The Corvette

foretopmast staysail, leading the slower whalers towards the open waters of the North Sea.

'He hath the pride of Goliath before the Philistine Host,' Sawyers nodded in Ellerby's direction. 'He shall meet David at God's will.'

Drinkwater looked at the Quaker. He was not surprised that there were divisions of opinion and rifts between a group of individuals as unique as the whale-captains. Once on the fishing grounds there would be a rivalry between them that Drinkwater foresaw would make his task almost impossible. But the remark had either a touch of the venom of jealousy or of a confidence. Given what he had seen of Sawyers he doubted the man was a hypocrite and marked the remark as a proof of the Quaker's friendship. He responded.

'I am most grateful, Captain Sawyers, for your kind offer to pilot us clear of the Humber. It is an intricate navigation, given to much change, but I had not supposed that a gentleman of your persuasion would countenance boarding a King's ship.' He gestured towards the lines of cannon housed against the rail.

'Ah, but thou hast also doubtless heard how those of my persuasion, as thou has it, are not averse to profit, eh?' Sawyers smiled.

'Indeed I have,' replied Drinkwater smiling back.

'Well I shall confess to thee a love of the fishery, both for its profits and its nearness to God. It seems that thy presence is indispensable this season and so,' he shrugged, 'in order to practise my calling, sir, I have needs to assist thee to sea. Now, thou must bring her to larboard two points and square the yards before that scoundrel Ellerby forces you ashore on the Burcom.'

Nimrod was foaming up on their quarter, a huge bow wave hissing at her forefoot.

'May I give her the forecourse, sir?' asked Germaney eagerly.

'Aye, sir, he knows well enough to keep astern according to the order of sailing,' added Hill indignantly.

Drinkwater shook his head. 'This is not a race. Mr Q!'

'Sir?'

'Make to Nimrod, 'Keep proper station'.'

'Aye, aye, sir.'

Drinkwater turned his full attention to the Nimrod. She was almost level with the Melusine's mizen now, no more than a hundred feet off as she too swung to larboard.

In the waist of the sloop men milled about watching the whaler and looking aft to see the reaction of their new commander. Officers too, advised of the trial of strength taking place above, had come up from their watch below. Drinkwater saw Singleton's sober black figure watching from the rail while Mr Gorton explained what was happening.

Drinkwater felt an icy determination fill him. After the days of being put upon, of being the victim of circumstance and not its master, he secretly thanked Ellerby for this public opportunity. By God, he was damned if he would crowd an inch of canvas on his ship.

Quilhampton and little Frey were sending up the signal. It was a simple numeral, one of two score of signals he had circulated to his charges the evening before. Mr Frey had even tinted the little squared flags drawn in the margins with the colours from his water-colour box. Drinkwater smiled at the boy's keenness.

Amidships the newly joined Tregembo nudged the man next to him.

'See that, mate. When he grins like that the sparks fly.' There was renewed interest in the conduct of their captain, particularly as the Nimrod continued to surge past.

Drinkwater turned to his first lieutenant. 'Give him the larboard bow chaser unshotted, if you please.'

'Larbowlines! Spitfire battery stand by!'

It was all very modish, thought Drinkwater ruefully, the divisions told off by name as if Melusine had been a crack seventy-four. Still, the men jumped eagerly enough to their pieces. He could see the disappointment as Germaney arrived forward and stood all the guncrews down except that at the long twelve pounder in the eyes.

Germaney looked aft and Drinkwater nodded.

The gun roared and Drinkwater saw the wadding drop right ahead of Nimrod's bowsprit. But still she came on.

'Mr Germaney! Come aft!'

Germaney walked aft. 'Sir?'

'Have your topmen aloft ready to let fall the forecourse, but not before I say. Mr Rispin!' The junior lieutenant touched his hat. 'Load that brass popgun with ball. Maximum elevation.'

'Aye, aye, sir.'

'Do you propose to fire on him, friend?' There was anxiety in Sawyers's voice.

'Merely putting a stone in David's sling,' said Drinkwater raising his glass.

'But I do not approve…'

Drinkwater ignored him. He was staring at Ellerby. The Greenlander was pointing to the men ascending Melusine's foremast and spreading out along the foreyard, casting off alternate gaskets.

'Pass me the trumpet, Mr Hill.' He took the megaphone and clambered up into the mizen rigging.

'Take station, Ellerby! do you hear me! Or take the consequences!'

He watched the big man leap into Nimrod's mizen chains and they confronted one another across eighty feet of water that sloshed and hissed between them, confused by the wash of the two ships.

'Consequences? What consequences, eh, Captain?' There was a quite audible roar of laughter from Nimrod's deck. Without climbing down Drinkwater turned his head.

'When his mainmast bears, Mr Rispin, you may open fire.'

Drinkwater felt the wave of concussion from the brass carronade at the larboard hance. The hole that appeared in Nimrod's main topsail must have opened a seam, for the sail split from head to foot. A cheer filled Melusine's waist and Drinkwater leapt inboard. 'Silence there!' he bawled. 'Give her the forecourse, Mr Germaney.'

The big sail fell in huge flogs of billowing canvas. In an instant the waisters had tailed on the sheets and hauled its clews hard down. Melusine seemed to lift in the water and start forward. Nimrod fell astern.

'Tell me, Captain Sawyers,' Drinkwater asked conversationally, 'do you throw a harpoon in person?'

'Aye, Captain, I do.'

'And cause more harm than that ball, I dare say.' Drinkwater was smiling but the Quaker's eyes were filled with a strange look.

'That was a massive pride that thou wounded, Captain Drinkwater, greater than the greatest fish in the sea.'

But Drinkwater did not hear. He was sweeping the horizon ahead, beyond the low headland of Spurn and its slim lighthouse. There were no topsails to betray the presence of a frigate cruising for men.

'Mr Hill, please to back the main topsail and heave the Faithful's boat alongside. Captain Sawyers, I am obliged to you, sir, for your assistance, but I think you may return to your ship.' He held out his hand and the Quaker shook it firmly.

'Recollect what happened to David, sir. I give you God's love.'

Chapter Four The Captain's Cloak

June 1803 

Captain Drinkwater nodded to his first lieutenant. 'Very well, Mr Germaney, you may secure the guns and pipe the hammocks down.' He turned to the lieutenant of the watch. 'Mr Rispin, shorten sail now and put the ship under easy canvas.'