It was too late. Several heads turned to stare at Geordie, who had suddenly gone ashen and was wrestling with the wheel, and at the same moment there was a babble of talk from the men at the bows and railings.
'For God's sake, we're spinning!' Geordie said, and I saw then what he meant.
Esmerelda was boxing the compass! Her bows swept slowly over the horizon as she twirled in a complete circle, not very fast, but with a suggestion of power in the colossal eddy that had her in its grip. And at the same time I saw a rising column of mist, darkening even as it rose, that appeared as if by magic out of the sea half a mile or so away from us. There were shouts of alarm from people, and I clung to a staunchion to steady myself as we spun about.
Almost as soon as it happened it had ceased, and Esmerelda was rocking tipsily, but steadying up again with the billowing steamy cloud ahead to starboard. I saw other little eddies appear and vanish on the sea's disturbed surface, and the smell of sulphur was suddenly pungent. I heard Geordie shouting but for the moment a ringing in my ears made it sound very faint and distant, and I shook my head to clear it.
'Ian! This is bloody dicey, but we've got to get an anchor down! We'll lose the dinghy and Bill both if we start shifting.'
I heard the anchor cable rattle out of the hawse pipe almost as he spoke, tethering Esmerelda to the shallow bottom. I could guess how reluctant Geordie would be to sacrifice his precious mobility at that moment, but it was of course essential to keep station. The dinghy rocked heavily and I saw a line being thrown to her, presumably to keep her in contact with us.
Campbell's body lurched into mine as we swung round the anchor cable, and Geordie called, 'Not enough – she'll swing into the dinghy! We'll have to get Bill up fast!' But he had gone down free-style, without a line, and there didn't seem to be any way to do it. I saw that some of the crew were swinging out the motor launch, and guessed that Geordie would use it to take up the dinghy crew into a more seaworthy craft, leaving the smaller boat in tow.
'How long will he stay down?' I asked, staring over the side. The whole surface of the water was rippling and beginning to chop.
'Not long at all,' Geordie said tensely. 'The moment he breaks surface we'll have him up out of there. With any luck there'll be enough disturbance down below to get him up quickly. Thank God it's shallow – at least he won't have a decompression problem.'
'What's happening?' Campbell's voice sounded as if he'd asked that question several times already.
I said, 'Wait a moment – I'll explain later.' I was staring at the column rising from the sea as if mesmerized. There was hardly any noise but the column blackened steadily, with a white nimbus around it, almost like the smoke of an oily fire, and I knew without a doubt that if there was no underwater disturbance to bring Bill to the surface, there was another phenomenon that would work as well – the sea would be rising in temperature, not to boiling point, at least not here, but several degrees above its normal state. I knew that I was looking at the beginning of an underwater volcanic eruption, and my heart was thudding as if my chest would burst open.
Geordie guessed it too, and a ripple of awareness ran through the crew. Campbell's mouth hung open and his hand fell away from my arm. Eyes were scanning the water near us, looking anxiously for our diver's reappearance, and glances over our shoulders kept us in touch with the increasing activity away on the horizon. Esmerelda was still rocking a little roughly but there was no feeling of instability about her. Something broke surface not far from the dinghy.
'There he is!' called Danny, pointing.
We saw the two men still in the dinghy pulling Bill in over the thwarts, the motor launch waiting off to take her in tow back to the ship, when there was a totally unexpected interruption.
Taffy Morgan shouted, 'Ship on the starboard beam!'
I spun round incredulously and pounded across the deck, colliding with someone on the way. Out of the smoke and steam that drifted across the sea ahead of us, half shielding her until the last possible moment, the bulk of Sirena came bearing down upon us.
Her yards were bare and she was pounding towards us full tilt under power. I could see figures on deck, many of them, and the lift of her bow wave as she approached.
'Goddam it! We're trussed up here for the slaughter,' Campbell said in vicious unbelief.
Geordie ran up the deck. 'Slip that flaming cable!' he bawled.
But there wasn't enough time. Sirena was on us, slewing and with her speed falling off at the last possible moment to lay alongside us with a minimum of seamanship, relying totally on surprise to aid her terrible attack. She didn't quite make the turn and her bowsprit stabbed at us like a monstrous rapier. There was an almighty crash and Esmerelda shuddered violently and moved bodily sideways in the water.
I was thrown against Geordie and we both went down in a tangle of arms and legs. I scrambled to my feet, all the breath knocked out of my body, and saw hazily that Esmerelda's yardarm was locked in Sirena's shrouds.
Ramirez had rammed us. The chaos was indescribable.
There was a roar of angry voices and a flood of men poured across the deck from Sirena, and I saw the flash of knives in the enveloping glow of that fantastic yellow light.
Chapter Eight
It was a short fight and a bitter one.
In the fraction of a second before they were on to us I saw Campbell's incredulous face, his mouth open in surprise. Then Geordie roared, 'Stand together, lads!' and I was grappling with a hefty brute who wielded a long and wickedly gleaming knife.
If he had come at me from underneath I might have been disembowelled, but he used the basically unsound overarm stab. I saw the knife coming down, grasped his wrist and pulled. This unexpected assistance sent him off balance. I did a neat sidestep, more suited to the dance floor than the battlefield, twisted his arm and pushed. He reeled into the scuppers and his knife clattered on the deck.
I looked around and all was confusion. I scarcely had time to distinguish friend from enemy before I was attacked again. I felt a cold burn sear along my ribs as the knife struck, and in desperation I hit out slantwise with the edge of my hand at the blurred figure before me. There was a choked gurgle and the blur vanished – I hoped I'd smashed his larynx.
I staggered up, clutching at a stay for support, and as I wavered about the deck I saw Campbell go down under a vicious smashing blow from a belaying pin – and then I saw the unmistakable bulk of Jim Hadley.
He had got hold of Clare and was twisting her arm behind her back and she was screaming in pain. I couldn't hear her because of the tumult around me but I saw her wide-open mouth and the glaze of terror in her eyes.
I was about to plunge across the deck when there was a staccato rattle of shots and everything seemed to pause momentarily. I took the opportunity to yell, 'Stop fighting! For God's sake, stop fighting!'
The roar began again only to be halted by another fusillade of shots. A voice called, 'Very wise, Mr Trevelyan.' Then came a rapid spate of Spanish, which I was too dazed to follow.
I called out, 'Hold it, lads! They have Clare!'
We had been defeated in less than three minutes.
Everything stopped as suddenly as it had begun. I felt the burning ache along my rib-case as only the most minor of distractions as I looked hastily around the deck. There seemed to be Spaniards everywhere, far more of them than of us, and three men lay on the deck without moving.
Ramirez stepped delicately across the deck with two armed men at his back. I had time to wonder where he'd got a fresh load of weapons from, and then he faced me. 'We meet under different circumstances, Mr Trevelyan,' he observed with a mocking smile.