Free The Corvette by Richard Woodman

lieutenant touched his hat. ‘Load that brass popgun with ball. Maximum elevation.’
    â€˜Aye, aye, sir.’
    â€˜Do you purpose to fire on him, friend?’ There was anxiety in Sawyers’s voice.
    â€˜Merely putting a stone in David’s sling,’ said Drinkwater raising his glass.
    â€˜But I do not approve . . .’
    Drinkwater ignored him. He was staring at Ellerby. The Greenlander was pointing to the men ascending
Melusine
’s foremast and spreading out along the foreyard, casting off alternate gaskets.
    â€˜Pass me the trumpet, Mr Hill.’ He took the megaphone and clambered up into the mizen rigging.
    â€˜Take station, Ellerby! do you hear me! Or take the consequences!’
    He watched the big man leap into
Nimrod
’s mizen chains and they confronted one another across eighty feet of water that sloshed and hissed between them, confused by the wash of the two ships.
    â€˜Consequences? What consequences, eh, Captain?’ There was a quite audible roar of laughter from
Nimrod
’s deck. Without climbing down Drinkwater turned his head.
    â€˜When his mainmast bears, Mr Rispin, you may open fire.’
    Drinkwater felt the wave of concussion from the brass carronade at the larboard hance. The hole that appeared in Nimrod’s main topsail must have opened a seam, for the sail split from head to foot. A cheer filled
Melusine
’s waist and Drinkwater leapt inboard. ‘Silence there!’ he bawled. ‘Give her the forecourse, Mr Germaney.’
    The big sail fell in huge flogs of billowing canvas. In an instant the waisters had tailed on the sheets and hauled its clews hard down.
Melusine
seemed to lift in the water and start forward.
Nimrod
fell astern.
    â€˜Tell me, Captain Sawyers,’ Drinkwater asked conversationally, ‘do you throw a harpoon in person?’
    â€˜Aye, Captain, I do.’
    â€˜And cause more harm than that ball, I dare say.’ Drinkwater was smiling but the Quaker’s eyes were filled with a strange look.
    â€˜That was a massive pride that thou wounded, Captain Drinkwater, greater than the greatest fish in the sea.’
    But Drinkwater did not hear. He was sweeping the horizon ahead, beyond the low headland of Spurn and its slim lighthouse. There were no topsails to betray the presence of a frigate cruising for men.
    â€˜Mr Hill, please to back the main topsail and heave the
Faithful
’s boat alongside. Captain Sawyers, I am obliged to you, sir, for your assistance, but I think you may return to your ship.’ He held out his hand and the Quaker shook it firmly.
    â€˜Recollect what happened to David, sir. I give you God’s love.’

Chapter Four
June 1803

The Captain’s Cloak
    Captain Drinkwater nodded to his first lieutenant. ‘Very well, Mr Germaney, you may secure the guns and pipe the hammocks down.’ He turned to the lieutenant of the watch. ‘Mr Rispin, shorten sail now and put the ship under easy canvas.’
    â€˜Aye, aye, sir.’
    Drinkwater paced aft, ignoring the stream of superfluous orders with which Mr Rispin conducted the affairs of the deck. He was tempted to conclude the young officer hid his lack of confidence beneath this apparent efficiency. It deceived no-one but himself. But in spite of misgivings about his lieutenants Drinkwater was well satisfied with the ship.
Melusine
handled like a yacht. He stared aft watching a fulmar quartering the wake, its sabre wings rigid as it moved with astonishing agility. He eased his shoulders beneath his coat aware that he could do with some exercise. There were other compensations besides the qualities of his former French corvette. Mr Hill, the master, had proved an able officer, explaining the measures taken in the matter of stores for the forthcoming voyage. Furthermore his two mates, Quilhampton and Gorton, seemed to be coming along well. Drinkwater was pleased with Hill’s efficiency. He seemed to have