Free Norton, Andre - Novel 08 by Yankee Privateer (v1.0)

deck
anytime in the first three minutes. I'll have no conceit of my skill after
this."
                   "You're a slow beginner, Mr. Lyons,"
the Captain agreed. "But the man who can get through that defense of yours
after you're warm to the play must be more of a master than I claim to be. As
for that underthrust, had I not been instructed in it, you might as easily had dealt with me as you did with Dr. Watts. It's a French
trick which has done some deadly work in its time."
                   "So D'Aulony said when he taught it to
me," Fitz admitted. "He was the fencing master who had us to plague
him for his sins, my cousins and I. But for some reason I pleased him one day
and he taught me his big secret as a reward."
                   Crofts was putting on
his coat. "It's a dangerous bit of knowledge that, Mr. Lyon. It can be
used to kill as well as to disarm."
                   Fitz handed his foil to Watts . "I've never been 'out,' sir. And it's
not a thrust you would give with a boarding hanger. So there's little danger
that I'll ever see its true finish."
                   "Just as well," Crofts' low answer
barely reached his ears. "I have."
                   What else he might have added was drowned out
in a triumphant bellow from the lookout.
                   "Sail ho!"
     

5
     
First Blood for a Marine
     
                   Yankee sailors have a knack,
                 Haul away! Yeo ho, boys,
                 Of pulling down a British Jack,
                 'Gainst any odds you know, boys.
                   —THE YANKEE SAILOR
     
                   FlTZ WAS SEA-WISE ENOUGH NOW TO IDENTIFY THEIR
quarry as a brig, and she was either an excellent sailer, or was in the hands
of an expert master, for it looked for a space as if she might win free of the
privateer. But the Retaliation kept to the chase, hauling up slowly but surely
on the Jack which waved in smart defiance from the other's mast.
                   Crofts ordered their own colors broken out and
lobbed a warning shot at the brig, which continued to hold to her course. It
looked as if it would be a running fight. Fitz shifted his weight from foot to
foot, and heard an impatient rustle down the short line of marines. Until they
were in rifle-shot distance marines were, perforce, spectators only.
                   The Marylander knew little of the art of
seamanship, but he guessed that Crofts was now using every trick known to his
trade to bring up the privateer. Below, the gun captains crouched at their
stations, glancing now and then at the ready matches. And when for the second
time the bow chaser was fired, and the white splash of the shot was seen almost
within fair range, a satisfied shout arose from below.
                   "Best not cheer too soon," Fogler
said gloomily. "Luck can be pushed too far "
                   "Sail ho!"
                   That scream from the lookout brought them all
up short, even the Retaliation herself appeared to pause. It was Crofts who
questioned.
                   "Where away?"
                   "Three points off the starboard astern, sir "
                   Crofts swung into the rigging, pulling up to
the lookout's flimsy perch, his glass dangling from a cord about his neck. The
Retaliation held to her course after the fleeing Britisher.
                   When the Captain's heels hit the deck again he
had the full attention of all within eye and ear range.
                   "My compliments to Mr.
Ninnes," he said to the boy who dogged his steps during engagements,
"and say that I want a mast out of the brig. As
quickly as possible!" The boy took a running jump for the gun deck
where Ninnes was on duty.
                   As two shots thudded out, the brig changed
course. White