Astern of the Biter, as was her way, she towed the cutter and two yawls, along with the captain's skiff, and he told Will off to see two of them hauled up close for manning. Will, with a strange sensation, ordered both John Behar and Tilley to head his crew, while Silas Ayling, who had been made up to boatswain's mate after Shockhead Eaton's death, took Jem Taylor's as his own. Naturally, with an action close to hand, Lieutenant Kaye stayed in command of Biter, with hands enough to man the guns and the boatswain to control them. Then Kershaw, who was standing awkwardly near Gunning at the binnacle, asked Bentley if he would take him with him, in his boat.
This struck Will odd, but Kaye, who'd heard it, waved an airy hand.
"No use to me, sir!" he told the midshipman. "Take him and welcome! Drop him overboard!"
"Thank you, sir," said Kershaw formally. Jesu, thought Will, Mr. Kershaw, you were wrong. Kaye relishes this action, he is positively transformed.
"Mr. Bentley," said Kaye, 'the plan is this. When I send you and, Whatsisname, the boatswain's mate, you are not to board, d'you hear? You're to cut the chickens from off the mother hen, which, by loss of paying customers, will give them pause for thought. They'll have small arms, no doubt, but their boats will be jam-packed and yours will not. Run rings round them, pick them off like birds I do not care, they're only bloody Frogs. Meantime, I'll put some shots in the mother and try to slam her down. Then, if I lay alongside of her, you board too. Do you understand that?"
Slack Dickie insults a man without awareness that he's doing it, thought Will. God save me from the very rich and stupid. He nodded rather curtly, and acknowledged with a crisp "Aye aye, sir!" It was by no means a bad plan, when all was said and done.
By the time they'd drifted close enough, they could see their timing was exactly right. Two boats were pulling from the shore into the wind which, flu king near the foreland, was dead ahead and gusting stronger, but the last boat to have unloaded was being hauled on board. On the lugger's foredeck men were gathered at the anchor windlass, and the fore was being cleared for hoisting. Had the wind been lighter both sails would probably have been left up and brailed, but even with her muffled main still up the mast, the smuggler was starting to sheer quite wildly in the swell. It was almost time to go.
Lieutenant Kaye concurred. He gave the order and the men, with whoops, piled across the bulwarks and down into the boats, still shielded from the vision of the enemy. They were bristling with arms and could not be quiet for the life of them, which hardly mattered any more. As Bentley, then Ayling, gave their orders to let go and stand by to hoist, Gunning, at a word from Kaye, roused his men to clew-garnets, braces, tacks and sheets, and to break out canvas with the utmost speed. Will's cutter dropped astern, the main went up, she blew off in a gust around the Biter, up helm and sail her off. In half a minute more they had the mizzen set, sheets trimmed, and were surfing across the waves towards their quarry. Ayling's crew were only slightly slower.
The speed and skill of Gunning's men was also most commendable, and must have shocked the lugger's people horribly. Kaye had the wind-gage, and was close enough to run down and ram if that had been his intention. Gunning spread everything, and the bulky brig, from slopping like a wicker basket full offish, dug in her nose, and then her arse, and surged. Jem Taylor and the gunner cleared ports and ran out guns, with excitement sweeping the deck like wildfire. As he raced away, Will saw a small black figure approach Kaye on the quarterdeck, with a glass and bottle, and foreboding swept him. Do not celebrate too early, Dick, no, don't do that, he thought. Then he braced himself against the tiller and told Behar to ease the mizzen sheet.
Kershaw was beside him in the cutter's well, gazing intently at the scene ahead, his one eye shielded from the spray, and he first saw the flaw in Kaye's plan. He said something to Will, was not heard above the wind, then shouted it.
"They're not his boats! He will abandon them! Look, he's going to cut her free!"
Will glanced, and saw a seaman on the lugger's foredeck raise an axe above his head. At the same time the main began to shake and thunder with the brails let fly. The foreyard was already rising up the mast.
"Blood!" he shouted. "They're shore boats! You have it right, sir! Tilley! Hugg! Get your muskets up! Get me a helmsman for a guinea!"
He had not thought of it, he did not know why, but nor had Kaye. The heavy boats to bring out the French escapers were not going back to France, but were merely ferries. Clearly the most important people were on board already and the bulk of others and the rest were seen as extra cash, expendable if need be. Both boats were wheeling for the shore, with their sailors pushing and shoving at the landsmen to get them clear from off the sails for hoisting. On the instant Hugg's musket cracked, to no effect apparently, then Tom Tilley's, and shortly afterwards three more from Ayling's boat. Like firing from careering horses at a leaping hare, not any chance at all, except by simple luck.
From windward came the crash of heavy guns, as Biter hauled her wind to bring her starboard side to bear. Will saw shots pluming in the rolling sea, but the lugger was not hit. Her fore was almost up, her anchor warp was cut, her main hard in, and already she was forging ahead with extraordinary speed. "Hah," said Kershaw beside him, and Will knew exactly what he meant. The lugger was brilliantly handy, given men who knew her, and the Frenchmen clearly did. Once she had speed up, and with a bit of fortune, she might get clear of Gunning's rolling tub completely.
"He's wearing round!" said Kershaw, in astonishment. "I wonder what his game is now!"
Will could not afford to look. He chose a target from the two ahead, then bellowed and gesticulated until Ayling understood and shaped up for the other one.
"Hold fire, men!" yelled Bentley to his crew. "We'll go in close to get a good one, then I'm heading up." To Kershaw he added, but maybe not loud enough to hear, "If Kaye can wing her, we're near enough to go on board perhaps."
"She's falling off," said Kershaw, who had heard. "He's coming round to pick them up after all, is he? "Fore God, I don't know!"
As the lugger turned upon her heel, she fired off two guns at Biter, and one shot tore a perfect circle in her fore course The Frenchman, on a dead run, screamed down towards her ferries and the Biter's boats, careless of her chance to claw off and out manoeuvre her attacker.
"He draws eight feet or less," said Kershaw, laconically. "He's luring Kaye on to the ground, the stoat. How much does Biter draw?"
Will did not know, but there was no doubt she was deeper, perhaps two feet or more. She'd squared up, and was plunging in a line straight after her prey, as if water depth was no consideration. Will felt sweat break out beneath his arms.
"Gunning knows," he said. "He knows these waters and he's very good, when sober."
Tom Tilley grinned at him, having overheard. "He's sober, sir," he said. "He hasn't touched a drop for days. Look, shall we fire? You can see the buggers' teeth."
Shots cracked out from Ayling's boat, and a man in the nearest ferry slumped. There was a flash from near him, a ragged stream of smoke, and then a pistol-snap, barely audible.
"No," said Will. "We'll save it for the mother hen. She's coming round."
The lugger was close in now, downwind of them and just -the shore bound boats. She was going like a running bull, but as she reached the ferry the helmsman gybed, then luffed her sharply to kill her way. Men were jumping up like spiders on a web, with hands on board dragging them by clothes and limbs and hair. Sails flapping, head to wind, she fore reached to the second boat, which smacked into her, its mainsail dropped, a huge confusion of men jumping to get out. Ayling's gunners let out a ragged fire at quite close range, and two or three men fell but were picked up again. The lugger began to drop astern with helm reversed, and as she paid off both yards were dipped most prettily, when she began to gather forward way with entrancing ease. Biter was bow on to her, with few guns to bear, but the Frenchman's all were clear to fire.