CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Twilight turned to darkness with the suddenness for which the Tropics are notorious, and the Dido hove-to a mile from Pointe des Nègres, her bow heading into the cliffs which lined the shore.
The Pointe itself stuck out to the south-west like a stubby tail, cliffs right to the narrow end. At one mile Ramage could, with the nightglass, just make out the blacker blur of the land, but he was not sure he would be able to distinguish a ship. The Achille, coming out of the Baie du Carénage, would have to sail south for more than half a mile before turning north-west so that she avoided the shallow Banc du Fort St Louis. But what would she do after that if she intended making a bolt to the north - follow the land round to Pointe des Nègres, or head out to the west to make an offing before turning north?
If she went out to the west and the Scourge was not following her and burning false fires, the Dido would miss her: Ramage was betting that she would keep close to the land. The Achille had plenty of choices. She could come out to the south-west before turning north-west: an arc of some three miles which the Dido could not hope to cover. Did young Bennett realize how much depended on him? It was probably a good thing if he did not: he might get so nervous that his judgement was affected.
'How many lookouts do we have?' Ramage asked Aitken.
'Eight, sir: two extra ones. One on the starboard bow, one aft on the starboard side.'
'We'll beat to quarters now. If they sailed as soon as it was dark they could be along here within twenty minutes or so, and it takes us fifteen minutes to get to general quarters.'
Aitken gave the order and in a couple of minutes the two Marine drummers were striking up. Once again, even though it was dark, Ramage was reminded of an anthill being stirred up as the men hurried to their positions. They would be loading the 32-pounders, which had a range of 2,080 yards, and the 24-pounders, which could fire a shot 1,800 yards, while the 12-pounders could manage 1,500 yards. Nor were the shot insignificant - the 32-pounders were 6.1 inches in diameter, the 24-pounders 5.6 inches, and the 12-pounders were a comparatively modest 4.4 inches.
So much for the figures, Ramage thought. The problem in a night action was the muzzle flash: it blinded the gunners and half-blinded and certainly confused the officers on the quarterdeck. In fact night actions were very rare: the problem of judging distances and aiming the guns properly made most captains, British and French, avoid them if they could. In fact the Achille was almost certainly sailing at night because her captain thought it was the best way of avoiding an action with the Dido: he was relying on the Dido's reluctance to fight as much as the chance of dodging her in the dark.
Ramage heard the rumble of the carronades being run out on their slides and could imagine Orsini's excitement: his first night action in a 74-gun ship. There was, Ramage had to admit, something awe-inspiring about taking such a big ship into action. There was 200 feet of ship from figurehead to taffrail, 24,000 square feet of canvas aloft, and the ship weighed about 2,800 tons . . . yes, the figures were impressive enough, and it was important to realize that they applied to the Achille as well. And when they came to fight each other, both the giants could be blinded by the gun flashes . . .
When Aitken reported the starboard side guns loaded with roundshot and run out, Ramage told him to do the same thing with the larboard guns. 'But tell the guns' crews to stand by the starboard guns when they've finished; I have a feeling that we shall be engaging to starboard.'
In the darkness the deck forward of the mainmast looked curiously empty: all the boats had been hoisted out and were towing astern, so that random shot did not shatter them on the booms and send a shower of lethal splinters across the deck.
Guns loaded and run out: the ship ready for battle. Now was the time to strip the ship down to fighting canvas. The Achille would probably come into sight with every stitch of canvas set as she hurried to the north, but she would be unhandy, and Ramage was sure he was not going to get caught in the same trap.
'Take in the topgallants, Mr Aitken.'
Aitken began shouting orders through the speaking trumpet. It would mean that topmen would have to leave the guns, but the main thing was that the guns were now loaded and ready to fire.
As soon as the topgallants were furled on the yard Ramage gave the order to furl the courses. With the Dido down to topsails she was now reduced to fighting canvas. All she needed, Ramage thought grimly, was someone to fight.
There were now more clouds than usual and they hid the stars, making it a dark night. It was just possible to distinguish the cliffs at Pointe des Nègres, but there was no sign of the horizon to seaward. They would probably - though not certainly - spot the Achille if she passed between the Dido and the land, but if she passed to seaward, Ramage estimated, they would miss her - unless the Scourge was shadowing her. Everything was beginning to turn on the brig, and Ramage wished he had more trust in Bennett.
Aitken said: 'It seems an especially dark night. We could do with a bit of a moon.'
'Yes - new moon tomorrow, although it sets so early it wouldn't be much use.'
'This cloud may clear away,' Aitken said hopefully. 'Then we'd get a bit more help from the starlight.'
'There's not much chance of that. If it hasn't gone by sunset it usually means it's here for -'
He broke off as a white rocket curved up from where he knew the Scourge was waiting. 'One . . . two . . .' he paused for a few seconds, '- he's coming northwards!' Ramage said jubilantly. 'Now for the false fires!'
He began to feel guilty for having doubted Bennett: it looked as though the brig was going to do her job successfully. And, three minutes later, as if to emphasize the point, she set off the false fire and in the eerie blue glow Ramage was sure he could distinguish the outline of the Achille, showing that the brig was shadowing closely.
'There she is!' Southwick exclaimed excitedly. 'I just saw the sails: a couple of hundred yards or so due east of the brig.'
'I thought I saw something with the naked eye: you have the nightglass.'
'I've lost her now the false fire has gone out. It seems even darker just there. By Jove, that is her; I can just make her out.'
'The Scourge should be setting off another false fire in five minutes, so don't worry if you lose her. Did you get any impression of where she's heading?'
'Up towards us, sir. She must have come out of the Carénage and the Scourge spotted her as she rounded the Banc du Fort St Louis - that was about where the brig was going to wait.'
Now for the gamble, Ramage thought to himself: he was gambling that the Achille was going to follow the coast round to the Pointe des Nègres, but she could make a bolt seaward. If she did that, would he catch her in time? It would be a close-run thing.
Southwick cursed as he lost sight of the Achille and the five-minute wait for the next false fire seemed to last an eternity. Ramage estimated that five minutes had more than elapsed and decided that the brig had lost sight of the Achille. He was just about to tell Southwick to resume his search with the nightglass when suddenly the brig appeared, bathed in an eerie blue light, and just to landward of her Ramage could clearly distinguish the bulky shape of the Achille.
There was no doubt about it: she was keeping close in with the shore, once having rounded the shoal off Fort St Louis. And, Ramage decided, if there is any justice in this miserable world, she should pass just the right distance off Pointe des Nègres, blissfully unaware that the Dido is lying in wait, unseen and - with luck - unexpected.
Now there was another five-minute wait for the next false fire. Five minutes or an hour? It seemed all the same to Ramage, but eventually the blue light appeared again and he could make out the Achille in the circle of illumination thrown by the flare. She was on the same course, and Ramage estimated it would bring her round to about three-quarters of a mile off Pointe des Nègres - which would mean in turn that she would pass close to the Dido, even if the Dido did not move.