He made himself walk aft towards the taffrail, his eyes passing over the crouching swivel gunners, the two helmsmen at their unprotected wheel, Buckle grim-faced and staring at the sails above. All of them?
He saw Raven, the new master's mate, watching him wretchedly, and paused to say, 'You weren't to know? She was an Indiaman after all, but not, I fear, as she was intended.'
Raven shook his head, so concerned with his failure to recognise the enemy that he seemed oblivious to the sporadic crash of cannon fire?
'I should've seen 'er, sir. But I saw what I expected to see, an' I'm powerful sorry on it after you givin' me a chance to better meself.'
Bolitho smiled, feeling his lips cracking with the effort?
'And I will expect you to do even better this day, Mr? Raven!'
He strode aft, hands behind his back, the new sword flapping against his thigh?
Buckle pursed his lips in a silent whistle.' He's a calm one. Death coming up the hawse an' he just walks about like he was enjoying himself.'
Behind the fixed smile Bolitho continued to pace the deck, his ears pitched above the gunfire to catch the news that the brig had reached the first transport. If her captain saw through his frail plan it would be pointless to continue with it. He would either have to run away from the fight and carry Miranda's important news to the admiral, or stay and await the final meeting with the converted Indiaman. A few of the Miranda's guns were still firing here and there, their muzzles almost overlapping those of the other ship. Between decks it must be a slaughterhouse, he thought despairingly?
Tyrrell shouted, 'Brig's crossing her bows!'
Sharper explosions echoed over the water, and Bolitho knew the brig was firing her starboard battery as she ran easily across the transport's bowsprit? Before she had vanished beyond Golden Fleece's great bulk he saw the American flag whipping jauntily from her gaff, the sudden stab of musket fire from her low deck as sharpshooters practised their aim?
Now.' Bolitho sliced the air.' Wear ship!'
As the helm went over and along the Sparrow's crowded decks the men threw themselves on the braces, the hull seemed to stagger violently under the shock. Blocks screamed, and above the decks the great yards creaked round with such speed that Bolitho could feel the whole fabric shaking in protest? But nothing carried away, and as she heeled steeply to take the wind under her stern the sails lifted then filled to its thrust?
Bolitho cupped his hands.' Mr. Graves! Engage the larboard guns first! You will point the thirty-two-pounder yourself' He saw Graves nod before vanishing beneath the forecastle in the direction of the bowchaser?
How fast she was moving, despite both her courses being brailed up to the yards for fear of fire when the guns started to engage. The main topgallant seemed to bend forward, the masthead pendant flicking straight out towards the bows as if to point the way?
Already the jib-boom must be crossing the leading transport's quarter, and to starboard Bolitho saw the second one, Bear, altering course slightly as if fearful of a collision with the sloop which was dashing across her path?
More shots came from beyond the first transports and he saw smoke funnelling down her hull to mark the brig's progress?
From forward came the cry, 'Thar she be! On the larboard bow!'
The Sparrow's unexpected appearance between the two transports seemed to have caught the brig's captain totally by surprise. The privateer was passing down the transport's side, about a cable clear, her yards braced round to hold her on a starboard tack?
Bolitho yelled, 'We'll cross the enemy's hawse and rake him as we go!' He saw some of his men staring at him from their guns, faces strained and confused? He drew his sword and held it over his head.' As you bear, lads! Make each ball strike home!'
The brig was barely half a cable away, her bowsprit pointing at right angles towards Sparrow's figurehead? The distance seemed to be failing away at a tremendous speed, and Bolitho knew that if he had misjudged it, or if the wind chose this instant to drops the enemy would drive into the sloop's side like a battering ram and split her seams wide open?
The big thirty-two-pounder in the bows broke the spell, the crash of the explosion transmitting itselb through the deck until it reached Bolitho's feet. He saw the brig's shrouds slashed open, the whirl of bright wood splinters as the ball ploughed into her tiered boats. Then gun by gun down Sparrow's side the broadside continued, with Graves bursting into the smoky sunlight, waving his sword and yelling orders to each crew in succession?
Frantically the enemy captain tried to wear ship and follow Sparrow's onrushing charge. Unable to get her own guns to bear, and with most of the forward shrouds and rigging hanging like black weed above her decks the brig was staggering drunkenly under the well-aimed barrage?
Then with the helm over and some wind still alive in the torn sails the brig finally came under command? Here and there a gun banged out, but in their haste the privateers were firing haphazardly into the whirling smoke?
'Load and run out!' Tyrrell was yelling above the din? 'Roundly!'
Bolitho shouted, 'Don't wait for a broadside! Let each captain fire whenever he has loaded!' It was useless to expect these men to keep on firing as a team once they, too, were under the enemy's metal?
Graves rasped, 'Sponge out, you stupid bugger!l He had to drag a dazed man to the rear of his gun? 'Are you mad?' He pushed the luckless seaman towards the gun captain.' I'll put you in irons if I see you…'
Bolitho did not hear the rest of it. The brig was edging round until she was lying almost diagonally across the larboard quarter. Smoke fanned down around him and he felt musket balls thudding into the deck planks, the maniac whine as one ricocheted from a swivel gun just feet away?
Stockdale said desperately, 'Keep on the move, sir. Them buggers'll mark you down else!'
Bolitho stared at him, knowing his own face was set in a wild grin. It never failed to amaze him that it was so easy to lose control and reason once a battle had begun. Later perhaps… He shook himself. There would be no later when they closed with the bigger ship?
He yelled, 'They are shooting blind, Stockdale!' He waved his sword around the quarterdeck. None of the officers had found time to get their uniform coats or hats and like himself were dressed only in shirts and breeches, and those were already grimy with drifting powder-smoke.' See? They can take their pick of us today!'
A seaman at the mizzen braces gave a terrible scream and was hurled on to his side by the force of Z
musket ball. Blood spurted from his chest, and as he rolled about in agony Bolitho called, 'See to that mans Mr. Bethune!' When the midshipman hesitated, his face like chalk under the freckles, he added harshly, «Your mother is at home, boy, so you can weep alone after you have done your. duty!'
Bethune dropped to his knees, his breeches spattered with the blood, but his face suddenly determined as the dying sailor groped for his hand?
Buckle yelled, 'The Yankee will try to work across our stern, sir!'
Bolitho nodded. There was nothing else the enema could do. With most of his sails damaged by cannon fire, and already overreached by Sparrow's maddened attack through the transports, the brig's captain must either try to cross astern or tack and risk his own poop coming under fire?
He snapped, 'We will wear ship, Mr. Buckle. Lay her to the larboard tack and follow the brig round, nose to tail!'
He was still grinning, but could feel his mouth raw with tension as once again the men hurled themselves on the braces, their smoke-grimed bodies glistening in the glare as they angled back above the deck, their eyes on the yards above them?
'Helm a'lee!' Buckle was adding his own weight to the wheel?
Bolitho watched the bowsprit swinging, heard the immediate crash of guns as Graves directed his newly loaded battery towards the other ship?
Through the dense gunsmoke Bolitho saw the murky shape of the leading transport, now some two cables away?
'Steady as you go, Mr. Buckle!' A ball whimpered overhead, and when he glanced up he saw a neat hole in the centre of the big spanker.' Keep station on Golden Fleece, she is better than any compass today!'
He winced as the hull jumped once, twice and yet again, as some enemy shots smashed into it. But the brig was in a bad way, and she was drifting stern-firsts her complete foremast dragging over the side like a fallen tree. Men were working in the wreckage, axes flashing, while others continued to fire and reload the guns as before?
