Free A Brig of War by Richard Woodman Page B

was going to reach across the wind and reduce sail until daylight, reckoning that whatever Hellebore did she would still be visible at daylight with hours to complete what had been started today.
    He muttered his conclusions to Griffiths who pondered them for what seemed an age. ‘If that is the case we would do best to wear round his stern
    ‘
    ‘But that means we might still encounter him tomorrow since we will be making northing,’ added Drinkwater, ‘whereas if we hold on we might slip to windward of him and escape.’
    He heard Griffiths exhale. ‘Very well,’ he said at last.
    There was half a mile between the two ships and still the distance lessened. At any moment they must be observed. Drinkwater looked anxiously aloft and he caught sight of a white blur that was Lestock’s face. Nearby stood Dalziell and Mr Q.
    Hellebore’s mainmast was drawing ahead of the frigate’s stem and Drinkwater could see her topgallants bunching up where the sheets were started and the buntlines gathered them up prior to furling. He was certain that his assumption was correct. But another thought struck him: one of the topmen out on those yards could not fail to see the brig close to leeward of them.
    A minute later the cry of alarm was clearly heard across the three hundred yards of water that separated the two ships. Drinkwater tried to see if her lee ports were open and waited with beating heart for a wild broadside. He doubted that any of their own guns would bear. He could see Rogers looking aft, itching to give the order to fire. Lestock’s fidgetting was growing unbearable while all along the deck the hands peered silently at the ghostly black and grey shape that was the enemy.
    There were several shouts from the stranger and they were unmistakably French. A low murmur ran along Hellebore’s deck.
    ‘Silence there!’ Drinkwater called in a low voice, trusting in their leeward position not to carry his words to the frigate. ‘Mr Q. See to the hoisting of a Dutch ensign.’
    A hail came over the water followed by a gunshot that whistled overhead, putting a hole in the leeward lower stunsail. A second later it tore and blew out of the bolt ropes.
    The horizontal stripes of the Dutch colour caused a small delay, a moment of indecision on the enemy quarterdeck but it was not for long. The unmistakable vertical bands of the French tricolour jerked to her peak and her forward guns barked from her starboard bow. Three of the balls struck home, tearing into the hull beneath the quarterdeck making a shambles of Rogers’s cabin, but not one was hit and then the brig had driven too far ahead so the enemy guns no longer bore. Eighty yards on the beam Hellebore drove past the cruiser’s bowsprit.
    ‘He’s luffing, sir
    ‘
    ‘To give us a broadside, the bastard.’ Griffiths looked along his own deck. ‘Keep her full and bye Mr Lestock, I’ll not lose a fathom, see.’
    Drinkwater watched the French ship turn towards the wind and saw the ragged line of flashes where she fired her starboard battery. Above his head ropes parted and holes appeared in several sails, but not a spar had been hit.
    ‘Ha!’ roared Griffiths in jubilation, ‘look at him, by damn!’
    Drinkwater turned his attention from the fabric of Hellebore to the frigate. He could hear faint cries of alarm or anger as she luffed too far and lost way, saw her sails shiver and the flashes of a second broadside. They never remarked the fall of shot. Griffiths was grinning broadly at Drinkwater.
    ‘Keep those stunsails aloft, mister, even if they are all blown to hell by dawn, we’ll not have another chance like this.’
    ‘Indeed not, sir. May I secure the guns and send the watch below?’
    Griffiths nodded and Drinkwater heard him muttering ‘Lucky by damn,’ to himself.
    ‘Mr Rogers! Secure the guns and pipe the watch below. Mr Lestock, relieve the wheel and lookout, keep her full and bye until further orders.’
    Lestock acknowledged the order and