party took her down the harbour under topsails; but then an unlucky gust coming off the mountains and being an unweatherly awkward griping beast, very much by the head, she stuck fast in the harbour-?mouth and bilged directly, on the mole. So we burnt her to the water-?line, set fire to everything else except the fishing-?boats, blew up the military works on either side with their own powder, and collected all our people: Killick had spent part of his time shopping, and he brought soft tack, fresh milk, butter, coffee, and as many eggs as he could get into his hat. The Livelies behaved well - no breaking into wine-?shops - and it was pretty to see the Marines formed on the quay, as trimly squared as at divisions, although indeed they looked pitiful and lost in checkered shirts and seamen’s frocks. We returned to the boats, all sober and correct, and proceeded to the frigate.
But now the fort up on Cape Bear was playing on the frigate, so she had warped out; and a couple of gunboats came down the coast to get between us and her. They were peppering us with grape from their 18- pounders, and there was nothing for it but to close them; which we did, and I have never been so surprised in my life as when I saw my launch’s crew just as we were about to board the nearest. As you know, they are mostly Chinamen or Malays - a quiet civil well-?behaved set of men. One half of ‘em dived straight into the sea and the rest crouched low against the gunwale. Only Bonden and Killick and young Butler and I gave something of a cheer as we came alongside, and I said to myself, ‘Jack, you’re laid by the lee; you have gone along with a set of fellows that won’t follow you.’ However, there was nothing for it, so we gave our sickly cheer and jumped aboard.
He paused, the ink drying on his pen: the impression was still immensely strong - the Chinese swarming over the side at the last second to avoid the musketry, silently tackling their men in pairs, one tripping him up, ignoring blows, the other cutting his throat to the bone, instantly leaving him for the next - systematic, efficient, working from aft forward, with nothing but a few falsetto cries of direction: no fury, no hot rage. And immediately after the first assault, the Javamen shooting up the other side, having dived under the keel, their wet brown hands gripping the rail all along the gunboat’s length: Frenchmen shrieking, running up and down the slippery deck, the great lateen flapping to and fro; and still that silent close-?work, knife alone, and cords - a terrible quiet eagerness. His own opponent in the bows, a thickset determined seaman in a woollen cap, going over the side at last, the water clouding red over him. Himself shouting ‘Belay that sheet, there. Down with her helm. Prisoners to the fore-?hatch,’ and Bonden’s shocked reply. ‘There ain’t no prisoners, sir.’ And then the deck, bright, bright red in the sun: the Chinamen squatting in pairs, methodically, quickly stripping the dead, the Malays piling the heads in neat heaps like round-?shot, and one routing in the belly of a corpse. Two men at the wheel already, their spoil next to them in a bundle: the sheet properly belayed. He had seen some ugly sights - the slaughter-?house of a seventy-?four during a hard-?fought fleet engagement, boardings by the dozen, the bay of Aboukir after the Orion blew up -but he felt his stomach close and heave: the taking was professional, as professional as anything could be, and it sickened him with his trade. A strong impression: but how to convey it when you are no great hand with a pen? In the lamplight he stared at the gash in his forearm, fresh blood still oozing through the bandage, and reflected; all at once it occurred to him that of course he had not the slightest wish to convey it; nor anything like it. As far as dear Sophie was concerned life at sea was to be - why, not exactly an eternal picnic, but something not altogether unlike; occasional hardships, to be sure (shortage of coffee, fresh milk, vegetables), and guns going off now and then, and a clash of swords, but without any real people getting hurt: those that happened to die did so instantly, from wounds that could not be seen; they were only figures in the casualty-?list. He dipped his pen and went on.
But I was mistaken; they boarded over both sides, behaved remarkably, and the work was over in a few minutes. The other gunboat sheered off as soon as the Lively, shooting very neat with her bow guns, sent a couple of balls over her. So we took the boats in tow, joined the frigate, made sail in double-?quick time, recovered our hawsers, and stood out to sea, steering ESE1/2E; for I am afraid we cannot drop down to Barcelona after the Diom?de, as that would get us far to the leeward of Minorca and I might be late for my rendezvous, which would never do. As it is, we have time and to spare, and expect to raise Fornells at dawn.
Dearest Sophie, you will forgive these blots, I trust; the ship is skipping about on a short cross-?sea as we lie hove-?to, and most of the day I have spent trying to be in three places at once if not more. You will say I ought not to have gone ashore at Port-?Vendres, and that it was selfish and unfeeling to Simmons; and indeed generally speaking a captain should leave these things to his first lieutenant - it is his great chance for distinguishing himself. But I could not quite tell how they would behave, do you see? Not that I doubted their conduct, but it seemed to me they were perhaps the kind of men who would fight best in a defensive battle or a regular fleet action - that perhaps they lacked the speed and dash for this sort of thing, for want of practice - they have done no cutting-?out. That is why I earned it out in broad daylight, it being easier to see what goes wrong; and glad I am I did, too, for it was nip and tuck at moments. Upon the whole they all behaved well - the Marines
did wonders, as they always do - but once or twice things might have taken an awkward turn. The ship was hulled in a few places, her foremast wounded in the hounds, her cross-?jack yardarm carried away, and her rigging cut up a little; but she could fight an action tomorrow, and our losses were very slight, as you will see from the public letter. Her captain suffered from nothing but extreme apprehension for his personal safety and the total loss of his breakfast-?cup, shattered in being struck down into the hold on clearing for action.
But I promise not to do so again; and this is a promise I dare say Fate will help me keep, for if this wind holds, I should be in Gibraltar in a few days, with no ship to do it from.
Do it from, he wrote again; and leaning his head on his arms he went fast asleep.
‘Fornells one point to the starboard bow, sir,’ said the first lieutenant.
‘Very good,’ said Jack in a low voice. His head was aching as though it might split and he was filled with gloom which so often came after an action, ‘Keep her standing off and on. Is the gunboat cleaned up yet?’
‘No, sir. I am afraid she is not,’ said Simmons.
Jack said nothing. Simmons had had a hard day yesterday, barking his shins cruelly as he ran up the stone steps of Port-?Vendres quay, and naturally he was less active; but even so Jack was a little surprised. He walked over to the side and looked down into their prize: no, she most certainly had not been cleaned. The severed hand that he had last seen bright red was now blackish brown and shrunken - you would have said a huge dead spider. He turned away, looked aloft at the boatswain and his party in the rigging, over the other side at the carpenter and his mates at work on a shot-?hole, and with what he meant to be a smile he said, ‘Well, first things first. Perhaps we shall be able to send her away for Gibraltar this evening. I should like to have a thorough look at her first, however.’ This was the first time he had ever had to reproach Simmons even by implication, and the poor man took it very hard; he hobbled along, just keeping pace with his captain, his face so concerned that Jack was about to utter some softening remark when Killick appeared again.
‘Coffee’s up, sir,’ he said crossly; and as Jack hurried into his cabin he heard the words ’stone cold now - on the table since six bells - told ‘im again and again -enough trouble to get it, and now it’s left to go cold.’ They seemed to be addressed to the Marine sentry, whose look of shocked horror, of refusal to hear or participate in any way, was in exact proportion to the respect, even to the awe, in which Jack was held in the ship.
In point of fact the coffee was still so hot that it almost burnt his mouth. ‘Prime coffee, Killick,’ he said, after the first pot. A surly grunt, and without turning round Killick said, ‘I suppose you’ll be wanting another ‘ole pot, sir.’
Hot and strong, how well it went down! A pleasurable activity began to creep into his dull, torpid mind. He hummed a piece of Figaro, breaking off to butter a fresh piece of toast. Killick was a cross-?grained bastard, who supposed that if he sprinkled his discourse with a good many sirs, the words in between did not signify: but still he
