There was the corporal acting as the marker: within a few moments the men were lined up in two ranks. "Everyone has a head band? Pistols at half-cock?"
All Rennick could really distinguish in the dim light were eyes and the white of teeth: the men's blackened faces, arms and hands, and their dark clothes, blended with the rocks and bushes behind them.
"First rank, follow me." With that Rennick led the way along the steep path that snaked upwards from the beach. As the Santa Barbara passed in daylight, he had inspected the path with a telescope. It was steep, it twisted and turned, but it went up towards the Castillo San Antonio, going round a crest near the top and apparently leading to a rear entrance.
As Rennick felt the muscles tighten in the backs of his legs he found himself once again worrying about the top of the path. He and Wagstaffe had agreed that the path was used very frequently and the castle was probably supplied from the beach: it would be much easier for a boat to land provisions there so that men could carry them up the path than trying to get supplies across a mile or two of steep hills. That being the case, then the path would naturally go to a back entrance. But if the castle was supplied over the hills then the path was worn by sheep and goats and might not reach the castle . . .
There would be sentries marching along the battlements, watching to seaward; that much was obvious. No matter how slack the Dons were someone up there would be keeping a lookout, however sleepy-eyed and spasmodic. But what about that back entrance? Was it the only entrance? Was there a sentry at the door? Was the door bolted at night?
He glanced back and saw that although the men were following close behind him they were hard to see: they blended in perfectly. If they had been in uniform their pipe-clayed crossbelts would have marked out every man. He looked across at El Pilar, where the sergeant's party should be well up the path. No shooting, so they had not been detected - yet.
Why would the Spaniards in San Antonio bolt the door? Why a sentry? It all depended on how they regarded San Antonio. Was it a fortress guarding Punta Reina, the headland on which it stood - in which case there would be sentries covering every direction - or was it part of the defence of the harbour entrance, its eyes and guns aimed to seaward, with no one bothering about back doors?
He paused a moment to look back along the path, which was getting steep now. He seemed to be trailing a bulky black caterpillar whose undulations were men climbing upwards, each trying to keep the ordered yard from the man in front. A hiss as a man breathed in sharply, the shrill whine of mosquitoes, the murmur of waves sucking and slapping at the beach below. And the Santa Barbara well clear of the entrance. And then suddenly Rennick saw that the beach where they had landed was indeed out of sight from San Antonio, as they had hoped, hidden by projecting ledges of rock and folds in the hills. He had forgotten to look up towards the castle once they landed on the beach, but he realized now that the Spanish sentries would have seen only the Santa Barbara sailing along the channel and out into the open sea. They might have watched her clew up her topsails, but it was unlikely that they had noticed her cast off the two boats that she had towed the length of the channel. In daylight the sentries on San Antonio would certainly have seen the sergeant's boat rowing across the channel to El Pilar; but they would not pick her out in the darkness: he could not see her on the distant beach, even though he knew where to look, because there were so many shadows made by rocks and landslides.
Rennick was beginning to feel weary. From his bird's-eye view he estimated he was more than two thirds of the way up to San Antonio. The Jocasta should be leaving the lagoon and entering the channel by now. It was hopeless trying to look at his watch while still climbing, and he passed the word for a halt. The men could have a brief rest; he could check the time and hope the sergeant across the channel was doing the same. To the minute, Captain Ramage had said of the final attack; the difference of a minute between the assaults on San Antonio and El Pilar could lose all the surprise and cost lives.
He managed to make out the hands of the watch in the faint moonlight. Eleven minutes to go. Better wait at the top than here, he thought, and started off again, followed by his men. The path was smooth, slippery with sheep and goat droppings, and soon began to level out, still with the hill to the left. Then, with startling suddenness, Rennick found the castle towering above him: the path came out from beside a sheer outcrop of rock some five yards from the western side. He ducked back and then squatted down, peering upwards across the gap at the grey walls.
It was unlikely that they would be seen. A sentry leaning over this west corner and staring downward might spot them, but the chances were about the same as being hit by a bolt of lightning. He whispered an order to the Marine behind him and waited until he saw him pass it to the next man.
He moved slowly across the gap until he was against the wall of the castle, then pulled the strip of white cloth from his pocket and tied it round his head. More Marines, all moving slowly, joined him and followed as he led the way round the castle, a sheer face of shaped stone. From here he had a fine view of El Pilar across the channel: the moon was higher now and the shadows shorter. Then he was at the corner and peering round it along the south side of San Antonio. The doorway, blast it, was halfway along the wall with no cover, and hundreds of mosquitoes seemed to be living in the cracks of the stonework, all of them with a whine that made a shrill chorus.
He watched carefully but there was no sign of movement. If there was a sentry, he would be inside the door. Mr Ramage had stressed that the attack had to begin at a certain time, but, Rennick found himself puzzling, did the attack begin here, or inside the castle?
He pulled out his watch. Four minutes to go. Here or inside the castle? He asked himself the question again and decided to risk there being a sentry down there; the one who could raise the alarm by seeing the flashes of guns at El Pilar was up on the battlements. He signalled the men to follow and crept along the wall. The darkness played tricks with distance, making the castle seem bigger than it was, and he was surprised how quickly he reached the door. It was enormous, studded with circular bolt-heads which were intended to blunt the axes of an enemy trying to cut their way in - and it was shut. He gripped the big handle, lifted it and pulled. The door moved a few inches with a spine-chilling creak and Rennick waited to see what the noise provoked. Nothing moved on the other side and he pulled it again so that the door was open just wide enough for them to slip through one at a time.
He cocked his pistol, quietly drew his cutlass, then led the way through the opening. There was a big courtyard, most of it hidden in shadow. The castle was a hollow square with a building against the north wall which was probably used as a barracks for the garrison. A smaller building a few yards beyond was most likely the officers' quarters, while another nearby would be the kitchen. To one side, stone steps led up to the top of the wall, where the guns sat, waiting.
By now all the Marines were through the door. Rennick found the corporal and gave him his orders, then took his own section of men and whispered their instructions. He looked at his watch. Two minutes to go. He hissed a warning to the men, repeated it when a minute had gone, and then counted the remaining seconds, finishing with a "Go", when he led the rush across the square.
The corporal's section went straight to the two barrack buildings while Rennick raced to the steps. As he reached the bottom one he saw the dim outline of a man standing at the top. He knew it was hopeless to try a pistol shot in the bad light, and anyway the noise would raise the alarm quicker than a shout. The man had vanished and was shouting as Rennick rushed up the steps, all tiredness vanishing in the spasm of fear as he pictured alert men waiting to shoot him as he reached the top.