Authors: John Drake
"Señor Capitán!" he said, then added in Spanish: "How long till we man the boats?"
"Soon enough, Señor Teniente," said Silver. He pointed ahead: "There's the anchorage. We shall get as close to the stairs as we can."
"The stairs," said Burillo, nodding. He drew a glass and looked ahead. "I see," said he. "That is how our men shall scale these cliffs -" he pointed at the greasy, near-vertical river banks that loomed up to the height of the mainyard.
"Aye," said Silver, smiling, but speaking English which Burillo could not understand, "'cos they can't
fly
up, the bastards, can they?" He turned to Israel Hands, and the smile vanished. "And you can take that soddin' look off your face. I've saved all hands by this, my cocker!"
"But ain't we going to do something?" said Israel Hands, and he looked at the hatchways, each of them guarded by Spanish soldiers in seamen's clothes. Below decks there were two hundred and fifty men, crammed in tight, with their arms and ammunition, waiting for the order to swarm into the longboat. They'd planned it, and they'd rehearsed it as a drill under Peña-Castillo's watchful eye. They'd grown quick and clever at doing it, and with such numbers of them aboard,
Walrus
was trapped in the Spanish fist, with just enough of her own people still free to work the ship.
"John," said Israel Hands, "we're giving up Savannah to the Spanish."
"Go fuck yourself, Israel," said Silver, exasperated. "Didn't I get all hands aboard? Didn't I argue with that Spaniard when he wanted to keep our shipmates as hostages aboard his ship? Didn't I say it was all or none?"
"Aye, but our shipmates are down below, in chains."
"D'you want 'em
banging
in chains, and dipped in tar?" said Silver, then he nodded at Selena and Mr Joe: "You two ain't bothered, are you?" he said.
Selena shook her head. "I was a slave in Georgia," she said, "and a slave in South Carolina. And in Virginia I had to come and go by the back door! What do I care about these people? Let the Spanish have them!"
"Aye," said Mr Joe, "English or Spanish, they treat me just the same."
"I know," said Israel, and he placed a hand on Mr Joe's arm. "I know, my lad, and bad luck to every bugger what did you down. But that's the flag of England there," he said, pointing to the big red ensign at the stern. "John," he pleaded, "don't that mean nothing?"
But Silver wasn't listening. He'd focused his glass on the row of onlookers that always crowded the landing at Savannah when a ship came in with a prize. Word would go round and the most powerful and important citizens would shove their way to the head of the stairs to see what business promised.
Walrus
was coming up to the anchorage now, with the hands aloft taking in sail, and the bosun's crew standing by to let go anchors… and Silver could see faces through his glass now: faces and figures among the well-fed, well-dressed men, with their sunshades held by slaves behind them, and their hats off fanning their faces in the humid heat. But one face - one smooth and smiling face - stood out from all others.
"Flint!" he said.
Flint laughed and chatted among his new friends: Mr President Chester and all those others who clung to Chester's coat-tails at moments like this. They were "leather-apron men" mostly: a locksmith, a baker and a printer. But among them was Colonel Bland.
Then Flint pointed downriver.
"See, gentlemen," he said. "He comes at last!"
"Ah!" said Chester.
"Ah!" said the rest.
And all these good friends looked at the sharp-nosed vessel coming upriver with her prize astern of her, most knowing enough of ships to recognise the schooner
Walrus,
under command of the one-legged John Silver with his green bird, and his half-share of a colossal secret.
"You're sure he'll have it, Mr Flint?" said Chester quietly.
"Oh yes!" said Flint. "He'll never be parted from it."
And now, there they stood: the consortium united, greedy for gold, surrounded by the innocent chattering folk of Savannah, and glancing from time to time towards the new battery at the very edge of the river bank, where five eighteen- pounders were comfortably seated behind timber-revetted earthworks on planked emplacements, complete with all tackles and crew, bearing directly down upon the anchorage opposite the landing stairs, where any incoming ship would want to anchor.
The battery had been built against the Spanish, but today it splendidly complemented the precautions taken to receive Captain Silver and his crew, who were believed to number some seventy men, all of them desperate villains and armed to the teeth. Against that peril, the garrison's men were mustered out of sight, in the fort, while a most formidable warrant of arrest, drawn up in the name of the Assembly of the Royal Colony of Georgia, was sitting in a leather satchel borne by a little slave boy who stood behind Mr President Chester.
Thus all things were perfect: the sun shone, the flies buzzed and the waters chuckled. And then a little tickle of doubt…
"Look!" said Chester, peering at the oncoming ships.
"Walrus
is towing a longboat. Why should she do that?"
"Give me that!" said Flint, snatching a big telescope from Chester's slave boy who carried that instrument, among other baggage. "Hmmm…" said Flint, and for the first time he caught sight of the big boat towed astern of
Walrus.
"Too big a boat for
Walrus
or the prize brig," he said. "And, hallo… the brig's towing a longboat too!"
"Why should they do that?" said Chester.
"I don't know," said Flint. "More important: where did they get them? Those are such boats as belong to men o' war: ships too strong for
Walrus
to tackle!" Flint peered down the telescope and his quick mind sought an explanation, for he was indeed one who never trusted his own mother's milk - not
that
or anything else about her - and he did indeed see suspicion everywhere: he saw suspicion, betrayal, lies and deceit. For, like the Emperor Nero, Flint believed all others to be as base as himself.
"Perhaps they
found
the boats?" said Chester. Flint sneered, "Or perhaps…"
Flint ignored him.
"Colonel Bland!" he said.
"Mr Flint?"
"Are the guns of your battery loaded?"
"They are, sir!"
"With what shot?"
"Roundshot."
"Could I suggest that you immediately load grape over the roundshot and stand by with canister for close engagement?"
"But why?"
"Because one reason for towing longboats is to have them ready to embark a large force of men at utmost speed."
"For what purpose, Mr Flint?"
"To effect an armed landing, Colonel!"
"Ah!" said Bland. "And that's Silver down there? Capable of any foul trick?"
"The same, Colonel!"
Bland nodded and ran off towards the battery, clutching his hat to keep it on his head, and his sword to keep it from tripping him. He shouted as he ran. The gunners gaped, but then their sergeant started bellowing too, and the men reached for their rammers, and Flint nodded in satisfaction. Silver was coming for a reckoning just as much as Flint was, and in Silver's place, with ships and prize money to hand, Flint would have brought every man he could hire! So there might be a great need for grape and canister.
For a moment, Flint allowed himself a smile.
And then he groaned.
"No!" he said, "No! No! No!" For, staring hard through his telescope, he'd just seen the flash of taffeta on
Walrus's
quarterdeck. He'd seen who it was that might receive the deadly fire of Colonel Bland's guns. He'd not thought of that, not
clever
Joe Flint,
jolly
Joe Flint,
vain
Joe Flint… the immeasurably cunning, resourceful and talented Joe Flint.
He'd not thought of that at all.
"Señor Teniente," cried Silver, "I will not hoist Spanish colours until your men are in the boats and pulling for the shore!"
"No!" cried the red-faced teniente, with his men massed behind him: the dozen of them that were on deck in their seamen's clothes, all of them glaring angrily at Silver and his men. "I will go no further, except in my king's service, under my king's banner!" cried Burillo. "Were I to do otherwise, my men and I could be shot, under the laws of war!"
"Jesus, Moses and Mary!" cried Silver. "Will you look at that battery up there? And the guns of the fort? Them bastards'll open fire the instant they see Spanish colours! You'll have a chance if it's at the last moment, but otherwise they'll be sending shot aboard when you're most helpless, as you man the boats and take up oars!"
"No!" said Burillo. "The world is at peace - the fort's guns will not even be loaded! We will have plenty of time to act with honour and yet to get our men ashore! So hoist the colours now, or I will send my men to do it!"
"Oh no you won't, my bully boy!" said Silver in English, and he looked to his own men. "Walruses, to me!" he yelled. "And none o' them Dago swabs to touch the halliards or the flag lockers!"
"Aye!" roared Silver's men. There were nearly as many of them on deck as there were Spaniards, and they were gentlemen o' fortune besides, that had smashed heads and slit livers all their lives, while the Spaniards were mostly honest seamen. So there was a great growling and scowling, and some shuffling forward… but for all Teniente Burillo's orders, no man of his moved forward to hoist the banner of Spain.
"So," said Burillo, "I at least shall act with honour!" And he threw off the greatcoat that was covering his uniform, cast aside his straw hat, and took his laced hat and sword from a canvas bag that one of his aspirantes was carrying. They did the same, and the three of them stood proudly in the uniform of their service.
"And now," said Burillo, "enough! I shall bring my soldiers on deck, and by the persuasion of their bayonets, you - Capitán Silver - will hoist proper colours!" He turned to one of the aspirantes: "Alvarez!" he cried.
"Señor Teniente!"
"Summon the drummers! Sound the muster!"
"For God's sake, don't!" cried Silver, pointing up at the landing stairs and the fort and the battery, where crowds of people were now visible even without a telescope. "You'll bring down fire on the ship, and there's no better target than men mustered in ranks. You'll lose half of 'em before they even go over the side!" He lurched forward, pushed all others out of his way, and clutched at Burillo's laced sleeve. "I'm begging you, Teniente," he said. "As I'm a seaman and you're one too - and I believe a brave one and a good one - don't hazard our ship and all aboard of her!"
"Oh…" said Burillo, "ah…" He was much moved, for Silver's words were from the heart, man to man, and authentic good sense. "Well…" said Burillo, "… perhaps not."
But then Israel Hands cried out from the quarterdeck:
"John! John! Beware astern!" And everyone turned to look at
La Concha
and knew the debate aboard
Walrus
to be irrelevant, for
La Concha
had already struck British colours, and the scarlet and gold of Spain streamed out from foretop, maintop, and stern post.
"Oh no!" said Silver, and turned to look at the battery. There was a horrible pause:
… a pause of… great… long… plodding… seconds…then:
Orange flashes and eruptions of white smoke, and a reverberating
thud-boom-boom
, bouncing around the river banks… and the howling scream of approaching shot.
Chapter 38
Morning, 20th July 1754
The Savannah River
The first salvo missed, but the river heaved and churned around
Walrus
and a shower of foaming, muddy water came spattering down on her decks, drenching all hands.
"Bring up the men!" cried Burillo, in Spanish, and Aspirante Alvarez ran to the hatchways shouting and waving his arms. A stream of white-coated Spanish infantrymen poured out and on to the maindeck, led by their drummers who stood to attention and beat the muster with fierce concentration.
"God help us!" said Silver, and he turned to Israel Hands: "Might as well run up their blasted flag, shipmate. Can't do no harm now, and it might save our necks if we're took."