“That is one of the things I do not know, sir,” answered Hornblower with a grin. “It would not surprise me if we found out during the course of today.”
“I dare say,” said Bush; but Hornblower had swung round and was confronting a seaman who had come running up to the platform.
“What d’ye think you’re doing?”
“Bringing a fresh charge, sir,” said the man, surprised, indicating with a gesture the cartridge‑container he carried.
“Then get back and wait for the order. Get back, all of you.”
The ammunition carriers shrank back before his evident anger.
“Swab out!” ordered Hornblower to the guns’ crews, and as the wetted sponges were thrust into the muzzles he turned to Bush again. “We can’t be too careful, sir. We don’t want any chance of live charges and red‑hot shot coming together on this platform.”
“Certainly not,” agreed Bush.
He was both pleased and irritated that Hornblower should have dealt so efficiently with the organization of the battery.
“Fresh charges!” yelled Hornblower, and the ammunition carriers he had previously sent back came trotting up the ramp again. “These are English cartridges, sir, I’ll wager.”
“Why do you say that?”
“West‑Country serge, stitched and choked exactly like ours, sir. Out of English prizes, I fancy.”
It was most probable; the Spanish forces which held this end of the island against the insurgents most likely depended on renewing their stores from English ships captured in the Mona Passage. Well, with good fortune they would take no more prizes — the implication, forcing itself on Bush’s mind despite his many preoccupations, made him stir uneasily as he stood by the guns with his hands clasped behind him and the sun beating down on his face. The Dons would be in a bad way with their source of supplies cut off. They would not be able to hold out long against the rebellious blacks that hemmed them in here in the eastern end of Santo Domingo.
“Ram those wads handsomely, there, Cray,” said Hornblower. “No powder in that bore, or we’ll have ‘Cray D.D.’ in the ship’s books.”
There was a laugh at that — ‘D.D.’ in the ship’s books means ‘discharged, dead’ — but Bush was not paying attention. He had scrambled up the parapet and was staring out at the bay.
“They’re standing down by the bay,” he said. “Stand by, Mr Hornblower.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
Bush strained his sight to look at the four vessels creeping down the fairway. As he watched he saw the first one hoisting sail on both masts. Apparently she was taking advantage of a flaw of wind, blowing flukily in the confined and heated waters, to gain some of the desperately necessary distance towards the sea and safety.
“Mr Abbott, bring down that glass!” shouted Hornblower.
As Abbott descended the steps Hornblower addressed a further comment to Bush.
“If they’re making a bolt for it the moment they know we’ve got the fort it means they’re not feeling too secure over there, sir.”
“I suppose not.”
“You might have expected ’em to try and recapture the fort one way or another. They could land a force up the peninsula and come down to attack us. I wonder why they’re not trying that, sir? Why do they just unstick and run?”
“They’re only Dagoes,” said Bush. He refused to speculate further about the enemy’s motives while action was imminent, and he grabbed the glass from Abbott’s hands.
Through the telescope details were far plainer. Two large schooners with several guns a‑side; a big lugger, and a vessel whose rig they still could not determine, as she was the farthest away and, with no sail set, was towing behind her boats out from the anchorage.
“It’ll be long range, Mr Hornblower,” said Bush.
“Yes, sir. But they hit us with these same guns yesterday.”
“Make sure of your aim. They won’t be long under fire.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
The vessels were not coming down together. If they had done so they might stand a better chance, as the fort would only be able to fire on one at a time. But the panic feeling or every man for himself must have started them off as soon as each one separately could get under way — and perhaps the deep channel was too narrow for vessels in company. Now the leading schooner had taken in her sail again; the wind here, what there was of it, was foul for her when she turned to port along the channel. She had two boats out quickly enough to tow her; Bush’s telescope could reveal every detail.
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