But he said, 'Take care of yourself, Allday. No risks today.'
He touched his arm, and two of the quarterdeck powder-monkeys nudged each other, the enemy forgotten as they shared something private.
Allday eyed him bleakly. 'Don't insult me, sir. If them buggers come at us, they'll find me ready enough, an' that's no error!'
Bolitho smiled. 'I also know better than to argue, old friend.'
He swung away as Keen said, 'They've made a signal to the Argonaute, sir!'
Midshipman Ferrier lowered his big signals telescope and said, 'It's code, sir.'
Bolitho said, 'Alter course.'
Ready and waiting, the helmsmen put the wheel over, and while others ran to trim the yards. Knocker reported, 'Three points it is, sir! Nor'-east by north!'
Bolitho could feel the difference as the wind thrust more forcefully into Achates' canvas.
Keen said, 'Recall Mr Mountsteven from aloft. I had all but forgotten him again.'
'The Frenchie's changin' tack, sir.'
Bolitho held his breath as the powerful frigate turned a point or so towards Achates and at the same time spread her main-course and driver.
Keen slammed a fist into his palm and exclaimed, 'He's overhauling us, sir.'
A marine dropped something on the poop as he crawled closer to the hammocks and Sergeant Saxton snarled, 'I'll skin you alive if you make another move!'
Bolitho watched the frigate and saw the clear spray bursting over her beak-head and bowsprit. If she continued to overhaul them she would pass down the starboard side at less than half a cable's distance.
He raised the telescope and saw intent faces staring across the lively water, strangely alien after the familiar ones he met every day.
'Stand by on the gun-deck!'
Keen folded his arms and stared at the enemy. As soon as Achates changed tack again she would be laid hard over to leeward by the wind. But her sudden manoeuvre would carry her across the frigate's bows. It was now or never, for in a matter of minutes both vessels would collide once Achates began to turn. 'Man the braces!'
Bolitho gripped the old sword and pressed it against his leg.
‘Now!'
The big wheel squeaked violently as the helmsmen threw their weight on the spokes, and as the yards began to shift with the wind two more ensigns were run up to the main and mizzen trucks.
'Open the ports! Lively there! Run out!'
Bolitho watched the frigate and could not take his eyes from the towering mass of sails and rigging as she swept towards Achates' side.
He heard a trumpet and pictured the wild confusion aboard as the vessel they had been stalking suddenly turned like a lion at bay, her guns bared, each one double-shotted, every captain seeking his own target.
Keen yelled, 'As you bear!' His arm flashed down. 'Fire!'
For an instant Bolitho thought he had left it too long. That he should not have wasted valuable time by hoisting his battle ensigns. If their roles had been reversed…
His mind cringed as the eighteen-pounders of the upper battery hurled themselves inboard, while from the lower gun-deck the heavier roar of the twenty-four-pounders shook the ship from truck to keel.
Men stumbled about in the choking smoke as it was swept through the open ports and above the gangway while Achates exposed her broadside to the wind.
At such a close range the effect was immediate and terrible.
The frigate's foremast and main-topmast staggered under the onslaught of the double-shotted guns. Then spars, sails and rigging joined together in one great avalanche of destruction which thundered over the bows and sides, hurling spray into the air and dragging the hull round.
'Sponge out! Reload!'
Keen shouted, 'Stand by to come about, Mr Quantock.' He did not need telling the need for haste.
As the helm went down again and Achates surged round into the wind, Bolitho was grateful that they had not made more sail. In such a stiff wind the ship might have been in irons, or worse, dismasted.
Gun by gun along the starboard side the captains were holding up their hands as each barrel poked its muzzle through a port.
The frigate was still floundering down-wind under the dragging weight of fallen spars and sails, but Bolitho was not deceived and knew what could happen once that wreckage was hacked away.
'Main-tops'l braces there! Heave! Put your backs into it!'
Achates continued to turn, the frigate suddenly appeared above her starboard bow as if she and not the little two-decker was moving.
To any inexperienced eye it would look like chaos. The boatswain and his party swarming out on the topsail yards to rig the chain-slings, while below them their ship pirouetted around her masts to cross the enemy's stern.
'Starboard battery! Ready!'
Keen had his hand in the air and did not even blink as here and there along the enemy's side a gun fired in defiance. But for her it was already too late, and as Achates crossed the frigate's starboard quarter even those guns fell silent, unable to traverse enough to find a target.
Bolitho saw a ripple of musket fire from the poop and mizzen-top and instant response from Dewar's sharpshooters.
He felt something like sickness in his stomach as Achates' jib-boom passed the frigate's stern. He saw her glittering cabin windows, her name, La Capricieuse, in gold letters across her counter.
Then Achates' starboard carronade belched fire from the forecastle and the enemy's stern and poop appeared to open like an obscene cave. When the carronade's massive ball burst within the crowded hull its packed charge of grape would transform the gun-deck into a slaughter-house.
Men, weapons, the rudder, everything would be blasted aside and incapable of movement for many hours.
Keen cupped his hands. 'Get the royals on her, Mr Quantock!'
He had no time to wait and worry about the carronade's harvest. The frigate was out of the fight.
Once again Achates clawed her way round to hold the wind on her quarter. It was as if nothing had changed. Not a man lost, not a scratch on wood or canvas.
Bolitho climbed the poop ladder and levelled his glass to seek the French seventy-four. Even in distance she looked fierce and enraged, he thought. She was spreading more sails, and had hoisted a signal to her yards for the benefit of her remaining companion.
He heard Knocker shout, 'East-nor'-east, sir!'
The Frenchman was steering north-east. Again they were on a converging tack. But the Argonaute held the wind-gage and would probably try to cripple her enemy by dismasting or by tearing down her rigging with chain-shot while keeping at a safe distance.
Bolitho trained the glass on the dismasted frigate. It must have been a terrible shock. Bolitho remembered his time as a prisoner of war in France. Never again, he had vowed then.
Keen touched his hat. 'All guns loaded and ready, sir.' He glanced aloft. 'Mr Rooke has even managed to rig his nets and slings.'
Bolitho smiled. 'I know it was a risk, Val.'
Keen looked away. 'You gave them fair warning. They'll not need it this time.'
He stared hard at the French seventy-four. Just over a mile distant, while the little frigate was standing away from her heavy consort and tacking down-wind to be ready to dash down and harry Achates from another angle. After seeing the fate of La Capricieuse it was unlikely she would force home an attack yet.
Bolitho also watched the French flagship and felt the nearness of their contest like claws in his loins. She was new, big and better armed. But Achates was more agile, and had proved her worth a hundred times over.
Keen was thinking aloud. 'If he holds the wind we cannot reach him, sir. Whereas he can move in when he pleases or chance some long shots which might score a serious hit.'
'I agree.' Bolitho climbed up to the nettings and peered over them. 'The other frigate, the Diane, she's steering for the west'rd, next she'll come about after us.' He shot him a grim smile. 'To snap at our heels!'
