"Yes." Pascoe swayed but kept his voice level. "A warrant officer."
Allday found time to marvel at Pascoe's quick thinking after what he had just endured. The Spaniard seemed content with the lie. If they were to be separated now, there was no chance of escape, if chance there was.
"Good." Capitan San Martin smiled. "You are very young, Teniente. I am right therefore to suppose that you were not alone? That you are from an English ship, eh?" He held up his hand in the same tired gesture. "I know. You are an officer and bound to your oath. That I respect. In any case, the question must have an obvious answer."
Pascoe said hoarsely, "My men, Capitan. Could you order your soldiers to take care of them."
The Spaniard seemed to consider it. "In good time. But for the moment you and I have matters to discuss. " He pointed to his tent. "Within. The sun is cursed hot today."
Inside it was cool, and as Allday's eyes grew accustomed to the shaded interior he realised he was walking on a thick carpet. After the rough road it was like a gentle balm for his tom and blistered feet.
San Martin remarked, "I see from your back that you had some rough handling on your way." He shrugged. "They are ignorant savages. But good fighters. My grandfather used to hunt them for sport." It seemed to amuse him. "But we must change with the times."
An orderly brought some goblets and began to fill them with wine.
San Martin nodded. 'sit down, if you wish. You are now prisoners of war. I suggest you make the most of my hospitality." He smiled again. "I was once a captive of the English, and exchanged a year back. I learned to improve my understanding of your people, as well as the language."
Pascoe began, "I must insist, sir-"
He got no further. San Martin stared up at the roof of the tent and shouted, "Do not insist with me, Teniente!" The sudden effort brought a rash of sweat across his features. "I have but to say the word and I can make you vanish! How do you enjoy that" eh? Those animals you saw out there working on the road and defences are criminals, who but for the urgency of this task would be in their rightful places, chained to the oars of a galley or rotting on gibbets. I could have you flung amongst them, Teniente! How would you like to eke out your life chained to a great sweep, sitting in your own filth and living hour by hour to the beat of a drum, the lash of a whip, eh?" He was almost beside himself. "You would have very little time to insist, that I promise you!"
Allday saw the soldier with the wine bottle shaking badly. He was obviouslv used to his master's violent outbursts.
He continued more calmly, "Your ship, or ships perhaps, are in our waters to do us some harm." He gave a slow smile. "Your commander, do I know of him?"
He did not wait for answer but strode from the tent. Pascoe whispered quickly, "He does not know about the schooner."
"To hell with the schooner, Mr. Pascoe. What will you tell him?
Before he could reply the Spanish captain was back again. With great care he laid a loop of stout cord on the table and stood back to examine it.
"You will see that it is joined at both ends." He sounded matter of fact. "There are two large knots in it, here and here." He tapped it with his finger. "A circle of pain. Our inquisitors found it of some use for obtaining confessions of guilt in the Americas, I believe." He looked hard at Pascoe. "If I had this placed around your head, each of the knots would fit against an eye. By twisting the cord from behind, tighter and tighter, I am assured the agony is unbearable." He picked up the cord and threw it to the orderly. "And of course, the climax comes when both eyes are forced from their sockets. "He snapped an order to his orderly who almost ran from the tent. "Like grapes."
Allday exclaimed hoarsely, "You’ll not let those devils use it on our lads!"
I have told you!" San Martin's face was working with emotion. "You are prisoners of war. You will be treated as such while you are under my guard." He sat down, his chest working painfully. "Now drink your wine."
Allday dropped his goblet as a terrible shriek echoed round the tent. As Pascoe made for the entrance two pistols appeared in San Martin's hands as if by magic.
'stand! It is not one of your wretched sailors! It is only a prisoner. The effect will be the same after they have watched his pain!"
San Martin's eyes remained as still as the two pistols as he studied Pascoe's horrified face. The terrible screams continued for what seemed like an hour, but when they ceased the sound remained in the tent like a curse from hell.
San Martin replaced the pistols in his belt and said, 'sailors talk a great deal. I will go now. Do not try to leave the tent or I will have you killed." He picked up his hat and banged dust from its yellow plume. "When I have spoken to the sailors I will know about your ships, and probably much more as well."
The tent seemed very silent after he had gone.
Pascoe sank down on to the carpet and retched uncomfortably. "He's right."
Allday watched his despair, the quiver of his blistered shoulders as he tried to control himself.
"No one but a fool would stay voiceless after being made to watch that torture."
The Spanish captain, true to his promise, was back within an hour. He seated himself on one comer of a brass-bound chest and said calmly, "One of your men was very willing to speak with me." He smiled sadly. "Do not look so troubled, Teniente. Mine would sell my very soul if they were in the same position." He became formal. "Your ships have been in these waters for over a week, yes? You are sailing to spy upon the French, our ally. Such matters are not my concern. My orders are to command over these dogs until the bay is properly defended." He tapped his chin with the rim of a wine goblet. "I did discover one piece of news which may be of use to those better placed to use it. Your ships took a Spanish vessel." His mouth twisted with sudden fury. "Those fools who brought you here were so drunk with their victory they allowed a ship to be stolen from under their noses!"
Allday thought of the knotted cord and could almost feel pity for the senior horseman with the whip.
As if to confirm his thoughts, San Martin snapped, "It will not happen again!"
He calmed himself with an effort. "No matter. Your war is over. I will have you transported to more er, secure quarters where you can be held in accordance with your station. "He eyed them dully. "I will send for some food."
He was obviously disinterested in matters relating to any ship, friend or foe, now that he had attended to his prisoners.
Two armed soldiers escorted them to a nearby tent, and a short time later the same orderly brought a basket of bread and fruit and a large earthenware jug of coarse wine.
Pascoe said bitterly, "Then it's over, Allday. We’ll not see England for a long while." He looked away. "If ever." Allday stood by the tent flap, careful not to show himself to the sentry outside.
He replied, "Nothing's over yet." He added grimly, "Be thankful for one thing. That gibbering seaman who spoke with the Don was one of Cap" n Javal" s men. They all were in our party."
Pascoe looked up at him. "What difference does it make?" Allday walked from the flap and poured a mug of wine.
"Any Lysander would have known you to be the commodore's nephew." He saw the shot go home. "Think what the Don would have made of that, eh? They"d have used you as something to bargain with maybe." Pascoe stared at him. "I am sorry. I did not think."