Colours Aloft! by Alexander Kent

Author:Alexander Kent [Kent, Alexander]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: C429, Kat, Extratorrents
ISBN: 9780099497684
Publisher: Random House UK
Published: 2006-12-04T13:30:00+00:00

Addenbrook said, “Lower gun deck, sir. The French laid off and concentrated their fire on us. Heavy artillery, everything.” He was reliving it, the roaring, sealed world of the lower gun deck.

“We heard the masts shot away, but we kept firing, just like we’d been trained, what he expected of us.”

“Yes. Captain Inch is a fine man.”

The lieutenant barely heard him. “They kept coming for us, sir, until half our crews were laid low. They still closed the range and started to use grape.” He pressed one hand to his forehead.

“I kept thinking, in God’s name, why don’t they stop? My senior was killed, and some of my men were half mad. They were beyond reason, screaming and cheering, loading and firing, not like the men I knew at all.”

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229

Grape at close range. That explained the utter devastation.

There could have been hardly a gun to return the fire by that time.

The lieutenant looked down at his stained uniform, scarcely able to believe it had happened, that he had survived without a scratch.

“We were alone, ’til Barracouta joined in, sir.” He looked up, his face suddenly bitter. “We had no chance.” For just a moment some pride cut through the hurt in his eyes. “But we didn’t strike to the buggers, sir!”

There was a splash alongside and Bolitho saw Carcaud walk away from the gangway, wiping his hands on his apron. He did not have to guess what he had pitched into the sea. Was that all it took? He beckoned to the gangling surgeon’s mate.

“How is he?”

Carcaud pursed his lips. “I don’t think he knew what had been done, sir, but later on—”

Bolitho nodded and walked slowly towards the entry port, or what was left of it.

Helicon’s first lieutenant appeared on deck, his head in a bandage. He saw Bolitho and hurried towards him.

Bolitho said, “You have done well, Mr Savill. If you need any more men, signal the flag to that effect.” He saw the man sway.

“Are you fit to be here?”

The lieutenant tried to grin. “I’ll manage, sir.” He had a round Dorset accent—no wonder Inch liked him. “I shall lighten the ship as soon as I can rig some tackles.” His eyes sharpened. “Not the guns though. We’ll fight this old lady again once we can get her into dock.”

Bolitho smiled sadly. A sailor’s faith in his ship. And he was probably right.

“You saw the French flagship, the Léopard, I understand?”

“Aye, sir.” His eyes were far away. “I took a bang on the skull an’ was pressed against a nine-pounder. I reckon that saved me 230

COLOURS A LOF T!

in the next broadside.” He glanced aft. “They were all cut down, smashed like a bowl of eggs. But, oh yes, sir, I saw her right enough.” He gave a rueful smile. “Pity I’ve not got that Frenchie’s extra boom. I could use it to hoist up some of the shot an’ stores!”

A man called out and he touched his forehead. “If you’ll pardon me, sir.” He hesitated and turned.

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