"They look quiet enough, sir, " Jackson murmured.
"Glad to see us, even though they can see from our colours it means they'll be taken prisoner. Better that than drifting all the way to the Mosquito Coast."
Jackson snapped an order to the oarsmen and a moment later the bowman had hooked on with a boathook and the boat was rising and falling alongside the ship. Ramage jammed his hat on his head, swung his sword round out of the way, and leapt for the rope ladder hanging down the ship's side.
The men who met him on deck were unshaven, their faces drawn with weariness and despair. Behind them the wheel spun uselessly and in several places the deck planking was stove in where yards had crashed down. On the starboard side the bulwarks were jagged, sections crushed by the weight of the falling yards.
One of the men stepped forward. He was solidly built and in better times he obviously had a cheerful face. Now his skin was grey from fatigue and his eyes rimmed with red.
"I am the master of this ship, " he said nervously.
Ramage nodded and answered in Spanish. "You are now prize to his Britannic Majesty's ship Jocasta."
"But - well, when we first saw you we thought you were a Spanish frigate, La Perla."
By now the Marines had followed Ramage up the ladder and were spreading round the deck, covering the Spanish crew with their muskets. He decided to leave the Spanish master puzzled for the time being; first he wanted to find out about the "particular cargo".
"Show me the ship's papers, " he said, and followed when the Spaniard pointed to the companionway.
The cabin was comfortable; it had a good deal of mahogany panelling and the furnishings were tasteful. The master went to his desk and unlocked a drawer.
"The log and the ship's papers, " he said, placing them on the desk and shutting the drawer again. Ramage saw that he was very nervous; his movements were jerky and his upper lip was beaded with perspiration. It was hot down here in the cabin, but that was the perspiration of nervousness, not heat.
"Manifests, bills of lading ...?" Ramage asked.
"We had not completed loading."
"You are wasting my time, " Ramage said impatiently. "You know what I am looking for. I can set my seamen to work searching through the holds until we find it, but unless you want to be left on board this wreck until you drift to the Mosquito Coast, I suggest you cooperate."
"Senor, I dare not ..."
"The papers are in that desk. Do you want me to have you seized so that I can get them out?"
The man finally shrugged his shoulders, took another key from his pocket and unlocked the bottom drawer. Slowly he took out a sheaf of papers and put them on top of the desk. Ramage saw that he could not bring himself to push them across; that would be handing them over to the enemy. He reached over and took them.
There were two or three dozen sheets of paper and most of them had at least one large seal. He began to leaf through them, intending to look for any that came from Panama. Half of them bore the seals of the office of the Viceroy of the Indies and the rest had the seals and signatures of the Captain-General of the Province of Caracas. They referred to two separate consignments of cargo.
Then he found copies of receipts, notarized and signed by the master of the ship. They said that he had received the consignments on board, and described what they were. Ramage felt dizzy as he read the words again, and the quantities. He glanced up at the master, who was watching him like a rabbit paralysed by the eyes of a weasel.
"Where is it stowed?" he asked.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
As the Jocasta glided through the entrance to English Harbour Ramage saw the Invincible at anchor in Freeman's Bay with two frigates farther up towards the careening wharf. Jackson began calling out the numbers of a signal from the flagship, and Paolo was busy with the signal book.
Southwick said suddenly: "Look, sir: the Invincible's men are swarming up the rigging! "
Was she about to get under way? Ramage trained his telescope on the fo'c'sle of the flagship. No, there were no men there, so she could not be weighing anchor. The men continued climbing the rigging; then some spread out along the lower yards while others carried on upwards, to go out on the topsail and topgallant yards, looking at this distance like starlings on the branches of three trees.
"They're manning the yards! " Southwick exclaimed.
"What on earth for?" Ramage muttered anxiously, trying to remember if it was the King's or Queen's birthday, or one of the half a dozen other days when salutes were fired. He saw both Aitken and Southwick staring at him.
"They might be glad to see the Jocasta coming back, ” Southwick said, barely troubling to keep the irony out of his voice.
Now Paolo was reading out the signaclass="underline" the Jocasta was to anchor to the north-west of the flagship -just in front of the masked battery, Ramage noted. A moment later Jackson was reporting another signal that had been hoisted by the flagship with the Calypso's numbers.
"Well, what is it?" Ramage asked Paolo impatiently.
"She's to anchor to the south-east of the flagship, sir.”
The Admiral was gathering the frigates round him like a hen collecting her chicks.
"The batteries, sir! " Southwick exclaimed and Ramage glanced up to the walls of Fort Barclay, built along the top of the western arm of the entrance. Rows of red-coated soldiers were standing to attention.
There was no more time to think about all that. "Stand by for anchoring, Mr Southwick, " he snapped, and the Master hurried to the fo'c'sle.
Ramage picked up the speaking trumpet, gave an order to the quartermaster and began shouting the sequence of orders for trimming the Jocasta’s yards round and bringing her to the position for anchoring.
The ship was a hundred yards from the Invincible when it started: a stentorian "Hip, hip" followed by five hundred voices bellowing "Hurrah! "
Birds wheeled up in alarm as the cheer echoed off the hills on either side of the anchorage and a few moments later came a second cheer, and then a third. What on earth does one do? Ramage could only recall the yards being manned to cheer a departing commander-in-chief, who usually stood on the quarterdeck saluting.
He glanced astern to see that the Calypso was through the entrance under topsails only and already bearing up to anchor south of the Invincible. He looked forward again to make sure the cable was ranged on deck. The anchor was clear, the topmen waiting. Aitken was beside the binnacle and calling out the bearing of the flagship. Ramage lifted the speaking trumpet to his lips. Every man in English Harbour was watching, from the Admiral to the most heavy-footed soldier in the island's garrison; this was not the time to make a mistake in what the seamanship books referred to as "Bringing the ship to anchor".
Fifteen minutes later, with her topsails furled and riding to a single anchor, the Jocasta looked like any other frigate in English Harbour. The boatswain was being rowed round in one of her boats, giving signals to ensure the yards were square. A second boat had been hoisted out and Jackson was inspecting its crew, making sure their queues were neatly tied and that their shirts and trousers were clean.
Ramage came up on deck with his best uniform, his sword slung, a canvas pouch of papers under his arm. The anchor buoy had hardly hit the water before the flagship had hoisted another signal for the Jocasta, ordering her commanding officer to come on board. They had sharp eyes on the flagship, spotting that he was not in the Calypso.
The Admiral's cabin was cool, and the Admiral watched impatiently as Ramage paused to unlace the canvas pouch and take out several papers.