Free 21: The Final Unfinished Voyage of Jack Aubrey by Patrick O’Brian Page A

its prodigious roar, a great jet of smoke and flame enveloping the cannon-ball and the gun-carriage and cannon raced inboard with a screech of trunions under the arched bodies of the crew until the whole was brought up short with a great twang of the tackles; but already there were immensely active hands cleaning any smouldering remnants from the gun, swabbing the barrel, ramming down the next charge of powder, then the ball, then the wads, well thumped down, the crew barely pausing for breath but running the whole mass up against the side with a crash, where the gun-captain pricked and primed his cock, unmoved by the truly appalling discharge of his right-hand neighbour as he and his mates made all fast and levelled the warm gun again.
    The firing went clean down the battleship’ s side at a fine even pace, and even the aftermost piece had its shot at the frail remnant that drifted by. But by then the little girls had almost no voice to screech with nor even the emotional power to do so: the enormous and repeated din, the vibration of the ship and the air, the great flashes and the dense clouds of smoke drifting away to leeward had overpowered them; and the near-stupefaction of their elders was very impressive too. Sophie had seen sloops and moderate frigates at gun-exercise, but never a ship of the line, and she was quite remarkably perturbed, not only by the unconscio n able din but infinitely more by the reflection that this was what his profession inflicted upon her husband: or at least the way of life to whi ch it exposed him. Christine, to be sure, had fired many and many a fowling-piece and even upon occasion a rifled gun, but nothing imaginably on this scale, and she rema ined quite mute, holding Brigid’ s hand, until after a good deal of calling-out ri ght forward the cry came down, “On deck, on deck there. Target’ s away, sir.”
    So it was, a great long affair of all kinds of old casks and nameless objects from the entire squadron clapped together and furnished with enough cloth of a sort to carry the whole downwind. The target appeared on the starboard bow, towed by boats that cast off as soon as it was well on cours e. An active intelligent master’ s mate ran down the broadside: “ No fire until the Admiral gives the word: then count two between each shot.”
    A profound silence: the target drifted halfway down the Suffolk ’ s length. “Fire,” said Jack.
    The first gun and before it quite ran in the second and so clear along down to the last: and when the smoke cleared and the last repeated echo died away there was nothing but tossing water to be seen. The little girls had strength enough to utter a last gasping ‘Oh,’ and then they were led away, exhausted: but not before a furious Killick had appeared on the quarter deck waving a full-dress coat. “ Which I had it all laid out a quarter of an hour long past. Ain't you got . . .” He was going to say ‘ no shame?’ but disapproving looks, coupled with J ack’ s compliance and a call for the barge checked his zeal.
    With a following breeze and a very well-inclined crew the barge fairly skimmed across the sea, hooking on only a matter of seconds late. In any case Lord Leyton was in a good mood – he could be jovial and he could be damned crabbed: but this was a good day. He had heard much of Dr Maturin’ s acquaintance, close acquaintance, with Prince William, wh o, in view of his elder brother’ s constitution, was likely to be king in the early foreseeable future. “ Well, Aubrey” he cried giving his guest a hand as he came aboard, “ you very nearly split the heavens with that damned great rolling broadside – God’ s my life, thunder and lightn ing was nothing to compare. Don’ t I wish you may not have started more than a dozen of your timbers, ha, ha, ha! And don't I wish you may have come by your powder honestly, ha, ha, ha, ha! Allow me to present my young cousin Ran dolph Miller” — beckoning to a soldier in