Hornblower and the Hotspur. C. S. Forester

“Mizzen topsail yard! Unmask those lights.”

That was a bad moment; the lights might have gone out, the lad stationed on the yard might be dead. He had to speak again.

“Show those lights!”

Discipline kept the hand up there from hailing back, but there they were – one, two, three red lights along the mizzen topsail yard. Even against the wind he heard a wild order being shouted from the French frigate excitement, even panic in the voice. The French captain was ordering his guns not to fire. Perhaps he was thinking that some horrible mistake had already been made; perhaps in the bewildering darkness he was confusing Hotspur with her recent victim not so far off. At least he was holding fire; at least he was going off to leeward, and a hundred yards to leeward in that darkness was the equivalent of a mile in ordinary conditions.

“Mask those lights again!”

No need to give the Frenchman a mark for gunfire or an objective to which to beat back when he should clear up the situation. Now a voice spoke out of the darkness close to him.

“Bush reporting, sir. I’ve left the guns for the moment, if you give me leave, sir. Fore-tops’ls all across the starboard battery. Can’t fire those guns in any case yet.”

“Very well, Mr Bush. What’s the damage?”

“Foremast’s gone six feet above the deck, sir. Everything went over the starboard side. Most of the shrouds must have held – it’s all trailing alongside.”

“Then we’ll get to work – in silence, Mr Bush. I want every stitch of canvas got in first, and then we’ll deal with the wreckage.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

Stripping the ship of her canvas would make her far less visible to the enemy’s eyes, and would reduce Hotspur’s leeway while she rode to her strange sea anchor. Next moment it was the carpenter, up from below.

“We’re making water very fast, sir. Two feet in the hold. My men are plugging one shot hole aft by the magazine but there must be another one for’ard in the cable tier. We’ll need hands at the pumps, sir, an’ I’d like half a dozen more in the cable tier.”

“Very well.”

So much to be done in a nightmare atmosphere of unreality, and then came an explanation of some of the unreality. Six inches of snow lay on the decks, piled in deeper drifts against the vertical surfaces, silencing as well as impeding every movement. But most of the sense of unreality stemmed from simple exhaustion, nervous and physical, and the exhaustion had to be ignored while the work went on, trying to think clearly in the numbing darkness, with the knowledge that the Trepieds shoal lay close under their lee, on a falling tide. Getting up sail when the wreckage had been cleared away, and discovering by sheer seaman’s instinct how to handle Hotspur under sail without her foremast, with only the feel of the wind on his cheeks and the wavering compass in the binnacle to guide him, and the shoals waiting for him if he miscalculated.

“I’d like you to set the sprit-sail, Mr Bush, if you please.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

A dangerous job for the hands that had to spread the spritsail under the bowsprit in the dark, with all the accustomed stays swept away by the loss of the foremast, but it had to be done to supply the necessary leverage forward to keep Hotspur from turning into the wind. Setting the ponderous main-course, because the main-topmast could not be trusted to carry sail. Then creeping westward, with the pumps clanking lugubriously, and the blackness turning slowly to dark grey, and the dark grey turning slowly to light grey, with the coming of the dawn and the cessation of the snowfall. Then it was light enough to see the disorder of the decks and the trampled snow – snow stained pink here and there, in wide areas. Then at last came the sight of the Doris, and help at hand; it might almost be called safety, except that later they would have to beat back against contrary winds and with a jury foremast and in a leaky ship, to Plymouth and refitting.

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *