He watched the steep cliffs, the shadows almost vertical. They were approaching the end of the headland rapidly now. In a few minutes the land would turn away sharply to the eastward and then curve in again like a huge sickle, the point being Diamond Hill headland, the blade the long beach of the Grande Anse du Diamant and the handle the two headlands at the far end. A mile off the tip of the sickle, like a clump of wheat that it was about to reap, was the Diamond Rock.
Southwick came up the quarterdeck ladder, his great sword at his waist, bushy hair poking out from beneath his hat like a half-squeezed mop and his nose bright red from sunburn. 'No sign of the Admiral then, sir?' He rubbed his hands. 'That means we certainly don't share the prize-money - apart from his usual eighth!'
'We might be glad to see him before the day is out,' Ramage said with unintended harshness.
'We'll go through that convoy like a knife through butter!' Southwick declared cheerfully. 'You'll see, sir.'
'They'll be dead to windward of us,' Ramage reminded him.
'And as you mentioned last evening, sir, they'll never expect us to dare to beat up through them. They'll be like a flock of hens waking up to find a fox in the coop!'
As both men talked, they watched the headland of Diamond Hill drawing abeam and Ramage was reminded of watching a theatre stage as a curtain was drawn back, slowly exposing the scenery and the players.
Wagstaffe by now had La Créole about two miles southeast of the Diamond Rock; from there he could reach up right into the middle of the convoy. Because La Créole was still flying the Tricolour, the moment the French saw the Juno and the Surcouf they would assume she was fleeing from them and seeking protection.
The men at the Juno and Ramage batteries on the Diamond could see both the British frigates coming down to the headland from the north-west and the French convoy creeping along the coast. 'Like a crossroads,' Ramage said to himself and only realized he had spoken aloud when Southwick swung round questioningly. 'I was thinking of the French coming up to this headland from the east while we're approaching from the north-west. Like two coaches approaching along sunken lanes and not seeing each other until they're almost at the crossroads.'
'Just one coach,' Samthwick corrected with a broad grin. 'We're the highwaymen!'
Now they could see clear across the great bight to Pointe des Salines at the southern end of the island that reminded Ramage of a boot. They were rounding the toe cap and could just see the heel with the instep still hidden.
'They must be sticking very close to the coast,' Southwick growled. 'I'd have thought we'd have seen the first of 'em by now.'
Ramage gestured to the end of the headland which was drawing aft at what seemed an alarming speed, but he knew it was only anxiety playing tricks with time.
'Deck there!' came a hail from aloft, 'a frigate on the larboard bow, sir, three miles or more, in line with the headland.'
And there she was, ringed in the telescope lens. He saw a second one beyond her just as the lookout hailed again. The first must be on the convoy's bow, the second on the quarter. Then he saw the third frigate, which was obviously leading the convoy and well ahead of it. The convoy was just at the beginning of the Fours Channel and the timing was perfect.
'Hoist our colours,' Ramage snapped at Orsini. That was the prearranged signal to Aitken that the Juno had sighted the French ships and could herself be sighted and identified. Ramage watched the three frigates closely. At any moment there should be a flurry of flag signals, warning that enemy ships were in sight. With any luck, while the French escort prepared to deal with the enemy La Créole would be getting in among them, apparently a welcome reinforcement but actually positioning herself to act as a Trojan horse.
‘I can see a merchantman now,' Ramage told Southwick, trying to keep his voice even. 'And another beyond her – the ships in the outer column. And another, and two beyond - the centre column ...'
With the wind coming free as they passed clear of the headland, Ramage watched the dog vanes. A glance down at the compass showed it trying to make up its mind between northeast and east-north-east.
'Close-hauled, if you please, Mr Southwick; we should be able to lay south-east comfortably!'
Southwick began bellowing into a speaking trumpet and as Jackson gave orders to the men at the wheel, carefully watching the luffs of the sails, seamen hauled at the sheets and braces, flattening in the sails. Astern the Surcouf was bearing away slightly on to a direct course for the Diamond Rock and Ramage realized that the French ship was faster than the Juno. Aitken would fetch the Diamond with the wind a point free, perhaps more. So much the better; she had farther to sail and the sooner she reached the Rock and rounded it to close off the eastern entrance of the Fours Channel the better,
By the time he looked back over the larboard beam the Fours Channel was in sight and there was the whole French convoy sailing towards him. There were three columns of merchant ships, as he had expected, with one frigate ahead, two out to seaward, and one astern. They were relying on the coast to protect the whole inshore side of the convoy. He must let them go on thinking that the land shielded them.
‘If we could only get between them and the beach ...’ Southwick murmured wistfully. 'Still, Wagstaffe timed it well. They're all just about in the Channel.'
'Not yet,' Ramage said. 'Another half a mile to go. They're just outside the range of the Juno and Ramage batteries. Give 'em ten or fifteen minutes.'
'But they might turn and bolt!' Southwick exclaimed anxiously.
'Come now, Mr Southwick,' Ramage chided, 'you don't really expect seven merchantmen to try to beat back to Pointe des Salines, do you?' He glanced astern and saw that the Surcouf would now be in sight of the French. 'Why should they be frightened of a couple of frigates when they're so near home and have a schooner coming along to help them!'
'Sorry, sir,' said Southwick with mock contrition. ‘I just can't stand the thought of those beggars getting away after all our preparations.' With that he picked up his telescope and looked at the Diamond. 'No sign of the Juno battery - just bushes.' He trained the telescope lower. 'I can just see the cave at the back of the Ramage battery but no sign of guns or men.' He swung the telescope round to the east. 'Wagstaffe’s tacked. He'll just be able to lay the tail of the convoy.'
Ramage, still watching the French frigates, saw a string of flags hoisted from the leading one. He cursed his lack of a French signal book: they had searched La Créole and La Mutine the moment they were captured, but there were no papers on board, not even a muster table. More flags were hoisted and all the frigates repeated them. A few moments later he realized that the second signal must have been to the convoy because the merchantmen were now beginning to bunch up, the outside ships closing in on the centre column. Instead of three columns of ships there was soon just a group, like seven sheep crowding together as a sheepdog circled them. More important, though, they stayed on the same course. They were coming through the Fours Channel . . .
The Juno, stretching south-east and sailing fast, was now half-way between the headland and the Diamond itself. The Surcouf had almost reached the Diamond and would soon be hauling her wind to round it and then tack north to get at the rear of the convoy. She might need a couple of extra tacks, but it would not matter; it would all serve to confuse the French.
The head of the convoy was at most a mile and a half from the Juno and, as best he could judge, just coming into the extreme range of the Diamond batteries. And the wind was strengthening: the Juno was beginning to slice up spray over her larboard bow and it was drifting aft in dancing rainbow patterns. The gun captains were putting aprons over the locks, small canvas bonnets that would keep them dry until the last moment.