Then the Excellent was past. The San Nicolas did not reply; instead, through the bulkhead, the Kathleens could hear the chilling, almost demented screaming of badly wounded men.

On the larboard side yet another Spanish ship was passing, keeping in the wake of the Salvador del Mundo. The Excellent began bracing up her yards, obviously intending to pass across the San Nicolas's bows to engage the other two ships.

Suddenly a thump shook the San Nicolas as though she had run on a rock. Ramage and Southwick glanced at each other, mystified. There was a sudden silence: the shouting stopped for several moments - even the wounded were quiet - and then began again with many voices raised in near panic. Ramage looked down to see the Kathleen had vanished - she'd obviously sunk when her shrouds tore away the San Nicolas's bowsprit - and then scrambled up to peer over the bulkhead across the fo'c'sle. First he saw why the Spaniards had not spotted the Kathleens or anyway left them alone: in falling, the various sections or the foremast had swept the fo'c'sle clear, tearing guns from their carriages or overturning them, wrecking the belfry, shattering the fore-bitts and smashing some of the deck planking. Torn sails, some hanging over the side, hid more damage. Then he saw the reason for the thump: the massive stern of the San Josef was jammed hard up against the San Nicolas's larboard side, her huge red, gold and red ensign flapping languidly against the main shrouds.

Ramage dropped down again. /

'What did you see sir?' Southwark asked excitedly. 'What was it?'

'Somehow we've run aboard the San Josef - or she's run aboard us! I can't make out how she got there, but her transom's tucked hard up against our larboard side at the main chains. The Captain's lost her foretopmast but she's closing on our starboard quarter - it looks as though the Commodore's going to lay her aboard us!'

The men began to chatter among themselves.

'Quiet, you fools,' hissed Southwick. "There are five hundred or so Dons still on board this ship!'

Ramage realized that if the Commodore really did board, the San Josef might send over men to help the San Nicolas - it'd be easy enough: they merely had to jump on board.

'Listen, men. There are enough of us to help the Captain's boarders. I know most of you aren't armed, but we'll split into two parties. My original boarders will go first and make for the quarterdeck. Mr. Southwick will lead the rest of you - you'll find plenty of the Dons' muskets and pikes lying around. And once you get aft keep on shouting "Kathleens here!" otherwise you'll find yourselves shot or run through by the Captains.

'Mr. Southwick - while my party makes for the quarterdeck, I want yours to keep along the larboard side to cover the San Josef. If she sends men over it'll be up to you to stop them.'

With that Ramage climbed up the bulkhead for another look. The San Josef was still jammed against the San Nicolas; the Captain was four hundred yards off and bearing down for the San Nicolas's quarter.

He dropped down to the platform again and, remembering he still had Southwick's sword, began to take off the belt, but the Master stopped him.

'You'll be leading, sir. I'll find a cutlass.'

Ramage protested but saw Southwick wanted him to keep it.

'Now, where are my men?'

Jackson, Stafford and the others crowded round him.

'Right - all of you against the bulkhead. The rest stand by to give us a leg up: we want to surprise 'em. Now, no shouting until I shout "Kathleens". We may get quite a way aft before they spot us coming.'

Again the San Nicolas shook to the sound of an enormous thump.

One of the seamen gave Ramage a leg up. The Captain's bow had hit the San Nicolas's starboard quarter: her bowsprit was right across the Spanish ship's poop, her spritsail yard hooked up in the mizzen shrouds. Already the Captain's boarding parties were grouped along her bulwarks ready to jump, and there were soldiers among them - he remembered she was carrying a detachment of the 69th Foot. As Ramage called down to Southwick to warn the men of the soldiers, there was a cracking of musket fire from the troops in the San Nicolas and Ramage saw several of the Captain's men fall.

'Right men, up you come. Give me a shove, blast you!'

The man heaved up so hard Ramage pitched right over the rail and, before he could get his balance, fell flat on his back on the fo'c'sle, the hilt of Southwick's sword knocking all the breath out of him. More of the Kathleens came up over the rail and Jackson was kneeling beside him.

'You hit, sir?'

‘No, I tripped. Come on!'

In a moment Ramage was on his feet leading the men in a wild dash across the fo'c'sle, scrambling over the thick folds of the foresail, pieces of masts and yards and tangled cordage. Right aft he could see British seamen's cutlasses glinting as they scrambled from the Captain's spritsail yard on to the San Nicolas's mizzen rigging. Spanish soldiers were shooting up at them and sailors stood ready with boarding pikes. Then a rattle of musket fire from the Captain cut down several of the Spaniards.

Meanwhile the bow of the San Josef was swinging and she'd soon be lying right alongside the San Nicolas.

Suddenly he realized he was empty-handed: Southwick's sword was bumping the back of his legs - he hadn't hauled the belt round. As he ran he dragged at it, grabbed the hilt and by drawing it over his head managed to get it clear. He tugged a pistol from his belt and cocked it with his left thumb.

Three Spaniards suddenly appeared from behind a gun - they'd obviously been skulking there out of the way - and ran aft yelling to raise the alarm. Jackson flung his half pike like a spear and the farthest fell, a rag doll tossed on the floor, making the two others turn.

One with a pistol in his hand was by then a couple of yards from Ramage and aimed straight at his face. Forgetting his pistol, Ramage desperately swung Southwick's sword but saw the man's index finger whiten as he squeezed the trigger.

The sword cut into the man's shoulder as Ramage waited for the flash from the pistol's muzzle which should have killed him. Then he saw the Spaniard had forgotten to cock the pistol.

Clutching his wounded shoulder, he spun round and as he fell the third man, cut down by Stafford, collapsed beside him. Stafford paused to pick up the pistol and followed Ramage.

Now he was abreast the mainmast. Drifting smoke hid much of the ship and several Spaniards were still standing to their guns and staring at the Captain, oblivious of the Kathleens running past.

Then Ramage was abreast the boats stowed amidships and running along the narrow gangway, dodging round more Spanish seamen who were still watching the bulk of the Captain, which was too far aft for them to train round their guns.

He saw a British officer - Edward Berry, just promoted and serving as a volunteer in the Captain - dropping down from the mizzen rigging on to the quarterdeck, a couple of dozen men following him. At the same instant a surge of Spaniards from the larboard side suddenly swept across the quarterdeck almost overwhelming Berry and his boarders.

The sharp clinking of sword against sword, the popping of pistols and muskets, more smoke, wild shouts - Ramage's own! A Spanish face in his way. The great sword swung and the face disappeared, but before Ramage could recover from the swing another man lunged with a cutlass. Ramage fired his pistol almost without aiming and the man screamed and fell to one side. As a third lunged with a pike Ramage tried to ward him off with the sword and an instant later Stafford's cutlass slashed into the man's side.