The officers were clustered around him. He began, "She'll hail us in five minutes or so." He was eying the water between the two ships. "When she hails, we will not waste words. We have only seconds to perform this very simple maneuver. We need one crippling hit to slow up her speed. We'll try to make it."
Joshua wiped his palms on his trousers. He tried to judge if the corvette was in range. In seconds she would be. The ship's bells struck in the silence; five times they struck. At that moment a long hail came across the water.
"What ship are you?"
The echoes had not died away before Barney had spoken. "Run up the colors, Mr. Paul. Helmsman, hard aport."
The "Pomona" yawed ship. She came about like a live thing.
"Fire!" cried Barney, eyes glued to the corvette.
The "Pomona's" ten starboard guns roared. The sound had not died away when Barney said in the same tone:
"Hands to braces! Helmsman, keep her hard aport!"
She wheeled like a gull, leaning in the water, spray flying from her graceful bows, showing her heels now to the enemy. And she had made her hit. The corvette's foretop sail had come tumbling down on her decks. Her guns had answered belatedly, and the "Pomona" was unscathed. The crew of the "Pomona" let out a yell of triumph now. It had happened so fast they hardly realized that they had been successful. They were still yelling and jeering as they drew away, faster now. Barney was saying to Pauclass="underline"
"We'll wet down the sails a bit, Mr. Paul, and show her our heels as long as we can. You may send the hands to supper. We got a little taste of blood." He turned to Joshua. "Time to eat, Harris."
Joshua said absently, "I suppose so." Up overhead the flag flew.
"But she'll not give up the chase," Barney was saying in between
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bites. The distant roar of a cannon bore him out. Joshua and the four officers ate quickly. But Barney seemed to be in no hurry. He drank his coffee at leisure; he seemed to be deep in thought, paying no attention to what the others were saying. Finally he put down his napkin and rose and went out on deck.
He walked down the row of brass six-pounders. Then he disappeared fore. After about an hour, Joshua saw him emerge amidships and pick his way across the dark deck. Joshua waited for him to speak.
There was no sound but the sound of water and wind; the singing in the rigging. The moon was full. In its light there was no possibility of escape from the corvette, whose white sails could be seen in its radiance, even though they were dropping farther and farther behind.
"I reckon it will be about midnight before she repairs that damage," Barney said, thinking aloud. Joshua and Mr. Paul listened.
There was a belch of fire from the corvette's fore guns. A shot splashed into the water.
"She's showing her teeth," Barney commented.
"Are we going to answer?" Joshua asked.
Barney shook his head. He motioned with his thumb. "You forgot, Harris, to provide the 'Pomona' with stem ports."
Joshua found himself clenching his hands. Then he rubbed the sudden sweat off his forehead. He swore.
"You were intent on her lines, no doubt," Barney said, but his smile was genial. He knew how fast and with what awful difficulty ships were got out of the yards nowadays.
Joshua said, "If she repairs that damage around midnight—" He left the rest of the sentence unfinished, and Barney took it up.
"Then she will hang around our stem and bang away with impunity all night."
"And she will discover we have no way of replying to their fire!"
"I fear she will," said Barney thoughtfully. Then he smiled even more broadly.
He was filling his pipe. "Now Mr. Paul, will you rout out Chips."
"Aye, aye, sir." Paul started away.
Barney's voice stopped him. "I'm not finished. I want a couple of axes. There's an old three-pounder stored below. I want that, too. We're going to chop a hole in her counter."
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Paul and Joshua were silent for a moment. Then Paul cried, "Good, sir, good!" and dashed away.
Joshua's blue eyes sparkled. Then he remembered to reserve judgment. "Perhaps you can turn disadvantage into advantage?"
"Perhaps," agreed Barney dryly.
The boatswain appeared with two lanterns, then the ship's carpenter, wide awake. Joshua wondered how many of the men off duty were asleep. The English guns took that moment to speak again, They were accompanied by the usual nearby splash. But no one paid any attention. Barney was puffing on his pipe and the sound of axes began to ring forth over the deck.
At three the three-pounder was lugged into place. The splintered wood and leavings had been swept. Barney was bending over the gun, applying more oil to her rusty carriage, using a rag to wipe her off as tenderly as though she were a rare jewel he had found. The lanterns swung a little; the moon was dying down into the sea. Paul suddenly spoke over Barney's head.
"Captain!" he cried, almost despairingly.
Barney didn't move. He was looking down the sights of the old gun. "Yes, Mr. Paul."
"Sir!" Paul paused, and threw a look at Joshua. No one else was within hearing, save perhaps the helmsman. "We have no ammunition for a three-pounder!"
Barney was now squatting back on his heels. "No, we do not." He stood up, and wiped the oil off his hands on the rag. In the light of the lantern, with the smell of the oil around him like a halo and a smear of it across his face, he smiled like a delighted satan, Joshua thought. And he said:
"Now, Mr. Paul, I want fetched here a pair of crowbars, and a few stove lids, and grape shot. I'm going below and shave."
Joshua went below and shaved and dressed in old clothes. The minutes were passing fast now. The ship was alive after four hours respite. Joshua smelled coffee. He had cut his face twice shaving and was holding a handkerchief to his chin as he came into the after cabin. He drank a cup of scalding hot coffee and picked up a piece of bread.
"How much more time?" he asked Barney.
"Not long till dawn," Barney said. "Thirty minutes or so."
"You think you know what they'll do?"
Barney nodded. "You can count on the English. They fight. No
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distant bombardment. They'll be eager to get their teeth into us. Come along."
Joshua followed him out on deck. Joshua spoke to him as they emerged. "I, too, want to fight."
"What are you good at?" Barney asked.
"A rifle," Joshua said modestly.
"Tell the master-at-arms to issue you a rifle." Barney was looking at the three-pounder. She glistened nicely now. And alongside of her was piled the oddest and most ludicrous ammunition Joshua had ever seen. He wanted to give a shout of laughter, and Barney caught his eyes and they both grinned. "Nevertheless, those crowbars are mighty deadly," Joshua announced soberly. He looked at them harder. "Christ Almighty," he muttered, as he began to realize the amount of damage they could wreak, not only on human heads but on sails and rigging. The officers had been summoned; the riflemen were already stationed in the foretops. Joshua, standing a bit aside, listened.
The day was lightening. There was the faintest grey in the sky, and the lanterns had been extinguished. Barney's low voice penetrated the quarterdeck.
"I'll fire this gun myself," he said. "I expect, briefly, to do two things with this unexpected weapon. First, to create complete confusion among the boarders she will undoubtedly have massed fore. You can see she is going to hit us at what she thinks is a vulnerable spot, namely astern. Second, I hope to cut away the fore shrouds and rigging. This will compel her to wear, to save her foremast from going by the board. When she wears, she will thus be in position for a raking broadside." Suddenly he seemed to realize that the riflemen were already in the tops. He said, "Who the hell ordered those men aloft?"