'Number eight sir - To turn to larboard".' Ramage caught Southwick's eye and smiled: he knew exactly what was passing through the master's mind: young Paolo seems to have memorized the whole French signal book, but he can never remember for more than a day the simplest mathematical formula.
An intermittent mouse - like squeaking high overhead showed a halyard was spinning the sheave of a block, and Ramage deliberately continued looking astern, defying himself to glance up at the flag. The squeaking stopped; the flag must be hoisted now. And La Perle was perhaps three lengths astern, a little over a hundred yards. If it worked it was going to be a close - run affair.
He said to Southwick: 'Give her a sheer to larboard of one point.'
The master turned and shouted to the quartermaster.
To Aitken, waiting by the binnacle, Ramage called: Warn the men below to stand by!'
He could see a Frenchman perched out on the end of La Perle's jibboom gesticulating aft and pointing at the Calypso, as though drawing his quarterdeck's attention to the signal.
Now La Perle Appealed to be sliding to Ramage's left as. below him, he could hear the rudder grinding a little as pintles rubbed against gudgeons. The Calypso's 'bit of a sheer' to larboard was beginning, swinging the ship's bow to larboard a few degrees and moving her bodily towards the reef, narrowing the gap, like a drunken man walking along a road and curving - slightly towards a wall.
Ramage turned forward towards Aitken. 'Are those men with axes standing by on the foredeck?'
'Yes, sir.'
It would take them at least two minutes to chop through the towing cable. Looking over the Calypso's bow he could see the sheer had taken her well out on La Creole's larboard quarter. Let's hope Lacey has the wit to bear away, otherwise the Calypso's weight will haul his stern round (like someone hanging on to a dog's tail) and get the schooner in stays.
By the time Ramage looked aft again La Perle's topsails were fluttering slightly - the Calypso's sudden movement had, not surprisingly, caught the French first lieutenant unawares, and now he was trying to luff up to obey the order to turn to larboard.
Lieutenant Bazin had been watching the transom of the Calypso grow larger as they approached. Her sternlights seemed occasionally to wink as the rippling surface of the sea reflected the sun from the glass. With the telescope he could see that the old nameboard had been replaced with a new one: the paint and gilt making up the name Calypso was much fresher than the rest of the design on the scroll.
There were very few people on board the Calypso - two or three officers on the quarterdeck (Duroc presumably among them), and a dozen or so men along the gangways. Ah, and a few seamen waiting on the fo'c'sle. So he could reckon on some help from the Calypso with that damned cable.
By approaching in the Calypso's wake, Bazin wanted to be absolutely sure that Captain Duroc realized what he was doing. He was sure it was what the captain would want - Duroc was always interfering, never considering anyone could do anything properly without detailed instructions and constant overseeing. So by steering straight for the Calypso's stern and then bearing away to starboard at the last moment, ranging to windward close along her starboard side, he could listen to Duroc's shouts. Probably Duroc's drunken ravings in fact, because he couldn't imagine Duroc still sober and letting pass such an opportunity to show a senior officer how clever he was and how stupid everyone else. He had to admit be hated Duroc.
The Calypso is a handsome ship: one can tell by that graceful sheer that she is designed by a Frenchman because the British can never achieve that elegance. But what is wrong with her that she has to be towed? It can only be damage to the rudder because her masts, yards, bowsprit and jibboom are all right. She is not leaking - there are no spurts of water streaming over the side, showing her pumps at work. And, oddly enough, no battle damage. At least, none that can be seen from astern. No shotholes in the hull, no fished yards. Not even a pane missing from the sternlights. Can that schooner towing her have actually captured her? It seems unlikely, there is some other explanation. Most likely another ship captured her and ordered the schooner to tow her to port. Yes, that is what happened!
He swore at the two men at the wheel as La Perle yawed in a momentary wind shift. They were nicely lined up now; he could even see the smooth trail, a path across the sea, which was the Calypso's wake. Another half a dozen ships' lengths or so, and he'd begin the turn to starboard which would let him pass alongside. Already the Calypso was being hidden by La Perle's bow, he'd have to perch on the breech of a gun and peer over the bulwark, or rely on seeing her masts.
Actually it isn't as difficult as one might think, commanding a frigate. Duroc makes a great performance of it, cursing everyone, clutching his brow, stamping a foot, shaking his fist, spitting to show his contempt, but it is only necessary to keep calm. Keep calm and make sure orders are obeyed promptly. One needs a dozen eyes, of course, but Duroc makes hard work of it by all the drama.
What is that fluttering in line with the Calypso's mizen? He lifted his telescope. Merde! Another signal, and at this stage! Number eight. Hurriedly he mentally skimmed the first page of the signal book.
'Deck there!'
Now a blasted lookout aloft is hailing.
'Deck here!"
'Foremast here - she's hoisted a signal I'
'I know. Keep a sharp lookout.' He looked round and spotted the second lieutenant. "Where's the signal book, cretin?' When the lieutenant handed it to him he snatched it and began nicking through the pages.
'It's number eight,' the second lieutenant said.
'I know that!' Bazin snarled.
'It means to turn to larboard."
'Why the devil didn't you say so, then, instead of giving me the book?'
'You asked me for it. The book.'
Now there was shouting from the bow.
'What goes on there?' Bazin shouted back.
The frigate's hoisted a signal!'
'I know. Just keep a sharp lookout.'
"Well ram her in a minute,' the second lieutenant said lugubriously. 'Captain Duroc will have you court - martialled.'
'And I'll tell him how you fooled around with the signal book,' Bazin said hotly, and then looked ahead again.
The Calypso was no longer ahead: suddenly she was way over to larboard.
'Cretins!' Bazin screamed at the men at the wheel. What are you doing? Who told you to turn to starboard?'
'We didn't. The Calypso suddenly turned to larboard.'
And Bazin saw she had: the schooner was still some way to starboard, but the Calypso was so far over to larboard it was now doubtful if he could get La Perle to point high enough to pass her to larboard.
Snatching up the speaking trumpet that he had been expecting to use as an ear trumpet, he began bellowing orders to get the yards braced sharp - up, and a moment later gave more orders to the men at the wheel.
The Calypso seemed glued on La Perle's larboard bow, then slowly, almost reluctantly, she began to move slightly to starboard. Or, Bazin corrected himself, she appears to, although of course it is La Perle turning to larboard at last. But now the wind is increasing - that helps her up to windward but it is also increasing her speed, and she is approaching the Calypso's larboard quarter crabwise.
Then Bazin glanced up and saw the luffs of the sails flutter ing, beginning to be starved of wind.
'Bear away, you fools!' he bawled at the men at the wheel, but even before they could haul down on the spokes he realized that bearing away, turning to starboard, would inevitably bring La Perle's starboard bow crashing into the Calypso's larboard quarter.