'And the Spanish?' Ramage asked. 'Any sign of patrols?'
'No, sir. The French ship's company were just scattered along the beach. Some of them were trying to haul the boats higher, so that they wouldn't be smashed by the surf, but three broke up. We saw a group of Spaniards to the east, from the village, but they were keeping away from the French. I have a feeling the French aren't going to get much of a welcome.' While they finished the meal Ramage told Lacey of Curacao's problems and the island's surrender, and then described his intended night attack on the rebels. 'I can muster thirty men, sir,' Lacey offered eagerly. That would give you eight groups.' Ramage thought for a moment La Creole was anchored beyond the privateers, almost in the Schottegat The danger to the ships would come only from a large enemy ship attempting the entrance. The schooner with a much - reduced crew would be safe enough. 'Very well,' he said. 'Rennick has the map of the island. Spend half an hour or so with him, so you'll know what we propose.' The meal had been finished and Lacey had left when a boat from Punda brought Major Lausser on board with a report from the Governor telling Ramage that the rebels and privateersmen had not moved from the camp they had set up the previous night near Daniel; that they had apparently looted the villages of Pannekoek, Willebrordus and Daniel; and in burning down some large estate houses they had collected a large quantity of rum. Patrols had seen men driving cattle into the camp, where presumably they were being slaughtered. And, the Governor commented, tomorrow was the anniversary of the storming of the Bastille. Was it possible, he asked, that the Frenchmen were going to celebrate it? If they were, it seemed highly likely the drinking and feasting would start tonight. . .
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The Dutch shopkeepers and their families, along with most other people living on the Otrabanda side, had spent most of the day moving over to Punda with as many of their valuables as they could carry or persuade the boatmen to take on board. The rowing boats, laden with furniture on which the owners perched precariously, crossed the channel with the occupants cursing, joking or being reassured in shrill Dutch or Papiamento, the local language which was a curious mixture of Dutch, Spanish, English and African dialects. Southwick noted to Aitken that it was probably the first time that so many people in Amsterdam had exerted themselves in the blazing midday sun; usually they retired to cool and curtained rooms for a siesta lasting until three o'clock.
Now, half an hour after darkness, the Calypso's boats were landing the last of the eight companies on the Otrabanda quay. Rennick's Marines were formed up as though awaiting the Colonel - Commandant's inspection on the parade ground at Chatham; Lacey was prowling round the thirty men he had brought from La Creole. Aitken stood at the head of his group, which he had formed up in three columns each of ten men, and was silent, no doubt congratulating himself that Southwick had lost the argument that the first lieutenant should stay behind in command of the ship, not the master. Ramage had ruled that marching long distances across the Curacao countryside - and probably running, too - was for youngsters; that masters over sixty with pot - bellies and short of breath could only be rated youngsters if they lived in one of the new charitable homes for old folk. Wagstaffe had his men in four columns of seven men, with a leading seaman ahead and astern. Lacey, Baker and Kenton copied Aitken, who had in turn used the same system as Ramage.
Ramage was thankful that there was still a breeze and knew that with luck it would hold the whole night As usual it had been cool out in the Calypso, but the moment he landed on Otrabanda the heat soaked into him, as though the earth had been storing it all day and would be slowly releasing it through the night. Mosquitoes landed on him like droplets of water in fog and, thwarted at the ankles by his high boots, they made up for it by whining assaults on his wrists and face. The red - hot needle jabs of sandflies showed that Curacao was not free from the tiny midges which elsewhere the seamen called 'no - see - 'ems'.
Now, as the men scrambled out of the last boat and joined Kenton's company, Ramage checked his own men. Choosing his thirty had been difficult only because it meant refusing at least another thirty. Jackson was the second in command, with Stafford and Rossi. Another dozen or so had been chosen because they had served with him in the Kathleen while most of the rest had been in the Triton. It had been a case of choosing thirty men out of a hundred or so that, like children expecting a treat, were shouting, 'Me! Me!'
After giving it some thought, Ramage finally had no compunction about risking being accused of favouritism. He had no set plan for the attack (that was impossible until he could see the rebels' position) but he knew that in the darkness it was more likely that he would have to do something special with his own company because of the difficulty of passing orders to one of the others. That being the case, he wanted men around him who would understand his intentions without a lot of explanation. Someone like Jackson, who as a youngster had fought for the rebels in the American War of Independence and probably knew a good deal more than Rennick about this sort of fighting, which was a matter of ambushes, sudden attacks and vanishing again before the victims recovered. Never, in other words, remaining still long enough for an enemy to take aim. Rennick was by training a man of march and countermarch by files, complicated outflanking movements, brave beyond belief but limited by the drill manual, which dealt with routine situations where men fired to order and battalions and armies, friendly and enemy, moved as though in some gigantic quadrille. It was not, Ramage thought wryly, a case of eager seamen scrambling through the night . . .
In the darkness, though, it seemed that he had a small army formed up, but Rennick's suggestion that the first men landed should include one from each company, who would act as a marker - a marker buoy, in fact - and avoid confusion in the dark as the rest of the men landed, had worked perfectly.
Ramage started his inspection at the head of the column, which was led by Rennick's company and followed by the Marine sergeant's. Then came Ramage's company, followed by Kenton and Baker, Lacey and Wagstaffe, with Aitken bringing up the rear. One hundred and eighty seamen and forty Marines - more than two hundred and twenty men, and all silent except for the muted slapping at mosquitoes. The danger in all operations like this was that a man hoarding his tots of rum would get drunk on the march and become rowdy, but each man boarding a boat had to pause at the Calypso's gangway and be inspected by Southwick on one side and the master-at-arms on the other. The master-at-arms had growled as he checked each man: 'Breathe out . . . pistol or musket ... cutlass or pike ... yer got any rum hidden on yer?' Only after the test had been passed was the man allowed to go over the side, sober and properly armed.
It was eight o'clock and they had at least ten miles to cover. Ramage finished the inspection, went back to the head of the column and said to Rennick: 'Where are the Dutch guides?'
The Marine indicated the two men standing at the head of the column.