He cocked his pistol, quietly drew his cutlass, then led the way through the opening. There was a big courtyard, most of it hidden in shadow. The castle was a hollow square with a building against the north wall which was probably used as a barracks for the garrison. A smaller building a few yards beyond was most likely the officers' quarters, while another nearby would be the kitchen. To one side, stone steps led up to the top of the wall, where the guns sat, waiting.
By now all the Marines were through the door. Rennick found the corporal and gave him his orders, then took his own section of men and whispered their instructions. He looked at his watch. Two minutes to go. He hissed a warning to the men, repeated it when a minute had gone, and then counted the remaining seconds, finishing with a "Go", when he led the rush across the square.
The corporal's section went straight to the two barrack buildings while Rennick raced to the steps. As he reached the bottom one he saw the dim outline of a man standing at the top. He knew it was hopeless to try a pistol shot in the bad light, and anyway the noise would raise the alarm quicker than a shout. The man had vanished and was shouting as Rennick rushed up the steps, all tiredness vanishing in the spasm of fear as he pictured alert men waiting to shoot him as he reached the top.
Down below there was a thudding interspersed with the sound of cutlass blades, then shouts in Spanish. Rennick reached the top of the steps and paused a moment, trying to distinguish where the sentries were. There was a flash of a musket from the western end of the wall and a shot twanged away in ricochet. The rest of the Marines streamed up the steps, but Rennick had already realized that there was only one sentry who must have bolted back from the steps to seize his musket. Now he would be gripping the empty weapon and feeling lonely and defenceless.
"Secure him! " Rennick said loudly, and looked across at El Pilar. There was no noise, no flashes. With luck the sergeant had caught the Spanish asleep there too.
He ran down the steps followed by several of his men and found that the corporal was already beginning to line up a row of sleepy but frightened prisoners. Three Marines dragged a figure from the smaller building, a man wearing a long nightshirt and clearly the commandant. He too was forced into the line, which comprised about twenty men. Yet there had been only one man on sentry duty. It had been just on the hour when the man appeared at the top of the steps, so he was probably coming down to arouse his relief.
As Rennick thought of the commandant, the man in the long nightshirt, he realized that the castle was in his hands.
"Corporal, " he called, "the lanterns! "
"They're here ready, sir."
"Light them, then put them up on the west wall! "
Three lanterns each set three feet apart on the west wall would tell the Jocasta - and the sergeant over at El Pilar - that San Antonio had been captured. Half the task was completed, and he looked round carefully before setting off to complete the other half.
He saw it in a few moments, and realized that he must have passed within a few feet of it in the rush to the steps. It was in the centre of the courtyard, and in the moonlight it looked as if it could be a well. He reached it to find a horizontal trapdoor which reminded him of a hatch in a ship. There was a padlock on it and he called for an axeman, one of the men who would, if necessary, have battered down the castle door.
A dozen well-placed strokes cut out the section of plank on which the hasp was bolted. Willing hands grabbed the door and swung it back, and Rennick saw that steps cut in rock went down into what was little more than a cave. He handed a Marine his pistol and cutlass and went down the steps. It was the magazine; stored in the cave were enough barrels of powder and cartridges to withstand a year's siege. He felt one barrel after another, and finally gave up counting before he came across bales of felt wads. Many hundredweights of powder; probably several tons. More than enough to do the job.
He called for the corporal and, after being assured that the three lanterns were in position on the west wall, helped unwind a length of slow match which the man had coiled round his waist.
Then Rennick carefully worked at the bung of one of the barrels, loosening it and finally pulling it out. He could feel the powder inside, and taking one end of the slow match he pushed it down until several inches of it were buried. Then he stepped back to the entrance of the magazine, carefully unwinding the match so that a sudden strain did not pull it away from the barrel. It had been cut to a special length, and would take half an hour to burn.
He sent the corporal up the steps first and then followed himself, patting his clothes to make sure that no loose grains of powder clung to the material.
"Now, are the prisoners ready?"
"They're under guard by the door, sir, all ready to march."
Rennick thought of the half-hour fuse. "Very well, you can start off for the beach with them. Wait by the boat for me. Leave two men on guard here. Now -" he looked round for two particular Marines "- Lumley, Rogers! Ah, there you are; come on, let's attend to those guns! "
As the corporal gave the orders which would start the prisoners down the path, Rennick ran up the steps to the guns, followed by the two Marines, each with a hammer tucked in his belt. Twenty-eight guns to spike, Rennick thought crossly, but at lhat moment he looked across the channel and saw the Jocasta emerge into the open sea. Mr Ramage would have seen the lanterns and known San Antonio was secured. What about El Pilar? He could just make out three horizontal lights on El Pilar's walls, showing that the sergeant had done his job.
As soon as Rennick reached the first gun, one of the Marines produced a small piece of steel rod, slightly tapered at one end. At an impatient gesture from Rennick he pushed the tapered end of the spike into the touchhole and gave it a gentle tap with the hammer to seat it. Then he increased the weight of the blows and the spike was slowly driven down into the touchhole, the top burring over slightly so that by the time it reached the rim of the touchhole itself it was fatter and needed one final heavy blow to drive it flush.
As they moved on to the next gun Rennick saw the Calypso gliding out of the entrance, following the Jocasta and the Santa Barbara. The entire Spanish naval strength of Santa Cruz, he thought idly, was now outside the harbour, prisoners of the Royal Navy, and the town slept peacefully.
The second Marine was now busy hammering home spikes, starting with the guns overlooking the channel. Rennick checked each man's work and finally watched the last spike being driven home. The Spanish would find it difficult to bore out these rivets so that the guns could be used again, but spiking was not an absolutely sure way of wrecking a gun, even if done carefully. Mr Ramage had refused him permission to put a double-charge of powder and three round shot in each gun, a degree of overloading that usually blew the barrel apart like ripping the skin from a ripe banana.
Rennick led the way down the steps to the courtyard, which was now deserted except for the two sentries guarding the magazine. He was carrying one of the lanterns, which he put down well clear of the entrance.
"Lumley, " he said, "give me a hand here, and you others go and wait by the gate, though you won't be far enough away if I make a mistake! "
The slow match came up the steps from the magazine like a thin snake. Rennick reached down and unwound the rest of it, leading it to windward of the entrance in as direct a line as possible - a sharp kink sometimes made it go out, and it was all too easy to run it through a puddle without noticing it.