Maynard muttered, “They must be damn confident!”

Allday said, “The crew could be ashore, sir.”

“Unlikely.” Herrick tried to find the cause of his uncertainty. “Their anchorage must be a good one.” He stiffened and then relaxed as Martin slithered down the slope on his scrawny buttocks.

Martin waited to regain his breath. “Them’s soldiers up there, sir!”

“What are they doing?” Herrick forced himself to remain calm.

“Sleepin’ by the looks of it, sir!” Martin picked a thorn from his bare foot. “They’m got a sentry at each end, but the rest is just lyin’ about.” He shrugged. “Sleepin’ like I said!” He sounded scornful.

Herrick asked sharply, “What did you mean, Martin, ‘at each end’?”

“Oh, I forgot, sir.” Martin grinned. “They’ve got six pieces of artillery along the side of the cliff.”

Herrick felt strangely relaxed. Not knowing the odds was always worse than actually facing them. Almost to himself he said, “Just two sentries, you say?”

Martin nodded. “Aye, sir. An’ about thirty men lyin’ beside the guns.” He chuckled. “I could’a cut their throats easily!”

Herrick said, “You may have to.” Suddenly it was quite clear what he had to do. The Andiron slept at anchor because she was well protected by firmly mounted field pieces. No doubt each gun was already loaded and ranged to cover the whole anchorage. It was not an uncommon arrangement where no proper harbour was available.

He felt suddenly cold at the thought of what would have happened if his boats had made their planned attack. The casualties and the noise would have killed any chance of success.

He said flatly, “Get to the beach, Mr Maynard. Send every available man up here as fast as you can. Anchor the boats and let the remaining men swim ashore. Tell McIntosh and the others that I intend to rush the guns and put ’em out of action. Then we’ll take to the boats and go for the Andiron as planned!”

They all watched him in silence. Maynard said, “And you, sir?”

Herrick patted Martin’s shoulder. “Our poacher is going to earn his keep tonight, Mr Maynard!”

Martin pulled a knife from his belt and handed his heavy cutlass to Allday. He said cheerfully, “Easy, sir! It don’t seem fair, do it?”

When Martin and Maynard had slithered back into the darkness Herrick said quietly, “Those soldiers must be silenced as they sleep. Killed or clubbed, I don’t care. But they must be kept from raising the alarm!”

Allday winced as Maynard’s dirk clattered on a rock below and then said, “It’s them or us, isn’t it, sir?”

* * *

“How is your arm, Mr Belsey?” Bolitho heard the master’s mate move somewhere in the pitch darkness and knew he had asked the question merely to break the nerve-jarring silence. With Belsey and Farquhar he had been hustled below and locked unceremoniously in a tiny unused storeroom somewhere beneath the Andiron’s forecastle, and after a short attempt at conversation each man had lapsed into silence and the apprehension of his own thoughts.