Commander Cantrell in the West Indies(232)

“A few hundred, at least,” de l’Olive murmured with a nod.

“So even though we might prevail in Oranjestad, we might not be able to hold it.”

“They shall not shell their own town, even with us in it,” du Plessis sniffed.

“No, but you mean to burn it, monsieur. And if you do so, there will be no town left for their guns to spare, and so, no reason for them to remain silent. However, the fort will remain. Which, if my spyglass shows me correctly, is still manned. I would say close to a hundred troops, from what I have counted over the past half hour. They will delay us considerably, no?”

Du Plessis wanted to disagree, but thought the better of it. First, the otherwise ruthless and hard-nosed d’Esnambuc doted on his nephew like a pampered puppy. Second, the young fellow was making sense. Unfortunately. “So what are you suggesting, Monsieur Dyel du Parque?”

The nephew shook his head. “I am loath to say it, for it runs counter to my uncle’s fondest hopes, but I do not think we can afford to save the radio. I suspect we will not be able to hold Oranjestad, once we take it. And if my reading is correct, a radio so large as this one will be too cumbersome and fragile to move.”

Du Plessis glanced at the wires behind him once again. “Are you saying that we will now have to cut up all these—?”

Jacques shook his head. “No. There is neither the time for that, nor will it serve our purpose. The wire is not irreplaceable. But I suspect the radio itself is. So we must attack Oranjestad, burn it, but make sure we find the radio and demolish it. Then, if we must withdraw, we will still have crippled our adversaries. As we must, if we are to take all of St. Christopher’s and expand throughout these islands.”

Du Plessis was still getting used to the conceptual changes when de l’Olive nodded and smiled. “You are your uncle’s boy, all right. He’ll approve. I know it. So, how do we find the radio? What will it look like?”

Jacques gestured toward the cluster of wires that ran down the hill along several converging paths. “We follow the wires. Like the heads of a hydra, they can be replaced. But at the root of them all is the heart of their operation. Which will look like a large machine with wires going into it. And hooked up to some kind of electrical power source.”

“Electri—what?” De l’Olive stumbled over the words, gave up.

“More wires,” Dyel du Parque supplied, “which carry the energy that the radio uses to receive and send signals. Those wires will be hooked up to a steam plant, or a windmill, or something that takes the work of a turning wheel and turns it into the needed energy.”

“And once we find it? Hammers?”

Jacques seemed to flinch in regret. “Yes. Hammers will do.”

Du Plessis sheathed his sword, checked his pistols. “Well, then, de l’Olive, you have the information you need. Gather our musketeers and the Kalinagos so armed, also. I suspect we’ll need them to break through whatever defense these lazy Dutch manage to throw up in the next few minutes.”





Cuthbert Pudsey was gasping for breath when Anne Cathrine bid him enter. “My ladies, make haste! Ye’ve got to get to the hidey-holes we have built into the—”

“Mr. Pudsey, you may see for yourself that we will not be requiring that protection.” Anne Cathrine had already made a trip to the secondary arsenal and returned with an armload of new flintlock muskets, percussion cap pistols, and powder flasks.

“But ladies, your safety was placed in my care, and besides, you are—”

“Mr. Pudsey,” Anne Cathrine said, straightening up, “we are able-bodied persons who may help defend this largely unpopulated town. Unless I am wrong, there are but ninety-five men in this fort, true?”

“You are correct, but—”

“And presuming my husband tells me the truth, and my own eyes have not been lying these past weeks, we have few more to spare. Twelve hundred embarked to do battle at Santo Domingo. For which three hundred were furloughed from their defense of the English properties on St. Christopher’s, which now has only one company scattered among its many plantations. Furthermore, almost half of the Irish Wild Geese are defending their fort on Trinidad, along with one hundred and fifty Dutchmen. And almost three hundred and fifty more are, necessarily, embarked upon our ships in the bay, should they be required to sail to repulse a Spanish attack. Are my numbers accurate?”

Pudsey swallowed. “I-I think so, Lady Anne Cathrine, but the officers aren’t in the habit of informing me—”

“And allow me to conjecture that the landowners have not yet begun to gather in defense of the town,” added Sophie.