There was still a chance.
He held his voice steady as he called, 'Keep watching her!' To Couzens he added more quietly, 'ire shall have a closer look at her soon enough, I imagine.' He saw the understanding clouding Couzens' eyes. 'Clear for action, if you please. Then load, but do not run out.'
He glanced along the deck, at the brig's small defences. Enough guns to rake the defenceless yawl, but if the oncoming vessel was Captain Tracy's previous command, they would be all but useless.
17. None So Gallant
Bolitho waited for the deck to steady again and then trained his telescope across the larboard bow. He could see the other brig's topsails and topgallants sharply etched against the blue sky, but the rest of the vessel was lost in distance and haze.
If the vessel was the Revenge, her master would recognize the White Hills as soon as she was within reasonable distance. He might have done so already. To alter course away, to wear completely and fly with the wind would tell him what had happened quicker than any challenge.
Bolitho looked up at the masthead pendant. The wind had backed a point or so further. It was tempting to turn and run, but if the wind went against them again, and they were repeatedly made to change tack, the other brig would soon overhaul them. With only a small prize-crew to work the ship, Bolitho knew it. would be asking too much of any man.
He said, 'Let her fall off a point, Stockdale.'
From the mainmast he heard Quinn call, 'I can see her better now! She's the old Mischief! I'm almost certain!'
Frowd swore. 'Bloody hell! We'd better show her a clean pair of heels!'
y Stockdale said, 'Nor'-east by east, sir.'
Bolitho cupped his hands, 'Man the braces! You, Buller, put more men on the weather forebrace!'
,He watched narrowly as the yards moved slightly to allow each sail to fill to capacity. But not enough to betray an attempt to escape.
Couzens came running aft, his hands filthy, his shirt torn in several places.
'Cleared for action, sir. All guns loaded.'
Bolitho smiled tightly. By all guns, Couzens meant the White, Hills' eight six-pounders. She was designed to carry fourteen, and some swivels, but the sinking of the yawl had put paid to that. Eight guns, and only four on either beam. To try and shift a full battery to one side would certainly be seen by the other brig. She was growing in size at a surprising speed, and Bolitho could see the sun reflecting on metal, or perhaps the glass of several telescopes.
She was closing with the White Hills on a converging tack, bowsprit to bowsprit.
The White Hills' original crew had been new and raw, but the Revenge's master would certainly know Tracy by sight. They must try and stand off. Keep up some sort of bluff until dusk.
'Land on the lee bow, sir!' The look-out had been keeping his eyes open too while Quinn watched the other brig.
Bolitho looked at Frowd, seeing his despair. The land was most likely to be one or more of the tiny islands which marked their course past Nevis and then fifty miles on to Antigua. It made it seem much worse. So near, yet so far.
'Brig's altered course, sir!' Then another cry, 'She's run up her flag!'
Bolitho nodded grimly. 'Hoist the same one, Mr Couzens.' He watched as the red and white striped flag ran up to the gaff and broke to the wind.
Frowd was straining up on the hatch cover. 'No use, blast his eyes! He's closing, and making sure he can keep the windgage!'
'He'll want to speak with us. To find out if we got the guns and powder. This brig was probably meant to join with him at some point.' Bolitho was thinking aloud and saw Frowd nod in agreement.
Stockdale pulled at Couzens' sleeve. 'Get the real flag ready, Mr Couzens. I can't see our lieutenant fighting under false colours. Not today.'
Frowd said despairingly, 'How can we fight, you fool! These privateers are always armed to the gills! They need to smash an enemy into submission as fast as they can, and before help can be sent to drive 'em off!' He groaned. 'Fight? You must be mad!'
Bolitho made up his mind. 'We will begin to shorten sail directly, as if we are about to speak with him. If we can get near enough without rousing suspicion, we'll rake his poop, do for as many of the after-guard as possible and then run for it.'
Stockdale nodded. 'Later we could shift two guns aft, sir. A stern chase is better'n nothin'.'
Bolitho made himself stand quite still, to give his mind time to work. He had no other choice, and this was not much of one. But it was either a sudden act of daring, or surrender.
`Take in the mains'l.,
Bolitho watched the few spare hands swarming up the ratlines. The other master would see tine depleted crew, and might imagine they had been in a battle. The gash through the bulwark made by Trojan's eighteen- pounder must be plain enough to we.
He levelled his glass on the other vessel, ignoring the shouts and curses as his men fought with the rebellious canvas. Frowd was right. She was heavily armed, and there were plenty of men about her deck, too.
He wondered what had happened to her original captain when she had been captured from under him, Fourteen guns and a determined company would make her a formidable enemy. Bolitho watched her tilting towards him, revealing her maindeck, the line of guns on the opposite side. None was manned, but on this side he could see a few heads peering over the sealed gunports, and guessed they were probably loaded and ready.
Moffitt crossed the deck and said dourly, 'You'll be needin' me, sir? I know how to speak to them bastards!'
'Be ready.'
He studied the set of each sail, the lively froth around the privateer's stem. as she edged over even furt'aer, her yards moving as if controlled by one hand.
Half a mile. Not long now.
He shifted his glance inboard, se~_-ing the quick, anxious gestures of his small company, -even the wounded were craning their heads and trying to see above the weather bulwark.
`Come down, Mr Quinn!' Bolitho looked at Stockdale and Butler. 'See that our people beep their weapons out of sight. When I give the word, I want those four, ouns run out as smartly as you like and Are at will. If we can mark down her officers we may use the surprise to fight clear.'
Quinn arrived beside him, breathing fast, his eyes towards the enemy.
'D'you think they are on to us?
'No.' Bolitho folded his arms, hoping that across the glittering pattern of waves and spray he would appear more relaxed than he felt. 'They would have run down on us before now. They have all the advantage.'
If the wind chose this moment to change… He shut his mind to the possibility and concentrated on the sails and masthead pendant. The wind, which was fresh and steady, came from the north-west. The White Hills had her yards well braced, heeling on the larboard tack, the wind across her quarter. If they could just delay the other captain's suspicions, and then hold him off until dark, they might well lose him amongst the islands when daylight returned.
And even then, if the privateer's captain was so set on another victory and made further contact, they might be able to give him the slip further north, or in the narrows between Nevis and St Christophers. In those treacherous waters, off some deadly place like the Scotch Bonnet, they might even tempt their pursuer aground.
The only ally at this precarious stage was the wind. Both brigs were carrying the bulk of their sails, so either could tack or come about with agility if need be.
Stockdale observed, `She must be steerin' almost sou'-east, sir. The wind right astern of 'er.'
Bolitho nodded, knowing Stockdale wanted to help, if only by making a professional comment.
