"Along with the pistols I also got part of the story of Jackson's expedition. It seems this man had been with them— claimed he was first mate on the flagship—but he'd finally jumped ship when Jackson tried to storm a fortress up on the coast of Spanish Florida, then made his way north to Virginia. He stole these pistols from Jackson's cabin the night he swam ashore."
"Then I've half a mind to confiscate them here and now as payment for my sight drafts." She inspected the guns. "But I still don't follow what that's got to do with Jamaica."
He picked up one of the pistols again and traced his finger along the flintlock. "The name. Don Francisco de Castilla. I kept thinking and thinking, and finally I remembered. That's not a pistol maker. That's the name of the Spanish governor of Villa de la Vega. Jamaica. "
"But then how did Jackson get them? I never saw these pistols when he was here, and I'd have remembered them, you can be sure." She was staring skeptically at the guns.
"That's what I began to wonder. So I tracked down the seller and found out what really happened." He lowered his voice again. "Jackson got them from de Castilla's personal strongbox. In the fortress. William Jackson took Jamaica. He got the idea the Spaniards'd never be expecting an attack that far from the Main, and he was right. So after Maracaibo, he made way straight for Jamaica. He raised the bay at dawn, brought the fleet together and put in for the harbor. The fortress, the town, all of it, was his in a morning."
"But how could he hold the place? As soon as the Spaniards over on the Main got word, they’d be sure to send a . . ."
"He didn't bother. He delivered the town back in return for provisions and a ransom of twenty thousand pieces of eight. Split the money with his men and swore them to secrecy. But he kept these pistols." Winston smiled. "Except now they're mine."
"Hold a minute. I'm afraid I'm beginning to see what you're thinking." She leaned forward, alarm in her eyes. "So let me tell you a few things. About that little expedition of Jackson's. That fast-talking rogue put in here with three armed frigates. He raised over five hundred men and God knows how many muskets. I saw them all off, holding my valuable sight drafts, the day he set sail out of Carlisle Bay."
"But what if I got more men?"
"In God's name, who from?"