Reefs and Shoals

She was trying to get away, trying to get out to deep water, but Lizard and Firefly were now engaging her on either quarter, maybe on either beam, denying the brig a chance to flee. And, if she did turn away by then, she would lay her vulnerable stern open to a rake from one of the sloops, and a broadside from the other!

“Deck, there!” the lookouts whooped. “Chase has struck!”

“Ease helm a bit, Mister Westcott, and lay us about a mile to their lee, and once level with ’em, we’ll fetch to,” Lewrie ordered.

“‘Twixt the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea,’ she was, by then,” Lt. Westtott cheered with a feral flash of his teeth.

* * *

Before the next hour was out, all of Reliant ’s squadron, and their prize, were fetched-to within rowing distance of each other. The frigate had been stood down from Quarters, the gun tools stowed below in the racks over the mess-tables, tompions re-inserted into the guns’ muzzles, and the arms lockers locked, and the keys returned to Lewrie’s care. Boats were coming to the frigate from Lizard and Firefly bearing the triumphant Lieutenants Lovett and Bury… with a few strangers, Lewrie noted with his telescope.

It ain’t Mollien and his schooner, more’s the pity, Lewrie told himself; So who did we bag?

BOOK IV

“We’ll roll him high and we’ll roll him low

’Way down in Florida,

We’ll heave him up and away we’ll go,

And we’ll roll the woodpile down!

Rolling, rolling rolling the whole world round

That brown gal o’ mine’s down the Georgia Line

And we’ll roll the woodpile down!”

– SEA CHANTEY ANONYMOUS

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Once Lt. Lovett and Lt. Bury had been piped aboard, and congratulations had been bestowed, Bury motioned for one of the strangers to come forward.

“Allow me to name to you, sir, the master of the prize,” Bury formally intoned, “Captain Charles Chaptal, of the Insolent. ”

They ain’t makin’ Frogs like they used to, Lewrie thought as he eyed the short, slim, and almost reedy fellow who stood before him with his hat raised in salute over his carroty, frizzled hair. He looked no older than Reliant ’s junior lieutenants!

“ M’sieur Capitaine, allow me to name to you Captain Sir Alan Lewrie, Baronet, of the Reliant frigate,” Lt. Bury went on. At that point, Chaptal performed a very graceful “leg” with a sweep of his hat across his breast. Lewrie touched the brim of his cocked hat. “He offers you his sword, sir, in light of his defeat.”

“Put up a decent fight, did he, Mister Bury?” Lewrie asked.

“A mos’ spirited resistance, M’sieur!” Chaptal boasted, “agains’ four-to-one odds. I regret, z’ough, z’at you ’ave ze best of me at ze end.”

They may come weedier, these days, but just as boastful, Lewrie thought with a sigh; Exasperatin’ bastards!

“In light of your honourable resistance, you may keep possession of your sword, Captain Chaptal,” Lewrie allowed. “Though, you were at only two-to-one odds, since my ship, and our brig did not engage. Your home port, sir?”

“Basse-Terre, on Guadeloupe, M’sieur, ” Chaptal freely admitted with a very Gallic shrug and moue, “z’ough, we do not spend much time z’ere. We find better prizes ’ere, of late,” he smugly hinted.

Lewrie took note that Chaptal might have put up a good fight, after all, and was more nervous than his mien might admit. The fellow was smudged with gunpowder smoke, and his waist-coat and trousers were splattered with blood drops. And, despite his bold attitude, his hands were shaking.

“That is a long way to go to find a Prize Court, sir,” Lewrie pointed out. “Perhaps your allies at Havana are more convenient?”

Captain Chaptal opened his lips as if to reply, but then thought better of it and put an innocent smile on his face, licking his lips and saying “ Je regret, M’sieur ” with another shrug.

“No matter, sir,” Lewrie told Chaptal with a grin, “for I do believe we have your ship’s papers, right, Mister Bury?”

“Aye, sir,” Bury said with a cryptic ghost of a grin, “Letters of Marque, muster book, captain’s logs and accounts ledgers.”

“Profit and loss, where and when he victualled,” Lewrie said, happily smirking, which took Chaptal’s mood down another peg. “You are fluent in written French, Mister Bury? Good. Pray do go through them quickly, and let me know what you discover of Captain Chaptal’s doings.

“ M’sieur,” he said to the Frenchman, “while I will allow you to keep your sword, I regret that I cannot allow you to wear it or hold it sheathed in your hand. No worries, it will be returned to you when you have given your parole at Nassau, where you, your men, and your vessel will be taken tomorrow morning. In the meantime…”

Lewrie looked out toward HMS Thorn, thinking that Lt. Darling’s brigantine had a crew large enough to spare a prize crew for Chaptal’s brig, and could spare hands to guard the prisoners aboard his ship and the prize. Besides, it’s Darling’s turn, Lewrie thought; howl about it though he may. And let him dine the Frog in for the night!

“If you would be so good as to surrender it temporarily to my senior Midshipman, Mister Entwhistle, who will convey you to the care of the Thorn, which ship will carry your back to Nassau, hmm? Mister Entwhistle? Pass word for a boat crew to see Captain Chaptal over.”

“Er, aye, sir,” the surprised Mid replied,

“Upon arrival, inform Lieutenant Darling that he is to escort the prize and the prisoners to Nassau with all despatch, see them into the Prize Court, then rejoin the squadron which will be awaiting him Nor’west of Bimini.”

“Aye aye, sir,” Entwhistle said. “If I may have your sword for a brief time, sir? And if you will follow me?”

“Full departure honours, Mister Westcott,” Lewrie added.

“Aye, sir,” Westcott replied, then in a more casual way, said, “Darling will make bad weather of it, though.”

“Captain Forrester won’t be there t’plague him, so it’ll be an easy duty, with a shot at a run ashore,” Lewrie reminded him.

“In that, case, send me, sir!” Westcott exclaimed.