“The meaning of this was made plain to us as we fetched our way round to the eastward and came out upon the face of a steep hill that broke away in steep cliffs to the very foreshore.  There, below us, lay a neat deep-water roadstead covered to westward by a small island with a tower on it and a battery.  The shore ran out towards the island, and the two had been joined by a mole, or the makings of one, about thirty yards long; and well back in the bight of the shore, where it curved towards us, was a half-built town, all of new stone, with scaffoldings standing everywhere, yet not a soul at work on ’em.  Out in the roadstead five small gunboats were tacking and blazing away, two at the mole and three at the town itself; and the town and the island blazing and banging back at the gunboats.  We could not see the town battery, but the island one mounted three guns, and Sir John’s spy-glass showed the people there running from one to another like emmets.

“Sir John studied the boats and the town through his glass for five minutes, and after them the inshore water and the beach on our side of the town, that was of white sand with black rocks here and there, and ran down pretty steep as it neared the foot of our hill.  ‘If those fellows had any sense—­’ he began to say, and with that, as if struck by a sudden thought, he looked close around him, and towards the edge of the cliff where it broke away below us.  The next moment he was down on his stomach and crawling to the brink for a look below.  I did the same, of course; and overtook him just as he drew back his head, and gave a sort of whistle, looking me in the face—­as well he might; for right underneath us lay a sixth gunboat, and the crew of her ashore already with a six-pounder and hoisting it by a tackle to a slab of rock about fifty feet above the water’s edge.  A neater spot they couldn’t have chosen, for it stood at an angle the town battery couldn’t answer to (which was plain, from its sending no shot in this direction), and yet it raked the whole town front as easy as ninepins.

“To make things a bit fairer, this landing-party offered us as simple pretty a target as any man could wish for; nothing to do but fire down on ’em at forty yards, bob back and reload, with ne’er a chance of their climbing up to do us a mischief or even to count how many we were.  I touched Sir John’s elbow and tapped my gun-stock, and for the moment he seemed to think well of it.  ‘Cut the tackle first,’ said he, lifting his gun. ’’Twill be as good as hamstringing ’em’:  and for him the shot would have been child’s play.  But after a second or two he lowered his piece and drew back.  ‘Damme,’ said he, ’I’m losing my wits.  Let ’em do their work first, and we’ll get cannon and all.  If only’—­and here he looked nervous-like over his shoulder up the hill—­’if only those fellows from the town don’t hurry up and spoil sport!’