He waited for Gilbert's translation and noted to himself that the French seem to make things sound so difficult.
'Well, you see this 'ole 'ere leading down into the barrel - same as in a pistol, the touch'ole. Well, instead of just sprinklin' powder in the pan and lettin' it fill up the touch'ole, so that when the flint sparks off the powder and sends a flash of flame down the touch'ole to set off the charge ... No, well, in a ship the roll or the wind could ... well, we put a special tube in the touch'ole and sprinkle powder in the pan and cover the end...'
Gilbert translated a shortened version.
'Now, just remember that. But the flash down the touch'ole won't go through the flannel of the cartridge. Ho no, nothing like. That's why we use the pricker. Before we put in the tube, we jab the pricker down the touch'ole and wriggle it about so we're certain sure it's made an 'ole in the cartridge right under the touch'ole, and that means if you looked down the touch'ole you'd see the powder of the cartridge - if the light was right, o'course.'
Gilbert translated but the other three men, who had already worked it all out, having seen the little tubes in their special box, were beginning to suck their teeth.
'Now, in goes the tube and we pour some powder into the pan and cover the end of the tube, just to make sure the spark of the flint really makes it take fire ... The tube explodes (well, not really, it makes a flash, which goes down the touch'ole of course) and that explodes the powder in the flannel cartridge -'
'And forces the shot up the barrel and out of the muzzle,' Gilbert said quickly.
'That's right! Good, I'm explaining it clearly enough, then,' Stafford said smugly. 'Next, now we know 'ow to fire the gun-'
'We must learn how to load it,' Rossi said triumphantly. 'You forgot that!'
'I was goin' to explain the dispart sight,' Stafford said sulkily.
'Only the gun captain uses that,' Rossi said. 'Leave it to Jackson to explain.'
'Oh well,' Stafford said in the most offhand manner he could contrive, but which did not reveal his relief as he realized that in fact he did not really understand how a dispart sight worked, 'we'll do loading now.'
Gilbert coughed. 'We watched when you had gunnery practice the day before yesterday,' he said. 'It is the same as for a pistol except you "swab out" the barrel. "Swab out" - that is correct, no? And you "worm" it every few rounds with that long handle affair which has a metal snake on the end. To pull out any burning bits of flannel cartridge which might be left inside -'
'Yes, very well, I'm glad you've understood that,' Stafford said, tapping the breech of the gun with the pricker and preening himself in the certainty that the Frenchmen's understanding was due to his explanation. 'The rest is obvious: you saw how we use these handspikes' - he pointed to the two long metal-shod bars, like great axe handles - 'to lift and traverse the gun. "Traversing" is when you aim it from side to side, and you say "left" or "right", not "forward" or "aft". Now, to elevate the gun, you -'
'Lift up the breech using a handspike as a lever,' Gilbert said.
'That's right,' Stafford said encouragingly. It was not as hard to explain difficult things as he had expected, even when your pupils are Frenchmen who do not speak a word of English.
'Then,' Gilbert continued, reminding Stafford of his role as translator, 'you pull out or push in - depending on whether you are raising or lowering the elevation - this wooden wedge under the breech. What you call the "quoin", no?'
'Well, we pronounce it "coin", but you are understanding.'
Rossi chuckled and said: Tell the Frogs about "point-blank".'
Gilbert grinned at the Italian. 'We have a rosbif explaining to a frog with a Genovese watching. What is a Genovese called?'
'I don't know,' Rossi said expansively. 'Tuscans call us the Scottish of the Mediterranean, but who are Tuscans to cast stones?'
'Why Scottish?' Stafford asked. 'You don't wear kilts or play a haggis or anything.'
'You eat haggis,' Rossi said. 'It is some kind of pudding. They make it from pigs, I think. No, Scottish because the Genovesi are said to be - well, "careful" I think is the word. We don't rattle our money in our purses.'
'Ah, "mean" is the word, not "careful",' Stafford declared.
Rossi shrugged. 'I am not interested in the word. Is not true, not for the Genovesi or the Scozzesi.'
'Point-blank,' Stafford said, 'is the place where a roundshot would hit the sea if the gun barrel was absolutely 'orizontal when the shot fired. About two hundred yards, usually. The shot doesn't go straight when it leaves the gun but curves up and then comes down: like throwing a ball. There!' he said to Rossi. 'Yer thought I didn't know!'
Shouts from aloft cut short Rossi's mocking laugh and Gilbert began translating for the other three.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
'She's hove-to on the starboard tack, sir,' Jackson shouted down from the mainmasthead. 'Waiting for us to come down to her.'
'What is she?'
'Frigate, looks as though she could be French-built, sir, but she's too far off to distinguish her colours.'
Ramage turned aft and began to walk, hands clasped behind his back, oblivious of the glances of the guns' crews on each side of the quarterdeck.
A French frigate: 32 guns or so, a hundred and fifty men or less in peacetime, and her captain with no idea the war had started again. Unless she had sighted L'Espoir. In which case she would know not only about the war but where L'Espoir was perhaps only a few hours ago. In the meantime, the fact that she had hove-to, waiting for the Calypso to run down towards her (like an affectionate dog rolling over on its back in anticipation of a tickled belly) meant that she had recognized the Calypso as French-designed and built: her distinctive and graceful sheer would be seen particularly clearly as she approached, taking in her stunsails.
Ramage walked between two guns and then looked out through a port. The Trades were kicking up their usual swell waves with wind waves sliding across the top of them. Not the sort of seas for ships to manoeuvre at close quarters; seas in which a cutter with strong men at the oars would have to take care. An accidental broach in those curling and breaking crests - which seemed sparkling white horses from the deck of a frigate but were a mass of airy froth which would not support a man's body or a boat any more than thick snow carried carriage wheels or horses' hooves - was something that kept a coxswain alert.
He turned forward again at the taffrail, cursing softly to himself. Devil take it; he wanted to concentrate all his thoughts and all his efforts on catching L'Espoir and rescuing her prisoners, without being bothered by another frigate, least of all French. An enemy which had to be attacked.
Yet... yet... He reached the quarterdeck rail and turned aft again, unseeing, walking instinctively, almost afraid to move or yet stand still because out there just beyond his full comprehension, like the dark hurrying shadows on a calm sea made by tiny whiffles of a breeze that came and went without direction or purpose, refusing to strengthen or go away, intent only on teasing, like a beautiful and wilful woman at a masked ball, there was a hint of an idea.
Well, at least he could see the wind shadows of an idea, and they hinted where this frigate could fit in. Taffrail, turn forward ... So let us consider the arguments against this vague, floating idea, or anyway what little he could grasp of it. Damage to the Calypso'sspars ... But they were still far enough north to make Barbados under a jury rig ... Seamen needed as prize crew and Marines as guards ... Now those dark whiffling shadows were becoming a little sharper, the edges more distinctly outlined... Quarterdeck rail and turn ...
No more hails from Jackson but, he suddenly realized, both Southwick and Aitken had been standing where he turned, waiting to say something but unwilling to interrupt his thoughts. He swung back to them.