Rivers exclaimed, 'What good can that do? Not one of her guns can even scratch these walls!' But he sounded less forceful, as if, like Bolitho, the sound of Achates running out her guns on both broadsides had released a memory.
'Do you have a telescope, Sir Humphrey?'
It was difficult to stay calm when every fibre made him want to charge at the gates and smash them down with his bare fists.
Rivers was already peering through a glass towards the motionless ship. Achates' total stillness made it somehow unnerving. Each sail neatly furled, not a soul moving above the black and buff hull.
Bolitho said, 'You will see a man in the mainmast cross-trees, a lieutenant to be exact. He too will have a telescope this morning, Sir Humphrey. Trained inland towards your house and estate.'
Rivers said, 'Don't play for time!'
'And after that, the town, Sir Humphrey, until not even a stone stands on end.'
The roar when it came was tremendous, thrown back from Achates' hidden side by the land, so that it echoed and re-echoed around the fortress as if the battery there had already opened fire.
Bolitho twisted round to watch the dense smoke moving away from the ship towards the shore, where moments earlier many people had been waiting to see the uneven battle.
Aboard ship Keen's officers would be passing instructions to the capstans, another turn on the massive warp to swing the ship further still towards the target.
He saw the scar on Achates' tumblehome where the first ball had found a mark. It was nothing to what heated shot would do.
A small pendant rose smartly to Achates' main-yard and flapped in the breeze.
Bolitho said flatly, 'The next broadside is laid and ready. It is your decision.'
Behind him he heard Christy murmur, 'Gawd.'
Allday said, 'The cavalry are comin', sir.'
Bolitho saw the cluster of horsemen cantering along the track which led from the town. They looked unruly, startled probably by the sudden blast of cannon fire. Mercenaries, local planters, militiamen, it did not matter. If they took control of the road and captured Bolitho's party it would mean another change of fortunes.
A bugle blared briefly and Bolitho saw the files of scarlet-coated marines emerge from the brush where they had lain in hiding and prepared for this final moment.
He saw the glitter of sunlight on the fixed bayonets, and could imagine Dewar and his lieutenant receiving the reports of the seasoned professionals like Sergeant Saxton.
The horses had gathered speed, the dust spewing away from the hoofs in a solid bank.
There was a ragged volley of shots, and Bolitho felt a cold grip in his stomach as three of the tiny scarlet figures fell across the track.
The marines seemed to take an eternity, the front rank kneeling beside their dead comrades while the rear rank took aim above their heads. More shots. This time it was a small drummer who fell.
Allday gasped, 'Jesus, why don't they shoot, damn them!'
Dewar's blade flashed down and the crash of muskets seemed as if a single shot had been fired.
Horses and men tumbled in confusion, but when the smoke cleared from the hillside the scarlet lines were unchanged. The horsemen were returning to the town, their dead and wounded left to their own resources.
Christy said fiercely, 'The gates are openin', sir!'
It was over. In twos and threes, and then in a flood, the fortress's garrison hurried into the sunlight, dropping their weapons as they ran.
Last of all came Rivers, swaying from side to side as if he were drunk.
But there was no slur in his voice as he faced Bolitho and said, 'I'll see you in hell for this!' He stared wildly at the lush green slope beyond the town. 'My house, my family, you fired on them without caring -
Bolitho said sharply, 'By your orders some of my men have died today.' He tried to hold his anger under control. 'And for what? Because of your greed and ambition.' He turned away, afraid he would finally lose control. 'And have no fear, Sir Humphrey. While you were prepared to burn a King's ship to her water-line and murder every man-jack aboard if need be, Captain Keen took care to keep his guns unshotted. You were defeated by smoke, nothing more.'
It should have been a proud moment but Bolitho was sickened by it.
To Allday he said, 'We shall return to the ship. Dewar's men will take charge here.'
Allday gestured towards the stricken Rivers. 'What about 'im?'
'See that he is well guarded for his own safety.'
Allday glared as two seamen seized Rivers and hustled him back towards the fortress.
Almost to himself Bolitho added, 'It is always easy for the victor to exact revenge.' Then he clapped the burly coxswain on the arm and said, 'The sea is where I belong.'
Allday breathed out very slowly. It had been a close thing that time. He shivered despite the growing warmth. Getting past it. Leave it to the youngsters after this.
The delusion cheered him slightly and he quickened his pace.
The seamen stood on either side of the track and grinned as Bolitho walked amongst them.
Bolitho knew or could guess what they were thinking. One of us. Because he was as dirty and dishevelled as they were. Because he had been with them when the bluff could so easily have gone the wrong way.
There was so much to be done. The fortress to be occupied by Dewar's marines, the islanders to be sorted and placated. Despatches to be written. Explanations to be made.
Somewhere a wounded horse screamed in agony. Like a woman in terror. Mercifully it was silenced by a pistol shot.
Bolitho paused by the place where Dewar had made his stand. The drummer-boy lay on his back, his blue eyes and pinched features frozen at the moment of impact.
Allday thought he heard Bolitho murmur, 'Too young for this game.' Then he pulled out his handkerchief and laid it on the boy's face.
One of us. It seemed to mock him as he walked through the grinning, nodding sailors who had all expected to die on this fine morning.
I lead. They follow.
He stared across at the Achates and his flag which flapped occasionally from the foremast truck.
He saw the barge idling by some rocks ready to carry him to the ship. He straightened his back and looked neither right nor left.
A lieutenant was standing in the stern-sheets, his hat in his hand. In a moment they would start to cheer. They were the victors, and that was enough for them. It had to be.
He hesitated and looked at Allday's homely face.
'Well, old friend, what are you thinking?'
Allday frowned, off-balance at this mood which he did not recognize.
Bolitho said quietly, 'I think I know anyway.' He faced the bargemen and forced a smile. 'Now let us find that other damned pirate!'
The lieutenant raised his cocked hat and the men began to cheer.
Bolitho sat down and looked at his torn breeches. One of us.
Bolitho sat in his day-cabin and sighed as Yovell placed yet another copied letter before him for signature.
The fear and thrill of their attack seemed far behind them, even though it was still less than a week since he had faced Rivers outside the fortress. Their casualties had been mercifully few and had been buried on the hillside in the island's own graveyard.
Bolitho stood up and crossed restlessly to the stern windows and leaned over the passive water of the anchorage. The sill was hot beneath his palms, the sun high above the extinct volcano.
He saw Achates' guard-boat pulling slowly and with little enthusiasm in the blinding glare and could guess what they, like most of the ship's company, were thinking.
With their governor under arrest the islanders had settled down to await events. All resistance and hostility had ceased, and some of the local militia had been resworn to assist the Royal Marines mount guard on the fortress and battery. But it went deeper. It was a passive resistance, the townspeople taking pains to look away whenever a naval working party or sea officer walked past.
