Capture the Flagship! by Anthony Barton

Author:Anthony Barton [Barton, Anthony]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bulmer Press
Published: 2019-05-12T04:00:00+00:00

HIS words did not prevail. The uproar only grew.

‘Corr…ie! Corr...ie!’ the crew began to chant.

Corrie held up her hand.

The shouting ceased at once.

There was complete silence.

The crew waited agog.

‘I expect you one and all,’ said Corrie quietly to her crew, ‘to show the same respect and obedience to our new captain as you have shown to me. Don’t forget that we have a war to fight. We have to bring down Napoleon and Josephine. So we cannot afford to waste time bickering among ourselves about who is captain and who is not. Captain Vibert, my congratulations on your new appointment. The ship is yours. In obedience to your order I shall now go and change into something far more comfortable.’

‘Tell it not in Gath, publish it not in the streets of Askelon,’ intoned Mr. Hartnell.

‘Every day bucket go to well, one day dat bucket bottom drop out,’ said Billy Brown.

That got a big laugh.

Three cheers for Billy!

‘Enough!’ shouted Captain Vibert, his chest heaving. He wanted to make an example of someone. Anybody would do. ‘You there. What’s your name?’

‘H-Harbottle, sir. C-Captain’s steward.’

‘Wipe that look off your face, Harbottle, or I’ll wipe it off for you.’

‘Sir?’

‘Don’t you ‘Sir” me. Twelve lashes for impertinence. Remove this man’s shirt. Tie him to the grating.’

‘Mr. Vibert!’ protested Tom Potts. ‘Harbottle intended no disrespect.’

‘Don’t you but me, Lieutenant Potts. We all know what you and your pitiful excuse for a captain have been getting up to in your off watches. Master-at-Arms! The grating. I said! Where’s your cat?’

‘Here, sir,’ said Jensen.

‘Lay into this scoundrel. Flay him alive. My God, I’ll teach this crew discipline if I have to bare the backbone of every man, woman and child. Hit him. Again. Harder than that. Let’s hear him scream. There’s been too much play-acting on this voyage. A woman pretending to be a captain! I ask you. Well, now you have a real captain. You had better smarten up, the lot of you, or there will be hell to pay, as you say in the English.’

Tom lowered his voice and tried a new tack. ‘Captain Vibert, sir. Harbottle will learn nothing from a flogging. You are wasting your time punishing this man.’

‘You question my orders? Your uniform is a disgrace, Mr. Potts. Your wanton debaucheries have gone to your head. Up to the crosstrees with you, and there you will stay there until I see fit to allow you to return to the deck.’

‘Sir?’ Tom Potts stared at the captain. Banishments to the masthead were reserved for the most junior of officers: errant midshipmen caught skylarking, that sort of thing.

‘Mr. Potts, did I or did I not just give you an order?’

‘You did, sir.’

‘Then why are you not climbing the ratlines? I want you out of my sight.’

‘Aye aye, captain,’ said Tom, and began to climb the rigging.

‘We don’t need any natural philosophers on this ship,’ Vibert shouted after him. ‘We need naval officers. Another twelve for this poltroon who calls himself a captain’s steward.’

‘Aye aye, captain,’ said the Master-at-Arms, and glanced at Corrie helplessly.

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