"The first shot, sir," Orsini said, taking great care that the "sir" was clear and pitched at just the right level.
"What about it - are you afraid it'll push the mortar through the bottom of the ship?"
"No, sir. I was thinking about the second one, actually. Aiming it, I mean."
"There's nothing difficult about that. We see where the first one lands, and that'll show us what correction we have to make for the second. It'll fall short, over, left or right... as simple as that. We then increase or decrease the charge, and train left or right."
"Yes, sir, but I was thinking that Mr Wagstaffe might . . ." He broke off, hoping Kenton would guess.
"Might what?" Kenton demanded. "He's a very experienced officer."
"But I don't think he has ever fired a mortar, sir. Which means - with respect - that he's likely to make mistakes in aiming. We might make the same mistakes, too."
"What sort of mistakes?" Kenton asked sharply.
"Well, it might be a common error with the first shot for the shell to fall short ... Or pitch well over."
"It might," Kenton agreed. "But I don't see what we can do about it."
"We could let Mr Wagstaffe fire first and see where his shell lands . . ." Orsini murmured casually. "And make appropriate corrections before we fire."
Kenton stopped suddenly and stared at Orsini. "Supposing we haven't made the same mistakes in aiming that Wagstaffe makes? What then?"
"Well, then, we'll be introducing errors," Orsini said cheerfully. "it's a gamble. Not much of one, though," he added hurriedly. "We're just gambling that we'd be likely to make the same sort of mistakes as Mr Wagstaffe and Mr Martin. None of us are used to elevating a mortar and using a plunge nob -"
"A plumb bob," Kenton corrected. "Sometimes called a plummet."
". . . yes, a plunge nob, so we have nothing to lose in seeing how Mr Wagstaffe's first shot falls? Sir," he added uncertainly, because Kenton had taken off his hat and seemed curious about something that might be inside it.
Finally Kenton jammed the hat back on his head, pointed at the flags being hoisted in the Calypso, and said: "All right, m'lad, we'll gamble. We'll look daft if Wagstaffe's had the same idea and waits for us to fire!"
"He won't," Orsini said earnestly, only just stopping himself from adding that it took an Italian to think of such good plans. "The men are waiting," he added, gesturing to the mortar.
As soon as he reached the gun, Kenton showed he had not wasted the half an hour spent reading the gunner's notebook. "Right, line up, you men. Jackson, you are number one. You should have the plumb bob. Who has it? Right, give it to Jackson. Now, Jackson, you command, point and serve the vent - under my direction, of course. Stafford, you'll be number two, so you're responsible for the cartridge cases and measures. And don't forget - you might be measuring in single ounces so don't be heavy handed. You -" he pointed at the two boys, "- bring up the powder from the magazine."
"Rossi, you'll be number three. You collect the fuses, load, help lift in the shell, run out the mortar and train." He looked at the remaining three men. "Gutteridge, you're number four. You provide a funnel for the powder, sponge, wipe the bottom of the shell to make sure there's no loose powder on it, take the fuse from the box and put it in the shell - don't forget one and a half inches must protrude. Then you help number three run out. Number five - that'll be you, Barnes. You bring up the shell with number six, and the two of you lift it up while number three guides it into the bore of the gun. Lower it gently. Then you help run out, and then help number three to train. Then you take a linstock and - when you get the order - light the fuse. Number six - that's you, King. You help bring up the shell, run out and train. Then you prime the vent. If necessary you'll have helped number three guide the shell into the bore."
He made each man repeat his tasks and then said briskly, "There are only nine commands you are likely to hear from me and they're fairly obvious: Run the mortar up - Cross lift to the right (or to the left) - Muzzle to the right (or the left) - Down (the bed bolster will be in place by then) - Load - Prime - Fire!"
He made the men repeat the sequence and then said suspiciously: "You all seem to know your jobs and the sequence of commands very well - why is that?"
Jackson looked at Orsini, who winked, so the American said: "Mr Orsini borrowed a notebook about this gun, sir, so we all sat around this morning and went over it. We were all curious, sir."
"You didn't know the Captain was going to offer a guinea prize for target practice?"
Jackson shook his head. "No, sir," he said ruefully, "otherwise we might have paid more attention."
Kenton grinned sympathetically. "Very well, let's get started. The magazine is open, fearnought blankets unrolled? Right, I see the water tub is there and the match tub. Slow matches alight and -" he looked carefully "- burning steadily. Very well, wet the decks, and then we can load."
The deckwash pump started wheezing and spitting fitfully as King began working the handle, and as soon as water came out of the nozzle two other seamen filled buckets and sluiced the deck. The sun had heated the planking and it took several buckets before the wood stayed wetted.
Finally Kenton gave the signal and four of the men and the two powder boys ran below.
Listening for the sound of the Brutus's mortar firing, Kenton took out his watch and began timing. Finally Stafford arrived with his two wooden cartridge cases, cylindrical wooden boxes with lids that slid up and down on loops of line which also acted as carrying handles. He slid up one lid and began undoing the worsted bag, ready to measure out powder, while one powder boy held the second box, and the other waited to run for a third.
Barnes and King were now walking quickly towards the mortar with a wooden beam across their shoulders. Two thin ropes with hooks hung from the beam, the hooks going through the two carrying handles on the top of the black ball that was the shell. Until Kenton shouted at them to break step, they walked in time, cursing as the shell swung back and forth like a pendulum, catching them across the shins.
Jackson was walking round the mortar looking at the items the men had placed ready, and he named them out loud, as if checking a mental list. "Plumb bob . . . two cartridge cases and measures ... sponge . . . funnel for the powder... two linstocks . . . four handspikes ... one priming wire ... There's Rossi with the fuses, and I've got a knife and the tube box . . . Here comes the carrying beam and the shell. That's the lot. . ."
Kenton looked at his watch. Two minutes so far - appalling time, but this was the first occasion. Then he noticed that Jackson had been naming the pieces of equipment out loud so that Orsini could check them against a list he was holding in his hand.
After that the six men went to work as though they had spent the last few weeks doing nothing but fire mortars: Gutteridge held the funnel in the fuse hole of the shell while Stafford measured out four pounds. Rossi handed the cone-shaped wooden fuse to Kenton, who said: "We'll wait a few moments before cutting it. For a nineteen-seconds flight it would be four inches and eighteen hundredths."
He turned to Orsini. "Stand by here. I'm going to the bow to watch where the Brutus's-"
At that moment there was an explosion beyond the Calypso and Kenton ran to the bow, looking up at a small black ball still climbing into the sky at a steep angle. Then, as though rolling over the summit of a hill, it began dropping and Kenton lost sight of it but looked down at the cask. There was a flurry of sand well beyond it.