Sharpe 04 - Sharpe's Trafalgar by Bernard Cornwell

Author:Bernard Cornwell
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9780007235162
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2006-12-04T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 8

The happy days followed. The far ship was indeed the Revenant. Chase had never seen the French warship at close quarters and, try as he might, he could not bring the Pucelle near enough to see her name, but some of the seamen pressed from the Calliope recognized the cut of the Frenchman’s spanker sail. Sharpe stared through his glass and could see nothing strange about that vast sail which hung at the stern of the enemy ship, but the seamen were certain it had been ill-repaired and, as a consequence, hung unevenly. Now the Frenchman raced the Pucelle homeward. The ships were almost twins and neither could gain an advantage on the other without the help of weather and the god of winds sent them an equal share.

The Revenant was to the west and the two ships sailed northwest to clear the great bulge of Africa and Chase reckoned that would grant the Pucelle an advantage once they were north of the equator for then the Frenchman must come eastward to make his landfall. At night Chase worried he would lose his prey, but morning after morning she was there, ever on the same bearing, sometimes hull down, sometimes nearer, and none of Chase’s seamanship could close the gap any more than Montmorin’s skills could open it. If Chase edged westward to try and narrow the distance between them then the French ship would inch ahead and Chase would revert to his previous course and curse the lost ground. He prayed constantly that Montmorin would turn eastward to offer battle, but Montmorin resisted the temptation. He would take his ship to France, or at least to a harbor belonging to France’s ally, Spain, and the men he carried would spur the French into another attempt to make India a British graveyard.

“He’ll still have to get through our blockade,” Chase said after supper one evening, then shrugged and tempered his optimism. “Though that shouldn’t be difficult.”

“Why not?” Sharpe asked.

“It ain’t a close blockade off Cadiz,” Chase explained. “The big ships stay well out to sea, beyond the horizon. There’ll only be a couple of frigates inshore and Montmorin will brush those aside. No, we have to catch him.” The captain frowned. “You can’t move a pawn sideways, Sharpe!”

“You can’t?” They spoke during the first watch which, perversely, ran from eight in the evening until midnight, a time when Chase craved company, and Sharpe had become accustomed to sharing brandy with the captain who was teaching him to play chess. Lord William and Lady Grace were frequent guests, and Lady Grace enjoyed playing the game and was evidently good at it, for she always made Chase frown and fidget as he stared at the board. Lord William preferred to read after supper, though he did once deign to play against Chase and checkmated him inside fifteen minutes. Holderby, the fifth lieutenant, was a keen player, and when he was invited for supper he liked helping Sharpe play against Chase. Sharpe and Lady Grace scrupulously ignored each other during those evenings.

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