Ramage And The Drum Beat by Dudley Pope Page A

crawl straight through and make for Southwick who, from his stance and the night glass glinting under his arm, was clearly the officer on watch. The men following would be much less careful because as far as they were concerned the coast would be clear.
    Pareja was so quick, coming through the port like a snake, that Ramage was only just in time to hit him. Jackson caught him as he fell and pulled him to one side and left Appleby to get him to the companionway. They all waited for the next man, who could suspect nothing. He was through in a moment and Antonio’s blow sent him sprawling into Evans’ arms.
    Jackson was ready again to catch the third man as Ramage hit him. The fourth, fifth and sixth men followed at close intervals and ended up unconscious. Not one groaned. The seventh man’s knife fell with a clatter, but the eighth took no notice.
    As soon as the twelfth man had fallen to Antonio’s belaying pin Ramage glanced through the port and saw there were three more to come. He motioned to Antonio to go below – the first victim should be fit for interrogation by now. The thirteenth and fourteenth men were also knocked unconscious, then Ramage motioned to Jackson to take up his position for securing the fifteenth and last man, who was heavily built, the biggest and the clumsiest of them all. He had to struggle through the port and in a moment Jackson’s hands were round his throat while Ramage tried to pinion his arms and Evans grabbed him round the legs.
    But the man was too strong for Ramage who, realizing that in a moment he would break free and tear Jackson’s hands from his throat, jerked his knee into the man’s groin, and he collapsed groaning. Ramage bent down, drew the knife from the sheath in his boot, and held the blade an inch from the man’s face.
    ‘Look!’ he hissed in Spanish. ‘If you shout, you will die.’ The man mixed a few words of prayer with his groans.
    ‘Drag him clear of the port,’ Ramage ordered, keeping his knife in position as Evans pulled the man’s legs.
    ‘Now,’ Ramage continued in Spanish, ‘tell me the signal you are to make when you have captured the ship.’
    ‘Never!’
    ‘The other man also has a knife,’ said Ramage harshly. ‘He will use it. When he has finished, you will no longer be a man.’
    Ramage, almost laughing at the melodrama in his voice, told Jackson, ‘Rip his belt open; I’ve threatened to emasculate him.’
    The Spaniard’s eyes were wide open and there was enough light to show the terror in them as he stared up at Ramage, gasping and reeking of garlic. Jackson sat astride the man’s stomach, facing his feet.
    ‘I count ten,’ Ramage said in Spanish. ‘If you haven’t told me by then – pouf! Now, uno, dos, tres…’
    He counted slowly. At seven the Spaniard begin to wriggle his hips, and Ramage tapped Jackson on the shoulder. The American ripped at the man’s trousers.
    ‘Ocho…neuve…’
    ‘Senor – I tell.’
    ‘Tell, then!’
    ‘We had to show two lanterns – that was all.’
    ‘If you lie…’
    ‘No, no, senor – I swear that was all! Two lanterns, one on each quarter, and leave them there.’
    ‘All right. You go below without a noise. Remember…’
    ‘Yes, yes, senor!’
    ‘Get him below,’ Ramage snapped, and Evans dragged the man by the feet diagonally across the open companionway and then let go, so he slid down below head first.
    ‘Jackson – two lanterns, quickly. Light fresh ones – don’t leave ’em in the dark below. Mr Southwick, get down there and sort out the prisoners.’
    Suddenly he remembered more men may have been left in the boat, but a quick look round showed it was empty. Should he make a noise to show the frigate there had been a struggle? No – men with knives in their backs died quietly. Antonio was beside him.
    ‘The signal the ship is captured is two white lights!’
    ‘Good – that’s what my man said.’
    ‘And as soon as the frigate removes the upper of the three lights