plan.
âPut helm aâweather.â he shouted to the Sailing Master. âAnd hold, Tandimmer.â
George Tandimmer guessed how Adam Horne had decided to deal with the enemy. He smiled at him for taking daredevil chances.
To Pilkington, Horne ordered, âStarboard prepare to fire.â
âAye, aye, sir.â Pilkington was galvanized by Horneâs orders for action.
Horne listened to the effect of Tandimmerâs work â the groan of the wheel, the extra boost given by the wind to the shipâs turn. If the enemy continued to behave as he expected, each round of canister shot could pepper the pattimar with two hundred musket balls.
The enemy continued to advance exactly as Horne had predicted: the pattimer had seen the Eclipseâ s change of tack and was immediately following suit, plunging against the wind. As he had also suspected, the driving winds placed the native craft in a helpless position in front of the Eclipse, its oars raised, reminding Horne of the wings of a pigeon in flight, exposing a tender breast to be shot by the hunter â the frigateâs starboard guns.
âFire!â
The frigate rumbled.
A broadside strike on the pattimar brought a cheer from the crew. But Horne ignored the success, concentrating on how to keep a full move ahead of the enemy.
Cupping his hands to his mouth, he shouted, âStand by to go about!â
The wind was fierce, tossing waves across deck, but the Eclipse had the benefit of the gauge and of a crew used to an unpredictable captain. The hands grabbed eagerly at the sheets, tugging haul lines before the pattimar had the opportunity to recover from the first blast, giving thefrigate the advantage of the next attack.
âFire!â
The second bombardment struck the pattimarâs stern.
The crew aboard the Eclipse was wild now with excitement, but Horne remained silent on the quarterdeck, his weathered face immobile, the creases deep around his eyes, his jaw working as he wondered whether the pattimar captain had realized that the Eclipse would soon lose the benefit of the gale.
Deciding to strike whilst he still had the position, he again cupped both hands to his mouth. âFire!â
The gun crew, crouching with red bandanas knotted around their heads to save their eardrums from the cannon roar, saw the gunner captain, Dick Merlin, chop down his arm for them to proceed as he also shouted, âFire, you bloody buggers! Fire!â
The burst from the Eclipseâ s cannons was matched by a burst of flame from the pattimarâs guns. Both vessels shuddered from the strikes.
Horne felt the deck tremble beneath his feet. He heard cries from amidship. The enemy had hit men, but he had no time to think about injuries or deaths.
Deciding to change tack and fire on the enemy leeward, he halted the command when he saw the pattimar beginning to swing about, its snub nose turning towards the headland.
Horne raised his spyglass. Was the pattimar retreating?
The frigateâs gun crew, interpreting the enemyâs flight as their victory, pulled off their bandanas and cheered.
Lieutenant Pilkington, also interpreting the fleeing ship as a victory, rejoiced, âWe bettered them, Sir! We bettered them!â
Horne remained silent, gripping one fist in front of his chest as he watched the pattimar retreating for the coastline, the choppy waves licking at her stern.
Pilkington noticed Horneâs reservation. His own excitement faded. âDidnât we better them, sir?â
Horne did not reply; he suspected that the enemy had a plan of his own.
A call from the masthead confirmed Horneâs suspicions.
âSails, ho! One to starboard! Second to larboard! Sails ho!â
Horne snapped open the spyglass. He instantly spotted the first white speck moving from the headland. He turned to his right and saw the tilting sail of another ship.
Two more ships were joining the pattimar. The enemy had manoeuvred the
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