Only half an hour more of the ebb; time to withdraw from this lee shore before the flood set in.
“Mr Poole! Wear the ship, if you please. Course west by north.”
“Good morning, sir.”
“Good morning, Mr Bush.”
Bush knew better than to indulge in further conversation, besides, he could devote his attention to watching how smartly the hands braced the main‑topsail round, and how Poole handled the ship when the topsails filled. Hornblower swept the northern shore, seeking as ever for any signs of change. His attention was concentrated on the ridge beyond which Captain Jones had met his death, when Poole reported again.
“Wind’s come westerly, sir. Can’t make west by north.”
“Make it west nor’west,” replied Hornblower, his eye still to the telescope.
“Aye aye, sir. West nor’west, full and bye.” There was a hint of relief in Poole’s voice; an officer is likely to be apprehensive when he has to tell his captain that the last order was impossible to execute.
Hornblower was aware that Bush had taken his stand beside him with his telescope trained in the same direction.
“A column of troops, sir,” said Bush.
“Yes.”
Hornblower had detected the head of the column crossing the ridge. He was watching now to see to what length the column would stretch. It continued interminably over the ridge, appearing through his glass like some caterpillar hurrying over the even rougher hillside. Ah! There was the explanation. Beside the caterpillar appeared a string of ants, hurrying even faster along the path. Field artillery — six guns and limbers with a wagon bringing up the rear. The head of the caterpillar was already over the farther ridge before the tail appeared over the nearer one. That was a column of infantry more than a mile long, five thousand men or more — a division of infantry with its attendant battery. It might be merely a portion of the garrison of Brest turning out for exercises and manoeuvres on the hillside, but its movements were somewhat more hurried and purposeful than would be expected in that case.
He swept his glass farther round the coast, and then checked it with a start and a gulp of excitement. There were the unmistakable lugsails of a French coaster coming round the bold headland of Point Matthew. There was another pair — a whole cluster. Could it possibly be that a group of coasters was trying to run the blockade into Brest in broad daylight in the teeth of Hotspur? Hardly likely. Now there was a bang — bang — bang of guns, presumably from the field battery, invisible over the farther ridge. Behind the coasters appeared a British frigate, and then another, showing up at the moment when the coasters began to go about; as the coasters tacked they revealed that they had no colours flying.
“Prizes, sir. And that’s Naiad an’ Doris,” said Bush.
The two British frigates must have swooped down during the night by the passage of the Four inshore of Ushant and cut out these coasters from the creeks of Le Conquet where they had been huddled for shelter. A neat piece of work, undoubtedly, but bringing them out had only been made possible by the destruction of the battery on the Petit Minou. The frigates tacked in the wake of the coasters, like shepherd dogs following a flock of sheep. They were escorting their prizes in triumph back to the Inshore Squadron, whence, presumably they would be dispatched to England for sale. Bush had taken his telescope from his eye and had turned his gaze full on Hornblower, while Prowse came up to join them.
“Six prizes, sir,” said Bush.
“A thousand pound each, those coasters run, sir,” said Prowse. “More, if it’s naval stores, and I expect it is. Six thousand pound. Seven thousand. An’ no trouble selling ’em, sir.”
By the terms of the royal proclamation issued on the declaration of war, prizes taken by the Royal Navy became — as was traditional by now — the absolute property of the captors.
“And we weren’t in sight, sir,” said Bush.
The proclamation also laid down the proviso that the value of the prizes, after a deduction for flag officers, should be shared among those ships in sight at the moment the colours came down or possession was secured.