Artemis

begun bearing down on the strange sail. 'I'll trouble you to take in the topsails, Mr Parry — no point in alarming them unnecessarily.' The pale blob steadied and remained. 'We keep to windward. Stand off and on until dawn.'

After an hour it became clear that the stranger had sighted them and changed course towards them. Artemis followed suit to retain her windward position. The stranger soon tired of this and eased away off the wind, and the two ships spent the remaining hours of darkness running parallel under easy sail.

The stirring rattle of the drums died away, and with every man closed up at his post, they waited for the darkness to lift. Artemis always met a new day with guns run out and men at quarters: they would never be caught out by the light of day revealing an enemy alongside ready to blow them out of the water.

* * *

The stranger was still there at daybreak five miles under their lee, the summer dawn languorously painting in the colours of the day — darkling sea to a vivid cobalt, lilac sky to a perfect cerulean with vast towers of pure white clouds to the south. It also revealed the sleek low black and yellow lines of a frigate, quite as big as they, and in the process of shortening sail.

Artemis bore down on the vessel, every glass trained on her. The quarterdeck grew tense. 'She does not throw out her private signal, dammit!' grunted Powlett. If this were a Royal Navy ship there was a need to establish the relative seniority of their respective captains. But on the other hand she might well have thought that Artemis^ end on, could be a French ship and feel reluctant to deter the approach by showing her true colours too soon.

The sailing master, Mr Prewse, took off his hat to scratch at his sparse hair. 'Don't know as I recognises her as a King's ship at all.'

The boatswain took a telescope and stared at the stranger for a long time. 'Could be a Swede, but my money's on her bein' a Frenchy.'

Powlett's response was quick. 'Why so?'

'Cos, sir, she has squared-off hances, much less of a sheer, an' as you can see, sir, the fo'c'sle rail is never carried forrard of the cathead — she's French-built right enough.'

'Thank you, Mr Merrydew,' Powlett said quietly.

'If you please, sir.' Parry stood patiently before Powlett, his expression as uncompromising as ever.

'Mr Parry?'

The second lieutenant motioned forward a sailor. 'What is it, Boyden?'

'Sir, that there's the Sit-oy-en’ he said definitively. 'The what?'

'Sit-oy-en. Seen 'er in Toulong. We was alongside, takin' in wine, we was, sir, last days o' the peace, 'n' she takes a piece outa us comin' down with the tide.'

Powlett stiffened. 'The Citoyenne you mean. You're sure? What is her force, man?'

'Thirty-six long twelves, sixes on the quarterdeck, don't remember else. Ah - she's big, an' has a consid'rable crew—'

Powlett nodded. Unlike the world-ranging British frigates, French vessels could re-supply at any time and as a consequence were crowded with fighting men. This one was also smart and confident, and presumably did not have prize crews away.

'And, sir.'

'Yes?'

'Her cap'n is a right tartar, beggin' yer pardon, like, sir. Our second lootenant, he 'eard him ter say that if the new crew didn't shape up sharpish, he promises ter turn 'em over inta the galleys - an' that more'n six months ago.'

Lieutenant Neville cleared his throat and said lightly, 'Then we can expect a warm welcome.'

No smile broke Powlett's expression.

'Eyes of the world, I rather fancy.' Rowley's musing was ill-timed, but ignoring Powlett's glower he pursued the thought. 'For the first time in this war - here we have a match of equal force. The only thing to tip the scales will be the character of the nation. Will hot-blooded revolutionary zeal triumph over the lords of the sea? Or does right prevail? It will be a tournament that I rather think will mean more to the country than a single lonely battle far out at sea.'

Parry turned on Rowley. 'Are you in any doubt of the outcome, sir?'

'I would be a fool were I to think other than that it will be a hard-fought contest — but it will go hard for us at home should fortune deny us the victory.'

Powlett broke clear of the group. 'Give 'em a gun and tell 'em who we are, Mr Parry.'

A gun to weather banged out. Overhead the battle ensign broke out, its enormous size streaming brazenly in the breeze.

Powlett bared his teeth. 'Rig the splinter nettings, Mr Parry, and we'll have barricades in the tops.' He glanced at the heavy frigate riding the waves ahead. 'We're going to have to earn our honours today.'

Leaning out of the gunport below, Kydd and Stirk tried to make out the ship ahead. 'He's a Frog, 'n' we's invitin' him to a tea party,' Stirk said, pulling back inboard. 'An' it looks to be a right roaratorious time, he bein' at least our weight o' metal.'

Kydd looked at the enemy again. There was activity at the braces as the ship began a turn. Her profile shortened as she fell away off the wind, showing her ornamented stern and gathering way as she fled from them.