James groaned horribly, and made a commotion in the narrow storeroom, banging and thudding as if in slumping collapse. As he had hoped, the guard came to the door.
‘Are you all right, sir?’
James was silent.
‘Are you all right, there?’ Anxiously now.
James answered with another dreadful groan, fainter and more piteous than the earlier ones, and followed it with a gasping, choking cough. The guard unlocked and opened the door, peered in, then ventured inside.
James seized him from behind the door, one arm fiercely round his neck, the marlin spike at his throat, and grabbed the musket with his other hand.
‘Be very quiet, now.’ Low and menacing, in the guard’s ear. ‘Else I will cut your throat.’ Pressing the iron spike harder against the man’s skin. The guard struggled very briefly, then was compliant. James felt for and removed the pistol at the guard’s waist. He relaxed his grip on the guard’s neck, and as the man stumbled forward James struck him on the back of the skull with the pistol butt. The guard dropped to the decking and lay still. James left him there, stepped cautiously out of the storeroom, locked the door, and a moment after was at the ladder.
He came up into the lower deck, musket at the ready, aware that he had no idea where his boat’s crew were being held. There was nobody he could see in the forward part of the lower deck. Hammocks had not been sent down, because the ship was ready for action. Every man was at quarters. There was not a single lantern burning, and the light was very dim. James peered aft, then forrard again, and thought he discerned movement in the darkness. He moved forward. In a carrying whisper:
‘Clinton Huff, there. Can you hear me?’
A scuffling movement, and the clinking of shackles.
‘We are here, sir.’ A hoarse whisper in response. ‘Confined in the sick quarters right forrard.’
James’s head bumped against a hanging lantern, and he found and struck a light, and lit the lantern. Held it up, and went forrard. He found his boat’s crew lying very cramped in a row together behind a canvas screen, their hands bound with twine, and their feet shackled to an improvised bilboes bar set into the timbers in the small space of the sick bay. The bar had a stout padlock at one end.
‘Thank God you has found us, sir. Can you release us from these irons?’
‘I must find the key to that damned lock.’ Holding the screen aside.
‘One of their officers has that, sir. You will never—’
‘Then I must smash the lock with the butt of the musket.’ Decisively, putting down the lantern on the decking, and lifting the musket.
The sound of footfalls on the ladder aft, and James seized up the lantern and blew it out. A voice:
‘Who is that forrard, there? Is that you, Joseph?’
James was silent. A figure came through the gloom, carrying a small lantern. The figure lifted the light, approaching the canvas screen, and as he did James struck him full in the forehead with the butt of the musket, and felled him. James snatched the lantern from his grasp before it could clatter to the deck, stepped over the unconscious form, and again lifted the screen. He raised the musket by the barrel and with a single smashing blow of the butt he broke the padlock open, and released his boat’s crew from their split shackles, swiftly, one by one. He found a knife in the belt of the unconscious man, and cut the bindings of twine from his men’s wrists.
‘We must get into the boat.’
‘Our boat, sir?’ Clinton Huff, rubbing his wrists to ease the pain of returning circulation.
‘Ay, the pinnace. It is towing astern, and I believe the swivels have not been discovered.’
‘How will we pass along the deck without drawing notice to ourself, sir?’
‘Terces will soon go into action against Expedient, which ain’t far behind. We will wait until she does, and the great guns are fired. In the commotion and din of batteries firing and reloading, we will dash along the deck with sand buckets, water buckets, whatever we may find. There will be the usual shouting and cursing of an action. We will add to it – “Make way, there! Water lighting along!” – and so forth. You have me?’
‘Yes, sir.’ Dubiously. ‘May I say something, please, sir?’
‘Well?’ Glancing at Huff in the light of the small lantern.
‘The armoury in this ship is upon this deck, sir, behind a bulkhead aft. Whilst we was laying here we could hear the armourer preparing the small arms with his mate. New flints for the pistols and the like. If we armed ourself, sir, before we went on deck, we could make a proper fight of it, and give ourself a better chance of getting into our boat.’
‘Fight?’ James, cocking his head on one side. ‘Make a fight of it? Christ’s blood, man, we should be cut down at once.’ Shaking his head now. ‘Nay, we must make our escape by pure bluff. Follow me, and all of you will survive.’ Glancing at each man in turn. ‘Well, are you with me?’
‘Ay, sir.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘We are ready, sir.’
A general murmur of agreement. Except for Clinton Huff, who was silent.
‘Huff?’
‘I . . . no disrespect to you, sir, but I should prefer a brace of sea pistols and a cutlass.’
‘That will not answer. I do not doubt your courage, but we must save ourselves by a trick, this night.’ A breath, then: ‘As soon as we hear the order to open fire, we will move. Follow me, and stay close. As we go on deck seize buckets, rope, anything that lies to hand, and look dutiful and urgent.’ Glancing at each man again. ‘For the present we will conceal ourselves behind this screen – and wait.’
And he blew out the light
*
‘I believe the Danish brig has just now gone about, sir, and may be fleeing to the west, toward the open sea.’ Mr Loftus, in answer to Captain Rennie’s exasperated question as to why Expedient was not apparently ‘closing the enemy’.
‘What!’ Rennie brought up his night glass, and peered ahead. And saw the retreating stern lantern of the brig. ‘Hell’s fire, the bloody dog. The cowardly cur.’ He brought down the glass, and sighed. ‘Well well, we cannot pursue her in darkness in these waters, that would be folly, Mr Loftus. We must turn and fight Terces, instead.’
‘Very good, sir. Mr Tangible! Stand by to go about!’
The calls, high and carrying.
Presently, amid the urgent activity of turning the ship round, the gunner Mr Storey came on deck with his mate, who was carrying a bundle of rockets, and another man behind carrying a second bundle. Rennie went forrard to the waist to look at the rockets.
‘I have made up a round dozen of white star, sir.’ Mr Storey, touching his hat with blackened fingers. ‘Four-pounders, as you asked, in three-inch cylinders and long sticks. I thought to fire them from the tafferel, sir, with your permission, well clear of all sails.’
‘Very well, Mr Storey, thankee. I should prefer to launch ’em from the bow, but nay, we cannot risk our headsails catching fire. Carry the rockets aft, by all means.’
He turned to stride aft, and saw bright flashes in a line to the east. A brief, suspended moment, then the air droned and whined horribly all round the ship, followed by:
THUD-BOOM THUD-BOOM
THUD THUD THUD THUD
Fountains of spray to larboard and starboard, and astern. Water cascaded across the deck. Rennie ducked his head, overtaken a moment by the sudden attack.
‘Larboard battery, stand by to fire!’ Lieutenant Leigh, at his station.
Rennie now recalled his earlier instruction to Mr Storey, ran to the breast-rail, and bellowed: ‘Hold your fire, there! I do not want roundshot fired at Terces!’
At the same moment he bawled this instruction, Mr Leigh: ‘Larboard battery! Fire!’
BOOM BOOM BOOM-BOOM
BOOM BOOM BOOM
The deck timbers shuddered under Rennie’s feet, and acrid fiery smoke gusted the length of the ship, scattering powder grit and fragments of wad.
The broadsi
de fell wide of the target, the roundshot droning away and smashing harmlessly into a rock face far beyond Terces. The echo of the guns sounded in a series of shock waves thudding back from rocky darkness along the fjord:
BOOM-B-BOOM-B-BOOM
In the sulphur stink of burned powder Rennie sucked in a deep breath:
‘Mr Leigh! We will reload with grape! Grape, d’y’hear me!’
‘Ay-ay, sir!’ Calling in acknowledgement.
‘Mr Storey!’
‘Sir?’ At the tafferel.
‘Loose off two of your rockets right quick! Give me height and light!’
The hiss of fuses, sparks, and sudden tongues of fire as the rockets blasted up from the tafferel, and soared into the night:
CRACK CRACK
and bursting, brilliant stars lit the whole of the fjord from side to side, lit Terces beating diagonally toward Expedient on the starboard tack, lit every line and yard and sail of Expedient, and every man on her deck.
In the brilliance the flashes at Terces’ gunports were less explosively bright than in darkness, but the rushing balloons of smoke were all too clear. The immediate drone of roundshot going wide, and the shattering concussion of a single shot that had found its mark forrard. The larboard cathead and knight’s-heads, several timber heads, and the fife-rail were shot away. The fished bower anchor writhed up, splitting in pieces, and fell into the water in a froth of splashes. A mortally wounded fo’c’sleman shrieked in agony, the sound deadened by the simultaneous echoing
BOOM-BOOM BOOM BOOM-BOOM-BOOM THUD-BOOM
of Terces’ carronades.
‘God damn the bloody villain! I will teach him his lesson, by Christ!’ Rennie stood at the breast-rail, his night glass pointed like a weapon. ‘Larboard battery! Why don’t ye fire, Mr Leigh!’
THUD-BANG THUD-BANG BANG-BANG-BANG BOOM
As the larboard broadside thundered in response, and Expedient’s timbers buzzed in vibration right through to her keelson.
*
A hail of grapeshot swept across Terces’ decks. James and his boat’s crew, emerging into the waist, threw themselves flat under a maelstrom of debris as fittings, shrouds, lines and rails were split, torn, smashed into fragments.
‘Now is our chance, lads.’ James, lifting his head after a moment.
Screams and wails, and fierce curses. The cracking crash of a broken spar falling. And bellowed from aft:
‘Starboard battery reload!’
‘Come on, lads.’ James, getting up on his legs. ‘Snatch up anything you find, and run aft.’ He ran up the ladder and on to the quarterdeck, and found a scene of bloody confusion. Tangles of rope and torn canvas, smashed rails, broken men.
‘Damage party! Make way, there!’ he bawled, looping a length of rope over his shoulder and grabbing a bucket from where it had fallen by the breast-rail. He glanced over his right shoulder and saw that Huff and the others were following close behind. He ran on, dodging round a slewed gun carriage and two fallen men.
‘Make way, there!’ he bawled again. In the scrambling, cursing, urgent milling of men reloading guns amid the confusion of wreckage and the wounded and dying, James and his crew passed aft toward the wheel and the tafferel without hindrance. As he ran and swerved James became aware that the whole of Terces’ deck was illuminated by a stark white light. As soon as he had noticed it the light abruptly faded and was gone, and darkness lay over the injured ship.
As he came abeam of the binnacle, James felt a hand on his left arm, and turned, thinking it was Clinton Huff. In the binnacle glow he saw Captain Broadman’s face.
‘By God, it is you!’
And he tried to seize James by the throat. James wrenched free and struck the captain a swinging blow on the temple with the butt of his pistol. The captain dropped to the deck and sprawled there. James ran aft to the tafferel, and peered astern. And saw not one boat but three, towing in line. Expedient’s pinnace was the last, two chain distant, at least.
‘Christ’s blood, we cannot quickly haul in the weight of all three.’ Muttered. He turned to Clinton Huff, who was now at his elbow. ‘We must all get into that first boat, and cut the cable.’
‘Ay, sir . . . but how?’
‘We must jump, and swim.’
‘I cannot swim, sir.’
‘Nor me, neither.’
‘Nay, I cannot.’
Several voices together, in negative accord.
‘Very well, I will jump and swim to the first boat, and—’
‘Nay, sir. Let us all clap on to the line and haul together, and bring the first boat under the counter, and then drop down into it.’
‘Haul the weight of three towing boats?’
This huddled conversation had been noticed. There were two stern lanterns, one at each side of the tafferel, and in their glow the knot of men could be seen. The confusion on the quarterdeck, as on the decks further forrard, was becoming order, and a figure now strode aft out of the darkness.
‘You there, aft! Lend a hand here, to send this damned wreckage over the side! Jump, damn you!’
‘Wait . . . wait . . .’James, softly, as the figure approached.
‘D’y’hear me, there!’
James now stepped out of the light toward the figure, as if to obey, and swung the pistol butt. It connected with a sharp little thud, there was a gasping grunt and James caught the collapsing figure in his arms. Blood dripped over his hand as he lowered the sagging weight to the deck. Three seamen, shouting, now began to run aft toward James, and as he straightened two further star rockets burst over the fjord in a dazzle of light. Instantly followed by a further broadside of grapeshot.
‘Throw y’selves down!’ James, to his own men, as he flung himself to the deck.
Iron grape twanged and smashed across the quarterdeck, ricocheted whining from hammock cranes and guns, shattered the spokes of the wheel, and killed the helmsman even as he ducked to escape the onslaught of metal. One of the seamen running aft dropped in his tracks as his skull exploded. Blood sprayed aft over the skylight. The driver sail was pocked through in three places, and the boom hit in a spray of splinters. Debris rattled and scattered across the decking. The sound of the guns came following like a series of blows:
BOOM-B-BOOM BANG-BANG-BOOM
BANG BANG BANG
And now the echoes, racketing and thudding along the rock walls of the fjord, and booming back on the night air.
More screams and groans, and hoarse curses. A loosened block fell to the deck with a clatter, and a length of line snaked after it, and whipped over the larboard rail.
‘Cheerly now, lads. Clap on to the line and—’
But the boat’s crew were already heaving, urgently and energetically heaving, hand over hand. James joined them, clapped on to the hawser-laid rope, and pulled his weight.
The first boat came nearer, and nearer, and was soon nearly under the counter. James continually glanced over his shoulder, but the damage and injury forrard were now so great that their activity at the tafferel was passing unremarked. The stark brilliance of the star rockets died into blackness as abruptly as a lamp blown out. Only the glow of the stern lanterns showed James and his men their task. Water rinsed and rode away from the rudder, and swirled astern round the line of boats. The tethering rope ran through the starboard chase port in the tafferel and was secured to the boom iron above the main brace sheave, inboard of the hammock cranes on the starboard side, and James now tied off and secured the slack. The leading boat lay riding and wriggling right under the counter immediately abaft the rudder.
‘Now, lads.’ James, a last glance over his shoulder. ‘Into the boat, as quick as you like.’
One by one they went over the tafferel and slid down the rope into the bow of the boat, and scrambled aft over the thwarts. James dropped down last, pulled the stolen knife from his waist, and cut the line. The three boats rocked away astern, drifting free.
*
A cloud of black smoke rose from Expedient’s waist,
lit from within by roiling orange fire. Captain Rennie had ordered his ship to go about, then to drift as if helpless. The smoke came from a tub of burning oakum and Stockholm tar placed in the waist on Rennie’s instruction by the gunner Mr Storey.
‘I fear she is heading away east in the fjord, sir.’ Bernard Loftus, peering at Terces’ stern lights. ‘Shall we fire our remaining rockets?’
‘No thankee, Bernard. We may need ’em at a later time.’ Rennie lowered his glass. ‘Mr Leigh!’
‘Sir?’ At the waist ladder.
‘Y’may stand the hands down.’
‘Stand down. Very good, sir.’ And he stepped down into the waist and gave the order.
‘We are . . . we are letting Terces go, sir?’ Bernard Loftus.
‘We are.’
‘I thought you had ordered the fire and smoke in an attempt to draw Terces closer, and then press home our attack.’
‘Nay, nay. I wish him to retreat, thinking he has crippled me. He will then attempt to give me the slip in darkness, as he did at the Nore. Only this time I shall be ready for him. Even as he flies to the open sea I shall lie in wait, then pursue.’
‘Should we attempt to find those boats we saw astern of her, adrift, in that last star burst?’ The master turned his head away from the acrid smoke drifting aft, and coughed.
‘Hm. I should like to recover our pinnace, but unless the boats are close to I do not see how we may do it.’
As he finished speaking there came out of the darkness a hailing cry:
‘Ahoy, there, Expedient!’
‘Good God . . . it cannot be.’ Rennie, running to the rail.
The sound of oars, and the pinnace came gliding into the glow of Expedient’s stern light.
The Pursuit Page 16