Ruyters topped the rise and surveyed the confusion. His presence seemed to immediately dampen the melee, as several a.s.semblymen paused in embarra.s.sment to stare. The Dutchman walked directly up to Dalby Bedford and tipped his wide-brimmed hat. "Your servant, sir." Then he gazed around. "Your most obedient servant, gentlemen, one and all." He nodded to the crowd before turning back to address Bedford. "Though it's never been my practice to intrude in your solemn English convocations, I thought it would be well for you to hear what I just learned." He drew a deep breath and settled his lantern onto the gra.s.s.

"The _Kostverloren_, bound from Amsterdam, has just dropped anchor in the bay, and Captain Liebergen called us all together in a rare sweat.

He says when dark caught him last evening he was no more than three leagues ahead of an English fleet."

"Great G.o.d help us." Walrond sucked in his breath.

"Aye, that was my thinking as well." Ruyters glanced back. "If I had to guess, I'd say your English Parliament's sent the navy, gentlemen. So we may all have to be giving G.o.d a hand if we're not to have the harbor taken by daylight. For once a rumor's proved all too true."

"G.o.d's life, how many were sailing?" Bedford whirled to squint toward the dim horizon.

"His maintopman thinks he may've counted some fifteen sail. Half of them looked to be merchantmen, but the rest were clearly men-of-war, maybe thirty guns apiece. We're all readying to weigh anchor and hoist sail at first light, but it's apt to be too late now. I'd say with the guns they've got, and the canvas, they'll have the harbor in a bottle by daybreak."

"I don't believe you." Walrond gazed skeptically toward the east.

"As you will, sir." Ruyters smiled. "But if you'd be pleased to send a man up to the top of the hill, right over there, I'd wager he just might be able to spy their tops'ls for himself."

Winston felt the life suddenly flow out of him. It was the end of his plans. With the harbor blockaded, he'd never be able to sail with the indentures. He might never sail at all.

"G.o.d Almighty, you don't have to send anybody." Bedford was pointing toward the horizon. "Don't you see it?"

Just beneath the gray cloudbank was an unmistakable string of flickering pinpoints, mast lights. The crowd gathered to stare in dismay. Finally Bedford's voice came, hard and determined. "We've got to meet them. The question is, what're their d.a.m.ned intentions?"

Ruyters picked up his lantern and extinguished it. "By my thinking the first thing you'd best do is man those guns down there on the Point, and then make your enquiries. You can't let them into the bay. We've got shipping there, sir. And a fortune in cargo. There'll be h.e.l.l to pay, I promise you, if I lose so much as a florin in goods."

Bedford gazed down the hill, toward the gun emplacements at the ocean cliff. "Aye, but we don't yet know why the fleet's come. We've only had rumors."

"At least one of those rumors was based on fact, sir." Briggs had moved beside them. "I have it on authority, from my broker in London, that an Act was reported from the Council of State four weeks past to embargo our shipping till the a.s.sembly votes recognition of the Commonwealth.

He even sent me a copy. And this fleet was already being pulled together at the time. I don't know how many men-o'-war they've sent, but I heard the flagship was to be the _Rainbowe_. Fifty guns." He looked back at the a.s.sembly. "And the surest way to put an end to our prosperity now would be to resist."

He was rudely shouted down by several a.s.semblymen, royalists cursing the Commonwealth. The air came alive with calls for defiance.

"Well, we're going to find out what they're about before we do anything, one way or the other." Bedford looked around him. "We've got guns down there in the breastwork. I'd say we can at least keep them out of the bay for now."

"Not without gunners, you won't." Ruyters' voice was somber. "Who've you got here? Show me a man who's ever handled a linstock, and I'll give you leave to hang me. And I'll not be lending you my lads, though I'd dearly love to. It'd be a clear act of war."

Winston was staring down at the sh.o.r.e, toward his own waiting seamen.

If the English navy entered Carlisle Bay, the first vessel they'd confiscate would be the _Defiance_.

"G.o.d help me." He paused a moment longer, then walked to the edge of the hill and drew a pistol. The shot echoed through the morning silence.

The report brought a chorus of yells from the sh.o.r.e. Suddenly a band of seamen were charging up the hill, muskets at the ready, led by John Mewes. Winston waited till they topped the rise, then he gestured them forward. "All gunnery mates report to duty at the breastwork down there at the Point, on the double." He pointed toward the row of rusty cannon overlooking the bay. "Master Gunner Tom Canninge's in charge."

Several of the men gave a loose salute and turned to hurry down the hill. Winston watched them go, then looked back at Bedford. "How much powder do you have?"

"Powder? I'm not sure anybody knows. We'll have to check the magazine over there." Bedford gestured toward a low building situated well behind the breastwork, surrounded by its own stone fortification. "I'd say there's likely a dozen barrels or so."

Winston glanced at Mewes. "Go check it, John. See if it's usable."

"Aye." Mewes pa.s.sed his musket to one of the French seamen and was gone.

"And that rusty pile of round shot I see down there by the breastwork?

Is that the best you've got?"

"That's all we have on the Point. There's more shot at Jamestown and over at Oistins."

"No time." He motioned to Ruyters. "Remember our agreement last night?"

"Aye, and I suppose there's no choice. I couldn't make open sea in time now anyway." The Dutchman's eyes were rueful. "I'll have some round shot sent up first, and then start offloading my nine-pound demi- culverin."

"All we need now is enough shot to make them think we've got a decent battery up here. We can bring up more ordnance later."

"May I remind you," Bedford interjected, "we're not planning to start an all-out war. We just need time to try and talk reason with Parliament, to try and keep what we've got here."

Winston noticed Briggs and several members of the Council had convened in solemn conference. If an attack comes, he found himself wondering, which of them will be the first to side with Parliament's forces and betray the island?

"There's twenty budge-barrels, Cap'n." Mewes was returning. "I gave it a taste an' I'll wager it's dry and usable."

Winston nodded, then motioned toward Edwin Spurre. "Have the men here carry five barrels on down to the Point, so the gunnery mates can start priming the culverin. Be sure they check all the touch holes for rust."

"Aye." Spurre signaled four of the seamen to follow him as he started off toward the powder magazine. Suddenly he was surrounded and halted by a group of Irish indentures.

Timothy Farrell approached Winston and bowed. "So please Yor Worship, we'd like to be doin' any carryin' you need here. An' we'd like to be the ones meetin' them on the beaches."

"You don't have to involve yourself, Farrell. I'd say you've got little enough here to risk your life for."

"Aye, Yor Worship, that's as it may be. But are we to understand that fleet out there's been sent by that wh.o.r.eson archfiend Oliver Cromwell?"

"That's what we think now."

"Then beggin' Yor Worship's pardon, we'd like to be the men

to gut every sc.u.m on board. Has Yor Worship heard what he did at Drogheda?"

"I heard he sent the army."

"Aye. When Ireland refused to bow to his Parliament, he claimed we were Papists who had no rights. He led his Puritan troops to Irish soil, Yor Worship, and laid siege to our garrison-city of Drogheda. Then he let his soldiers slaughter our people. Three thousand men, women, and children. An' for it, he was praised from the Puritan pulpits in England." Farrell paused to collect himself. "My cousin died there, Yor Worship, wi' his Meggie. An' one of Cromwell's brave Puritan soldiers used their little daughter as a shield when he helped storm an' burn the church, so they could murder the priests. Maybe that heretic b.a.s.t.a.r.d thinks we've not heard about it here." He bowed again. "We don't know enough about primin' and firin' cannon, but wi' Yor Worship's leave, we'd like to be the ones carryin' all the powder and shot for you."

"Permission granted." Winston thumbed them in the direction of Spurre.

The armada of sails was clearly visible on the horizon now, and rapidly swelling. As the first streaks of dawn showed across the waters, English colors could be seen on the flagship. It was dark brown and ma.s.sive, with wide cream-colored sails. Now it had put on extra canvas, pulling away from the fleet, bearing down on the harbor.

Winston studied the man-of-war, marveling at its majesty and size. How ironic, he thought. England's never sent a decent warship against the Spaniards in the New World, even after they burned out helpless settlements. But now they send the pick of the navy, against their own people.

"d.a.m.ned to them, that is the _Rainbowe_." Bedford squinted at the ship. "She's a first-rank man-of-war, fifty guns. She was King Charles'

royal ship of war. She'll transport a good two hundred infantry."

Winston felt his stomach tighten. Could it be there'd be more

than a blockade? Had Parliament really sent the English army to invade the island?