez would have found the wind foul for the entrance, so that both the Calypso and the Santa Barbara would have to be towed in. What could be more natural than having both ships heave-to while he went across to the Calypso to give the mutinous Englishmen their final orders?
The Santa Barbara's boat came alongside and the cook's mate climbed on board with his lieutenant to make his way to the quarterdeck while the boat was hauled aft to tow astern. The cook's mate's appearance at the gangway was met with hoots of laughter and catcalls: he was a popular man and, with the cook, one of the wealthiest men on the lower deck. Selling slush to his shipmates was one of his perquisites: it helped soften the board-like bread, or bind it together when it had become so old it began to crumble. The cook's mate had quick wits and a ready tongue, and as he made his way aft he kept up a barrage of imitation Spanish. Finally he reached the quarterdeck with his lieutenant and Ramage called: "Don't salute anyone: come up to me! "
The Calypso was close enough to Castillo San Antonio that anyone with a powerful telescope could see down on to the frigate's quarterdeck. When the cook's mate - looking remarkably like Lopez - reached him, Ramage saluted him with a flourish.
"Captain Lopez! "
"Well, brother Ramage - that's what Mr Wagstaffe said I was to call you once I got this uniform on - well, as I was saying, sir, Mr Wagstaffe said as 'ow I was to tell you for sure, sir, that there weren't no message, sir."
"Good. Now I want you and your lieutenant to keep striding up and down here on the quarterdeck. Make sure that you can be seen by everyone in these forts up here - they're watching us with telescopes. You see the entrance channel? Good, point along it. You've just given me my orders. Now I understand what you mean. Oh no I don't! " He called to the seaman dressed as the Spanish lieutenant. "Come closer - you are supposed to be translating everything to me."
Ramage turned back to the cook's mate. "Point up at one of the forts. Now the other. When I salute, you start marching up and down. Not like a Marine, " he added hastily. "You're in charge of everything, so swagger about! "