“Easy enough to guess, though, sir.”
“Yes, I suppose so,” said Bush.
There would be no need for big men of war here, immediately adjacent to the Mona Passage. Half the Caribbean trade came up through here, passing within thirty miles of the bay of Samaná. Fast, handy craft, with a couple of long guns each and a large crew, could dash out and snap up prizes and retire to the protection of the bay, where the crossed fire of the batteries could be relied on to keep out enemies, as the events of yesterday had proved. The raiders would hardly have to spend a night at sea.
“They’ll know by now we’ve got this fort,” said Hornblower. “They’ll guess that Renown will be coming round after ‘em. They can sweep, and tow, and kedge. They’ll be out of the bay before you can say Jack Robinson. And from Engano Point it’s a fair wind for Martinique.”
“Very likely,” agreed Bush.
With a simultaneous thought they turned to look at the Renown. With her stern to them, her sails braced sharp on the starboard tack, she was making her way out to sea; it would be a long beat before she could go about in the certainty of being able to weather Cape Samaná. She looked lovely enough out there, with her white sails against the rich blue, but it would be hours before she could work round to stop the bolt hole. Bush turned back and considered the sheltered waters of the bay.
“Better man the guns and make ready for ‘em,” he said.
“Yes, sir,” said Hornblower. He hesitated. “We won’t have ‘em under fire for long. They’ll be shallow draught. They can hug the point over there closer than Renown could.”
“But it won’t take much to sink ‘em, either,” said Bush. “Oh, I see what you’re after.”
“Redhot shot might make all the difference, sir,” said Hornblower.