Rennick was beginning to feel weary. From his bird's-eye view he estimated he was more than two thirds of the way up to San Antonio. The Jocasta should be leaving the lagoon and entering the channel by now. It was hopeless trying to look at his watch while still climbing, and he passed the word for a halt. The men could have a brief rest; he could check the time and hope the sergeant across the channel was doing the same. To the minute, Captain Ramage had said of the final attack; the difference of a minute between the assaults on San Antonio and El Pilar could lose all the surprise and cost lives.
He managed to make out the hands of the watch in the faint moonlight. Eleven minutes to go. Better wait at the top than here, he thought, and started off again, followed by his men. The path was smooth, slippery with sheep and goat droppings, and soon began to level out, still with the hill to the left. Then, with startling suddenness, Rennick found the castle towering above him: the path came out from beside a sheer outcrop of rock some five yards from the western side. He ducked back and then squatted down, peering upwards across the gap at the grey walls.
It was unlikely that they would be seen. A sentry leaning over this west corner and staring downward might spot them, but the chances were about the same as being hit by a bolt of lightning. He whispered an order to the Marine behind him and waited until he saw him pass it to the next man.
He moved slowly across the gap until he was against the wall of the castle, then pulled the strip of white cloth from his pocket and tied it round his head. More Marines, all moving slowly, joined him and followed as he led the way round the castle, a sheer face of shaped stone. From here he had a fine view of El Pilar across the channeclass="underline" the moon was higher now and the shadows shorter. Then he was at the corner and peering round it along the south side of San Antonio. The doorway, blast it, was halfway along the wall with no cover, and hundreds of mosquitoes seemed to be living in the cracks of the stonework, all of them with a whine that made a shrill chorus.
He watched carefully but there was no sign of movement. If there was a sentry, he would be inside the door. Mr Ramage had stressed that the attack had to begin at a certain time, but, Rennick found himself puzzling, did the attack begin here, or inside the castle?
He pulled out his watch. Four minutes to go. Here or inside the castle? He asked himself the question again and decided to risk there being a sentry down there; the one who could raise the alarm by seeing the flashes of guns at El Pilar was up on the battlements. He signalled the men to follow and crept along the wall. The darkness played tricks with distance, making the castle seem bigger than it was, and he was surprised how quickly he reached the door. It was enormous, studded with circular bolt-heads which were intended to blunt the axes of an enemy trying to cut their way in - and it was shut. He gripped the big handle, lifted it and pulled. The door moved a few inches with a spine-chilling creak and Rennick waited to see what the noise provoked. Nothing moved on the other side and he pulled it again so that the door was open just wide enough for them to slip through one at a time.
He cocked his pistol, quietly drew his cutlass, then led the way through the opening. There was a big courtyard, most of it hidden in shadow. The castle was a hollow square with a building against the north wall which was probably used as a barracks for the garrison. A smaller building a few yards beyond was most likely the officers' quarters, while another nearby would be the kitchen. To one side, stone steps led up to the top of the wall, where the guns sat, waiting.
By now all the Marines were through the door. Rennick found the corporal and gave him his orders, then took his own section of men and whispered their instructions. He looked at his watch. Two minutes to go. He hissed a warning to the men, repeated it when a minute had gone, and then counted the remaining seconds, finishing with a "Go", when he led the rush across the square.
The corporal's section went straight to the two barrack buildings while Rennick raced to the steps. As he reached the bottom one he saw the dim outline of a man standing at the top. He knew it was hopeless to try a pistol shot in the bad light, and anyway the noise would raise the alarm quicker than a shout. The man had vanished and was shouting as Rennick rushed up the steps, all tiredness vanishing in the spasm of fear as he pictured alert men waiting to shoot him as he reached the top.
Down below there was a thudding interspersed with the sound of cutlass blades, then shouts in Spanish. Rennick reached the top of the steps and paused a moment, trying to distinguish where the sentries were. There was a flash of a musket from the western end of the wall and a shot twanged away in ricochet. The rest of the Marines streamed up the steps, but Rennick had already realized that there was only one sentry who must have bolted back from the steps to seize his musket. Now he would be gripping the empty weapon and feeling lonely and defenceless.
"Secure him! " Rennick said loudly, and looked across at El Pilar. There was no noise, no flashes. With luck the sergeant had caught the Spanish asleep there too.
He ran down the steps followed by several of his men and found that the corporal was already beginning to line up a row of sleepy but frightened prisoners. Three Marines dragged a figure from the smaller building, a man wearing a long nightshirt and clearly the commandant. He too was forced into the line, which comprised about twenty men. Yet there had been only one man on sentry duty. It had been just on the hour when the man appeared at the top of the steps, so he was probably coming down to arouse his relief.
As Rennick thought of the commandant, the man in the long nightshirt, he realized that the castle was in his hands.
"Corporal, " he called, "the lanterns! "
"They're here ready, sir."
"Light them, then put them up on the west wall! "
Three lanterns each set three feet apart on the west wall would tell the Jocasta - and the sergeant over at El Pilar - that San Antonio had been captured. Half the task was completed, and he looked round carefully before setting off to complete the other half.
He saw it in a few moments, and realized that he must have passed within a few feet of it in the rush to the steps. It was in the centre of the courtyard, and in the moonlight it looked as if it could be a well. He reached it to find a horizontal trapdoor which reminded him of a hatch in a ship. There was a padlock on it and he called for an axeman, one of the men who would, if necessary, have battered down the castle door.
A dozen well-placed strokes cut out the section of plank on which the hasp was bolted. Willing hands grabbed the door and swung it back, and Rennick saw that steps cut in rock went down into what was little more than a cave. He handed a Marine his pistol and cutlass and went down the steps. It was the magazine; stored in the cave were enough barrels of powder and cartridges to withstand a year's siege. He felt one barrel after another, and finally gave up counting before he came across bales of felt wads. Many hundredweights of powder; probably several tons. More than enough to do the job.