Ramage and the Renegades r-12

by Dudley Pope

  'So far all we've done is look at her,' Ramage said sourly. 'Are you sure about the number of guards in the ships?'

  'Yes, four in each. What's Bowen report on the Earl of Dodsworth?'

  'Eight guards for sixteen passengers.'

  'Ah, Army officers going on leave! The privateersmen are wary of those in John Company's military service. A few wild subalterns will not take kindly to being prisoners.'

  'Good thinking,' Ramage said, irritated that he had not worked it out for himself. 'But why not keep them on shore with the seamen?'

  Southwick sniffed, a slightly patronizing sniff that Ramage, who could have answered his own question a moment after he had spoken it, knew only too well: it said, without uttering a word, that 'old Southwick' knew most of the answers. He often did, too, which was why the sniff infuriated every officer in the Calypso.

  Very well, the Company's military officers were being kept on board the Earl of Dodsworth because it was easier to guard prisoners locked in a cabin than kept in a tent among a few score seamen. The passenger cabins of a John Company ship were substantial, probably mahogany; the cabins of a man of war were canvas stretched over light wooden frames . . .

  The bosun, lying comfortable along the barrel of the fourth gun on the starboard side, proffered his slate but Ramage, glimpsing the sprawling writing, said: 'Tell me in your own words.'

  'Well, this Heliotrope –'he pronounced the name correctly, having listened to his orders from Aitken, but spoke it with the distaste of a bishop's wife referring at breakfast to an errant curate, '- has four privateersmen on board as guards, an' six passengers - two men and two women and two children, a boy an' a girl. Guards armed with cutlasses. No muskets. Perhaps pistols but I couldn't see any. Passengers kept aft - probably in their own cabins. They pump the ship once an hour for about ten minutes. All French ships leak, so it's nothing to worry about. Sails furled, sheets, tacks and braces rove... s'about all, sir.'

  It was very good, considering the bosun had no telescope.

  'Did they pump while the prisoners were on deck?'

  'No, sir: they brought up the women and children first and exercised 'em: then pumped; then brought the men up. They're due to pump again any minute.'

  The gunner, the only man in the ship Ramage disliked and regarded as incompetent, but did nothing about changing, had kept a sharp lookout on the remaining ship, the French Commerce. 'No prisoners brought up while I've been watching, sir. Four privateersmen just walking about and leaning on the taffrail, spitting. Not all at once; I've distinguished four different men. Seem to have no duties; one comes on deck and looks round, then I don't see anyone for half an hour.'

  As they walked back to the quarterdeck, Aitken said to Ramage: 'The Earl of Dodsworth seems their prize of prizes, then the Amethyst, Heliotrope and Friesland rank equal.'

  Roughly one guard to two hostages, Ramage noted. Tomás and Hart were not making idle threats about murdering them if necessary: each guard would have a pistol and a cutlass...

  He left Aitken on the quarterdeck watching Martin's progress sounding towards the second rock. He saw the other two boats lying to grapnels off the beach, so the two surveying parties should be at work. Ramage sat down at his desk with a sigh and pulled his notes towards him. He wrote a second page, naming the five ships, and listing the number of passengers and guards. Then he added up the totals - forty passengers (seventeen women, twenty-one men and two children) and twenty-four guards.

  Assuming the five ships had the usual number of officers and men, there would be sixty-five or seventy officers and men being guarded on shore, and given that there was no suitable building, this would be the biggest task for the privateersmen - unless . . . Ramage's stomach shrivelled at the idea: unless all those officers, petty officers and seamen had been warned that any attempt at escape would mean the massacre of the passengers. That would explain why the passengers were under guard in the ships and the crews on shore when the Calypso arrived. The passengers were already the hostages; it had taken no stroke of genius to tell the Calypso what they had already told the crews of their prizes.

  Ramage was just realizing the hopelessness of his position when he thought of the second privateer, due in any day with more prizes. More ships, more passengers, more guards, and her own crew to reinforce the Lynx's men watching the prisoners on shore. There was no reason to suppose she would be less successful than the Lynx, so any day now there could be another five prizes here, with forty-eight guards watching eighty hostages . . . Enough privateersmen with enough hostages, Ramage realized - and wished he had gone on halfpay, as Gianna had wanted - to force the Calypso to surrender. And he knew, without giving it a moment's more thought, that the instant Tomás or Hart demanded the surrender of the Calypso as the price for not massacring eighty hostages, he would agree. He had no choice, although no court martial could ever agree because none of the captains forming the court would ever believe that Tomás and Hart would carry out their threat. One had to see both men's eyes to understand that: they were both outcasts from the human race by their own choice. In wartime, privateers with genuine letters of marque were permitted, but privateersmen who, when the peace came, made the coldblooded decision to become pirates and prey on ships of all nationalities, were turning their backs on civilization; they were quite deliberately striding into the jungle, and no naval captain sitting at a table in the great cabin of one of the King's ships listening to the evidence against Captain Ramage on several charges - he heard an echo of the crazy voice of the Invincible's captain - would understand, or even think of, the law of the jungle.

  'But what made you think. Captain Ramage, that, ah, the privateersmen, would carry out their threat to murder the hostages?'

  'The look in their eyes.'

  'So you thereupon surrendered His Majesty's frigate the Calypso, and her ship's company?'

  'Yes, sir."

  'Because of the look in a privateersman's eye?'

  It sounded ludicrous and it sounded unbelievable, and he could hear the knowing laughs of the other members of the court. There would be pressure, too, from the Honourable East India Company, who would probably be smarting from the loss of the Earl of Dodsworth - the underwriters might well not pay out for a ship lost to pirates in peacetime: Indiamen were armed to beat off pirates in the Eastern seas, but the Earl of Dodsworth did not expect to find an enemy this side of the Equator. Along the Malabar coast, yes, every John Company ship expected to find pirates there, but not in the middle of the South Atlantic.

  There is only one way out of it, he thought miserably. Boarding parties will have to swim over on a dark night and deal with the guards.

  Suddenly he sat up. There were enough swimmers in the ship's company. It might work - it depended how often the guards were inspected by people from the Lynx. It would take a day or two of observation to find out.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The first survey boat to come back, commanded by Wagstaffe and with Williams's party, carried two excited men: Garret and Wilkins both came up to Ramage, who was walking up and down the quarterdeck hoping a practical plan would suddenly emerge from the tiderace of ideas coursing through his mind.

  Garret's grey hair looked as though it was going to compete with Southwick's white mop, and his boots were dusty and his breeches torn. 'Splendid, splendid!' he exclaimed. 'There's water, and anyway I estimate there's enough rainfall for the crops we want to plant.'

  'What about clearing land?'

  'Several flat areas - we'll need a few men to cut down some bushes, but I recommend burning. Burn and then dig. A few heavy showers and then we can plant. Then we can go home!'

  Ramage turned to Wilkins. 'I trust your notebooks are full!'

  'Full enough,' Wilkins said. 'The sight of the ships anchored in the bay. Why, we could see a big reef lying along here -' he pointed over the larboard side. 'If we'd gone outside the prizes, we'd have run into it. A wonderful effect it gives, seen from the hills. It'll be a challenge to g
et it on to canvas.'

  'The Irish potatoes will do well,' Garret said, as though he had been spending the time Wilkins was talking coming to a decision about it. 'Not sure about the sweet potatoes, though.'

  'The sailors will shed no tears if you can't make the yams grow,' Ramage said. 'They were brought up on Irish potatoes and most of them hate yams. Same goes for soldiers, I imagine. I mean, they'll hate yams,' he added for the sake of the literal-minded botanist.

  'What about the wild life?' he asked both men.

  Wilkins grimaced and Garret said: 'Very little that we saw. Some turtles. The land birds you'd expect (and very tame), the usual sea birds of course, but no sign of coneys. I'd have expected some wild dogs - a couple landed from a ship would breed and quickly turn wild - but saw none. Signs of goats, but they're a mixed blessing because they rip out everything.'

  Wagstaffe said: 'I saw half a dozen tortoises walking about, and a turtle swimming near the beach, so we might catch one to give us a tasty dinner, sir. There is a fantastic amount of fish.'

  Wilkins interrupted excitedly: 'The water is so clear you could see them from the boat, especially round rocks. I've never seen fish like them before - bright colours, gaudy designs, odd shapes.'

  Garret shook his head mournfully. 'All colour and no taste, typical tropical fish. Same in the Mediterranean; the French disguise the lack of taste with spicy sauces. Hot water fish has to end up as a foreign kickshaw, I say. You can't beat cold water fish for taste. And I know the captain agrees with me.'

  It would be a brave man who disagreed with Garret, Ramage thought, but the botanist was right and he nodded, remembering too late that Garret was in fact repeating a comment of his.

  He beckoned to Williams, who hurried up the quarterdeck ladder, dusty yet happy, like a man who had had a successful day's rough shooting.

  'Did you see enough today to set your draughtsmen to work?'

  The Welshman waved a handful of papers he was carrying. 'There's a week's work for them here, sir, and I expect White has as much or more.'

  'What have you done today, then?'

  'We've established where the signal station will be. Mr Renwick and Mr Wagstaffe agree on it, and we are using that as the base for all our calculations. We agreed on the site for two batteries, covering this bay, and one at the signal station. All subject to your approval, sir,' he added hurriedly.

  'If Mr Renwick approves, I'm sure I shall,' Ramage said, reminding himself that the gunner, the one man whose opinion should have been of most value, was in fact keeping watch on the French Commerce - precisely because everyone knew that his opinion, if he could ever be persuaded or trapped into expressing it, would be worthless.

  He caught sight of Rossi and Stafford walking forward and called to the maindeck: 'Pass the word for Mr Martin and Mr Orsini.'

  The fourth lieutenant arrived first, the skin of his face red from the day's sun, his hat having protected his brow so that his hair seemed to be sprouting from a white skull cap. Ramage guessed the sunburn was painful; the skin of Martin's face seemed stiff and his eyes were bloodshot.

  'A successful day's soundings, Martin?'

  'I was just coming to report, sir. Yes, four fathoms over most of the inner half of the bay, we've sounded round that reef on our larboard beam. I have the depths where the privateer's anchored, and depths close to the nearest prize to her, the Commerce.'

  'Was the privateer at all suspicious?'

  'No, sir. Some of the men gave us a wave as we passed them soon after we began; otherwise they took no notice. I let the men make plenty of noise and sing out the soundings, so there was no doubt what we were doing.'

  'Where's Orsini?' Ramage asked impatiently, for no reason other than to relieve an impatience which was born of frustration. The Calypsos are going to have to pay for what should be charged to the Lynx, he thought sourly.

  'He took his quadrant below to wipe off the salt spray and clean the shades and mirrors, sir. There was plenty of spray about. Er, there seems to be about thirty men on board the privateer.'

  ' "About"?'

  Martin, suddenly remembering how the captain hated vagueness, said hurriedly: 'We counted thirty-six during the morning. I recognized the men who came on board yesterday. The tall man and the Negro were walking together for five minutes, watching our survey parties landing. They did not seem very interested and didn't bother to look with a glass.'

  Twenty-four guards in the prizes, thirty-six men in the Lynx. He still reckoned she would carry a round hundred. So forty men must be on shore guarding the officers and seamen taken from the prizes. Forty to guard a hundred? Anyway, how and where were the Lynx men keeping their prisoners?

  Wagstaffe was walking towards him. He saluted and said: 'I waited because I saw one of the surveyors was describing his work.'

  'Yes, I've heard about the potato patch. Tell me about the prisoners.'

  'Well, you can't see from here, sir, but just southeast from where we landed that line of hills goes round in a tight circle to make a sort of amphitheatre. All the prisoners are camped in the bottom with the guards round the top looking down on them. Both guards and prisoners have rigged up scraps of canvas to make awnings. The prisoners cook over a fireplace made up of rocks.'

  'What are the chances of escaping?'

  'None, sir: the only way out is over the rim, which means climbing up the side of the hills. There are only a few bushes and rocks. We counted about forty guards.'

  Ramage nodded, thankful that the details he had so far did not rule out the sketchy plan beginning to take shape in his mind. 'By the way,' he told Wagstaffe, 'you'll have to make do tomorrow without Stafford and Rossi, and any other good swimmers.'

  Soon after dawn next morning the sentry called that Aitken was at the door of Ramage's cabin and a moment later the first lieutenant arrived holding a sheet of paper.

  'The list of swimmers you asked for, sir. I started with the twenty men you gave prizes to in Gibraltar. I didn't expect the five-times-round-the-Calypso race to have results a year later! If you remember, sir, Renwick won, Martin was second, Rossi third, Orsini and Jackson tied for fourth position and the gunner nearly drowned!'

  'And five guineas cost me six,' Ramage said.

  Aitken grinned at the memory. 'Ah yes, the judge's interpretation of "the first five positions", and nothing being laid down about ties.'

  'Yes, Judge Aitken and his interpretation of Scottish law! Well, what sort of list do we have?'

  'The totals are quite good, sir. Twenty-three are powerful swimmers, fourteen more are good for a steady mile, another eight are fine for a fast half-mile but no good over a long distance, while sixty-eight are weak but can swim. In fact all but fifteen of the ship's company can swim. Of the supernumeraries, one draughtsman, Garret, and the four masons can't swim at all. Wilkins is a powerful swimmer - I've seen him, and when I spoke to him this morning he asked if you'd consider him for - well, whatever you have in mind.'

  'Oh, just another swimming competition,' Ramage said innocently. 'I thought we could practise on the larboard side.'

  'Yes, we'll be out of sight of the privateersmen and the prizes, so the women hostages won't be offended at the sight of dozens of naked seamen splashing about.'

  'Exactly,' Ramage said, 'I want a boarding net slung over the side, so the men can hold on to it when they want a rest. And three or four Marines with muskets, in case of sharks.'

  'Aye aye, sir,' Aitken said, thankful that the first moves were being taken against the privateersmen.

  'And Aitken,' Ramage said quietly, 'don't look so cheerful. I'd just as soon have everyone looking miserable. It shows with a good telescope, you know, and we'd better assume those scoundrels Tomás and Hart are keeping an eye on us. A cheerful man has a jaunty walk. Those scoundrels think that none of the Calypsos have anything to be jaunty about - the officers, anyway.'

  'I understand, sir,' Aitken said. 'I can get very miserable at the mere thought of our problems, let alone solvin
g them.'

  'That's the spirit,' Ramage said, 'looking sad may keep us alive - and those passengers too.'

  He folded Aitken's list of swimmers and put it in his pocket, after taking out another folded sheet of paper which he smoothed out on top of his desk and gestured to Aitken to come across and look at.

  The first lieutenant was puzzled by what he saw. 'A raft, sir, or one of those South Sea things? A proa, isn't that the word?'

  'A cross between the two. Two stout pieces of wood form the floats, and light planks join them and make a sort of deck. And an eyebolt at each end - one for towing, the other for steering.'

  'Ah, yes sir,' Aitken said, obviously puzzled not by the raft but by its purpose. 'About -' he looked at the dimensions which Ramage had scribbled in '- five feet long and two and a half feet wide.'

  'I want two, each with eyebolts,' Ramage said.

  'Indeed, with eyebolts,' the Scotsman echoed and then looked up. He smiled and said: 'Maybe I could better explain to the carpenter what's needed if I understood its purpose, sir.'

  'I'm sure you would,' Ramage said and explained it.

  As the rising sun neared the horizon in the east, Ramage went up to the quarterdeck and watched the island turn from a vague grey blur into a heavily-shadowed shape that Wilkins would no doubt call an exercise in the use of black. A sudden movement by the taffrail made Ramage swing round, to be startled by the sight of Wilkins himself perched on the breech of a carronade, legs astride the barrel, a pad in one hand and a stick of charcoal in the other.

  'Good morning to you. Captain,' the artist said breezily. 'Sorry I made you jump. I hope you don't mind me making free with your quarterdeck, but these fat carronades are more comfortable than the 12-pounders.'

  'Go wherever you wish. What are you doing now?'

  'A study for a dawn painting of the island, with the prizes in the foreground. Curious how you can really only see the shape of hilly or mountainous land when the sun is low, rising or setting.'

  'Yes, a high sun washes out the shapes,' Ramage said.