Ramage shrugged his shoulders. He was not a true republican.'
'I know that well enough,' Bazin said as he half rose but sank back when he saw the Marine's cutlass. 'But that is no reason for you, an aristo, to murder us.'
'But why should I murder him but spare you?' Ramage enquired mildly.
'Because . . . well, because . . . what I mean is, you should not murder me because I am a true republican; I believe in the freedom and equality of man. But Duroc - he was an opportuniste. He was a bosun before the Revolution. He joined the Revolution only to get promotion!'
Ramage took out his watch and inspected it Ten minutes before midnight, citoyen. For us,' and he could not resist putting a slight emphasis on 'us', 'the new day is about to begin.'
He called to the sentry in the other cabin, and a minute later Duroc stamped through the door. Bazin leapt to his feet like a rocket, white - faced, crashed his head against the beam, and fell flat at Duroc's feet. The French captain looked across at Ramage, a grin on his face. 'He knows all about revolutions. By dawn he'll know all about working a chain pump, too. You have a droll sense of humour, milord, but it brings out the truth at times.'
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Amsterdam's houses were painted in gay colours which the glaring sun emphasized without making them garish. The owners on the Punda side obviously preferred pinks and light blues while Otrabanda favoured reds, greens and white, but most of the roofs, steeply pitched and gabled in the Dutch style, had red tiles, in contrast to the wooden shingles favoured in the British islands. It was curious about the colour preferences but, Ramage thought, the explanation was probably mundane: the paint shop on one side stocked some colours; its rival the others.
The channel separating the two halves of the town was stained brown as it joined Sint Anna Baai, probably due to the slight rise and fall of tide draining out some of the water as it ebbed from the Schottegat, the inland lake.
The fort on Punda, Waterfort, seemed quiet enough; nor was there any sign of movement at Riffort on Otrabanda, 'the other side'. The Dutch flags were flying from flagpoles on both forts; it was also flying from the building that Ramage assumed was Government House.
Amsterdam, Ramage decided, was an oddly attractive and typically Dutch town set down on an arid and desolate island whose sole function was to be the main Dutch trading post in the Caribbean. The Dutch had done their best to make the town look cheerful and they had succeeded. If you forgot the heat and the bright glare, Amsterdam could be any town built along a canal in the Netherlands. Certainly the general flatness of the island (if one did not look to the west as the hills began and rolled up to Sint Christoffelberg) made you think that the average Dutchman was only happy on flat land, although from seaward small hills gave the appearance of waves in a choppy sea.
The privateers were at anchor just at the entrance to Schottegat and still had the laid - up - out - of - commission look about them. He had only a fleeting glance of them through the telescope as the Calypso tacked in towards the shore, but it was enough to show him that nothing had changed since they had passed on their way to the west end of the island.
Aitken shut his telescope with a snap. That fresh lot of smoke near Willebrordus puzzles me, sir. I'm sure it's from burning buildings. Black smoke with the white. If it was just scrub and grass burning, it would be white.'
'And I'm sure I could hear gunfire,' Wagstaffe said. No one else had heard it, but they had been almost to leeward of the smoke at the time and Ramage was quite prepared to believe the second lieutenant. Rennick, in his usual impulsive way, had wanted to be landed in Bullen Bay with a platoon of Marines to investigate, but as Ramage pointed out, gunfire and smoke in Curacao was the concern of the Dutch Governor, and the Dutch, like the French and Spanish, were the enemy . . . Fire could only mean the destruction of bush and cactus, a few scraggy divi-divi trees, aloes and agaves, and perhaps some plantation houses (not many because there were few plantations). The goats and iguana would bolt, the wild doves would take off for quieter comers of the island, and the fire would eventually burn out.
The Calypso, under topsails alone in a fifteen - knot breeze that occasionally whipped up small white caps in sudden gusts, was steering north - west towards Piscadera Baai as Ramage looked up the channel into the Schottegat. But so far the only reaction to the frigate's presence in this part of the Caribbean seemed to be fish leaping away from her stem, like dogs dodging a careering carriage, and swarms of flying fish coming up out of the water like small silver arrows without making a ripple, then skimming above the waves for scores of yards and suddenly vanishing without the tiniest splash. The frigate birds, broad - winged with thin bodies, black and white, graceful in flight (yet to Ramage always ugly and menacing), swooped down on the flying fish, showing a fantastic skill in flying but attacked by the tiny laughing gulls. The chubbier boobies flew low, and often rested on the water like old ladies sitting in a market selling their wares, beady eyes alert, or dived for a fish. Very occasionally half a dozen dolphins played under the Calypso's bow, swimming at enormous speeds and crossing ahead of her so close it seemed they must be hit by the cutwater. The cry of 'Dolphins' usually sent the off - watch men running to the bowsprit and jibboom, from where they would 'ooooh!' and 'aaaah!' until the dolphins vanished as quickly as they arrived.
Ramage decided to make one more tack across Sint Anna Baai, passing two miles off Waterfort and Riffort to wake up the gunners and perhaps provoke them into firing. This raiding of the bars was useful because although the Calypso had nothing to fear from shore guns at that range it was usually too close for them to resist firing. Careful observation of the puffs of smoke could reveal how many guns a fort had, and if they had not been fired for a long time they could sometimes do their owners considerable harm: a wooden carriage with hidden rot could send a gun barrel weighing a couple of tons spinning away in a shower of smoke and flame like a carelessly - thrown stick. Roundshot painted too frequently or neglected and rusted invariably ended up larger than they should be, like swollen grapefruit, and they could stick in the bore, with the gunners left unsure whether or not to fire the gun to clear it in case the barrel blew apart Tacking back and forth in front of the forts and just outside their effective range was as good a way of teasing the enemy as any and always pleased the ship's company.
Taking the ship in closer than intended was also a way of ensuring smart sail handling, Ramage mused. Lucky shooting which took away a mast or yard when fifty other shot had missed altogether seemed to happen more frequently at long range than close in. And many ships sailing in boldly with a nice fresh breeze to intimidate a shore battery had been lost when the wind suddenly vanished, leaving them becalmed, a stationary target and an artilleryman's dream.
He lifted his telescope for one more look at the town - from this angle he could see the third side of Riffort on Otrabanda. Beyond it, on Punda, there was a curious movement round the flagpole at Government House. In fact the big Dutch flag was being lowered. He looked at the flags on the two forts, but they were still flying. Yet - yes, there were several men round the bases of each flagpole.
Now a bundle was going up the flagpole at Government House and breaking out to stream in the wind - a plain white flag. Another was being run up to replace the Dutch flag on the fort at Punda. And now a third was being hoisted at Riffort.
A white flag, the flag of truce? Well, there was no question about its meaning; everyone treated it as a truce flag, the signal for a parley. But here, in Amsterdam, with ten French privateers safely anchored inside the two forts guarding the entrance? What could Aitken suddenly exclaimed as he saw the flags; then the lookout at the foremast hailed the quarterdeck. In a few moments the whole ship was buzzing with comment and speculation. Southwick, quite inevitably, sniffed and announced that it was a trick; that the Calypso, with La Perle hardly out of sight, should not get caught on her own bait They can see we've a good breeze out here and there's probably a dead patch close in under their guns that we don't know about and where we'd be becalmed,' he announced. 'It's no good trusting mynheer, he's a cunning fellow. Drives a hard bargain - and fights hard, too.'