He made up his mind and said, 'I want those men brought on deck. This sloop has two boats, and we can usa one of our own also.' He was speaking rapidly as if to convince himself. 'Be as gentle as you can, but hurry!' He caught Piper's sleeve in the gloom. 'You take charge of swaying out the boats, lad. You've done it often enough in Hyperion, but this time you must take care to make no noise at all!'
Piper nodded and hurried away, calling his men by name. Bolitho watched him until his small body was swallowed up in the shadows and felt strangely moved. Then he forcibly controlled his sudden despair and turned to Fowler. There was no point in thinking of the midshipmen as sixteen-year-old boys. They were King's officers. It was not possible or provident to think otherwise.
Fowler said flatly, 'Unless those Frogs are stone-deaf they're bound to guess something is afoot, sir.' He added bitterly, 'Maybe that Charlois was right after all!'
Bolitho looked at him thoughtfully. 'Would you give the order to fire this ship with those helpless men trapped below?
Fowler shifted his feet and replied, 'If I was ordered to I would, sir.'
'That was not what I asked.' Bolitho's tone was cold. 'Taking orders is always easier than giving them. If you live long enough, Mr. Fowler, you may well remember that when you have a command of your own!'
The lieutenant said humbly, 'I am sorry, sir.'
There was a bump, followed instantly by a shriek of pain as one of the wounded men was hauled bodily through the ship's main hatch. Bolitho could hear Seton's voice, soothing and pleading as he tried to stem the sudden panic amongst the disturbed Frenchmen. He did not understand what was being said, but it seemed to be taking effect, for the man lay quite still below the bulwark as the first boat lifted from its chocks and swung creaking on the tackles.
Piper was dancing with anxiety. 'Easy there! Avast hoist – mg!' Then as the boat swayed over the rail he squeaked, `Lower away handsomely!'
Bolitho said, 'Take the gig and make. it fast aft. We will have to send the jolly boat ashore, I am afraid.'
Fowler replied, 'It was overloaded before, sir. With your party as well…' He shrugged doubtfully.
Allday ran across the deck. 'Just three more to get up, Captain. One of 'em is dead already, so I've left him in peace.'
The second boat splashed alongside and the Hyperion's seamen began to manhandle the wounded over the rail to their companions below. Standing bound and terrified in a small group the French anchor watch waited by the mainmast, guarded by several armed seamen, with their dead comrade still by the bulwark as a warning to anyone stupid enough to make any protest.
The men worked swiftly and silently, but as the time dragged by the tension became almost unbearable. Bolitho tried not to watch the sky, for the more he looked the lighter it appeared to become.
He said, 'Mr. Seton, tell these French seamen to keep quiet Once they are in the boats. One sound and I'll sprinkle 'em with cannister before they cover half a cable!'
Seton nodded. 'Aye, aye, s-sir!' He was swaying with fatigue and shock. 'I-I'm s-sorry about that n-noise, sir.'
Bolitho rested his hand on his hsoulder. 'You've done well, lad. I'm proud of you.'
Allday stood aside as Seton hurried past him and said quietly, 'He's got the makings, Captain.'
'So you said before.' Bolitho cocked his head as the clock chimed four. 'It's late, Allday. How many more now?'
The coxswain peered across the deck. `Just the two by the bulwark. I'll hurry ' em along' But as he made to move one of the limp figures rolled on to his side and emitted a shrill scream. It was so sudden and unexpected that for a moment nobody moved, then as Allday threw himself across the deck, his hands groping for the wretched man's mouth, the sound stopped as if cut off by a door.
Allday rolled on top of the body and said hoarsely, `Dead, Captain!'
Bolitho was watching the anchored Saphir. He had seen the sudden movements of lanterns on her quarterdeck, the darting shadows across the poop skylight.
'No matter, Allday,' he replied. 'He has done his work.'
Every man stopped and stared as the strident notes of a trumpet floated across the dark water, followed at once by the steady tap-tap of a drum. On either side of the harbour lights were appearing in windows, and Bolitho could hear` dogs barking and the cries from disturbed seabirds.
When he turned he saw that his men were looking at him, and his sudden despair gave way to a consuming and bitter anger. His men had trusted him, had obeyed his demands without a murmur, even in the face of such overwhelming odds. Now they were standing and waiting, while across that narrow strip of water the French ship came to arms and the trumpet blared like a herald from death itself. From the corner of his eye he saw one of his bargemen crossing himself, and another leaning on the bulwark and staring at the land as if for the last time. 'Something seemed to snap in his mind and when he spoke he hardly recognised his own voice.
'Cast off those boats, Allday!' He swung on Fowler. 'Stand by to break cable, and tell Piper to take charge of the gig's crew!' Fowler still stared at him and he seized his wrist with sudden determination. 'We've not come this far to give in so easily!' He turned on the silent seamen. 'Eh, lads. Will you fight or swim?'
The trance seemed to break as if by some signal, and as the men ran wildly for the forecastle someone called, 'Come on, boys! We'll singe those buggers afore they spits us!'
There was a dull boom and an ill-aimed bail ricocheted across the water fifty yards abeam. Someone aboard the Saphir had evidently manned one of the bow-chasers, but as both vessels were swinging heavily with the wind the shot was fired more from anger than with any hope of immediate success.
The last of the French seamen were leaping over the side, and as the boats' lines were cast off Fowler yelled, 'Ready forrard, sir!'
Bolitho shouted, 'Cut it!'
There was a clang of metal, and as the straining cable parted and cracked back over the bows like a whip the little sloop sheered away with the wind, her deck canting violently with her unexpected freedom.
Allday shouted, `Shall we bum her now, Captain?'
But Bolitho was gripping the rail and leaning out to watch the other ship. He could hear the hoarse bark of commands, the thud of ports, and then the telltale squeak of trucks as some of the guns were run out in readiness to fire.
'Not yet!'
The Saphir's captain probably imagined that this was a cutting-out operation to free the Fairfax before she could be taken elsewhere. Whatever the cost later, he must. be made to go on believing that.
Allday swallowed hard and took a firm grip on his cutlass. As the wind pushed the sloop sideways with the current he could see the Saphir's double line of ports. Some were open, and others were following suit as more and more men poured to their stations in response to the urgent trumpet.
The whole harbour lit up as if from sheet lightning as the first ragged salvo crashed and. echoed between the sides of the inlet. Tall columns spouted skyward on every hand, and Bolitho saw a broken white shape being carried down the sloop's side and heard the screams cut short as the shattered boat capsized and vanished. A ball must have ploughed into one of the Fairfax's own boats and cut it in two even as the released Frenchmen tried to row the wounded to safety.
More guns roared out, their long orange tongues reflected in the swirling water as if from a second battery. Bolitho felt the hull lurch beneath him and heard the splintering crash of torn timbers as the massive balls ploughed through the lower deck, rending the sloop apart and tearing out her heart.
A man screamed, 'Main topmast's cumin' down! Heads below there!'
Figures scattered wildly as the splintered spar and yard thundered across the narrow quarterdeck, the broken stays and shrouds clawing at the men and carrying one bodily over the side..
Again the rippling line of flashes, but this time it was nearer and better aimed. The Fairfax shook like a mad thing, the timbers and buckled deck beams groaning in agony, as if the ship teas cursing the men who stood by and let her perish.
Bolitho clutched the rail as a ball crashed through the starboard bulwark and ploughed into some seamen who were carrying an injured man to safety. He was thankful for the darkness, but the night could not completely hide the tangled and writhing remains which seconds before had been men, nor could it mute the screams and pitiful whimpers from those unlucky enough to hang on to life.
