And prizes, he further speculated! With few warships left, the French coasting trade would lay wide open and unprotected to his guns. In another three months, Jester could reap a bountiful harvest. Then he could go home the hero, wearing the laurel wreath corona. A gilded laurel-wreath hero's crown, he crowed to himself! With enough money to buy his rented land from damnable old uncle Phineas Chiswick, buy even more acres, have that London town house, at last, into the bargain…!
And see Caroline and the children. Enchanting mistress or no, he'd been on the beach too long before, those four years between commissions, and where his heart lay, and where his lust romped, were two different places entirely. Only one letter had come from Anglesgreen, so far, in reply to the half dozen he'd sent off.
Aye, get this over with quickly, he mused, as he resat Phoebe at their
table; she's a fetchin' little mort, but she'll land on her feet, when I'm gone.
"You gentlemen will permit me?" Alan asked them. "In the spirit of the news, I think a brace of champagne might be in order."
Spumante was the best the house could boast; overly sweet, for most tastes, a bit on the cloudy side. But sparkling and spritely on the tongue, frothy with pearly bubbles as they charged their glasses.
"Sirs… mademoiselle contessa…" Lewrie posed to them. "A toast. To a complete and convincing victory over our enemies. And an even greater one, at sea, soon to follow."
"Here, here!" they all agreed.
Book IV
Haec deus in melius crudelia somnia vertat
et iubeat tepidos inrita ferra Notos.
May a god turn this cruel dream to good, or bid the
hot South Wind carry it away without fulfillment.
Book III, "Lygdamus's Dream"
Albius Tibullus
CHAPTER
1
"It's working," Lieutenant Knolles exclaimed, with the sound of true wonder in his voice. "It is actually working."
"Well, o' course, it is, sir," Mister Buchanon chided his earlier skepticism. "Th' cap'um knows a thing'r two."
Lee guns run out in-battery, though aimed at nothing; weather artillery run into loading position, and Jester forced to sail over on her shoulder, canting her deck as if she were beating close-hauled instead of sailing with the scant wind large on her larboard quarters.
It was a thing old Lieutenant Lilycrop of the Shrike brig had taught his first lieutenant during the tail end of the American War, and it might not avail aboard a larger ship of the line-to heel a shallow draughted brig-sloop or ship-sloop in very light airs, reducing drag created by her hull, by reducing the total area of her quick-work, which was immersed.
And it was working, for Jester was slowly forging ahead of the main line of battle, on the lee side where frigates and lighter ships belonged of course, to catch up with Agamemnon and Cumberland, which were almost up to gun range of the fleeing French. Four-and-a-half knots, at best; but that was at least a knot-and-a-half quicker than anyone else at the moment, as the fickle weather of the Ligurian Sea in midsummer played its usual coy games.
"Deck, there!" came flushing's call from the foremast. " Cape Sepet, two points off th' weather bows!"
"Never catch 'em up," Lewrie glumly predicted. "God, what an opportunity wasted. Again!"
"Cape Garonne, two points off th' lee bows!" Rushing further informed them. "Signals Cross is a'workin' on Sepet!"
"Four bloody days, all the way to Toulon, and… damn 'em!"
The van squadron of the French Mediterranean fleet, now a much reinforced assemblage after ships from the Biscay ports had slipped in past the weak guard at Gibraltar as soon as milder spring weather had freed them, would be almost abeam of the Croix de Signeaux atop Cape Sepet. The wind-what wind there was-was coming more southerly, directly into the Bay of Toulon, Before noon, the main body, perhaps the lead ships of the rear squadron, would be inside the two horns of the bay's wide entrance, able to shelter under the heavy artillery of Toulon 's many formidable fortresses.
"Signal from Brittania, sir!" Midshipman Hyde shouted. "And, from the repeating frigates. 'Discontinue the Action,' sir!"
Lewrie turned aft to watch every ship of the line hoist replies, to watch every frigate on the disengaged lee side hoist the blue-and-yellow checker. "Mister Hyde, hoist the repeat," Lewrie ordered with a sour grimace. "So everyone knows we're useless. Damn him!"
On Agamemnon, of course, there flew the "Query." Trust Nelson to dare to challenge Vice Admiral Hotham's decision. No "Respectfully Submit…," this time, as there had been after the last fiasco. Then, Nelson had gone aboard Brittania to plead that the two French 74's he had taken-Зa Ira and Censeur-be left astern under guard of some frigates, and the pursuit continued. Admiral Comte Martin didn't have the stomach for a real fight; he'd continue to run in rough disorder, and his trailing ships could be overhauled and battered into surrender in penny packets. But no, Hotham had demurred. And even days after, Nelson had been pinch-mouthed and pale with anger when he'd repeated Hotham's words to Lewrie. "No, we've taken two. We've really done very well, Nelson. We must be content."
Those two taken, but Illustrious had been mauled after she had come up to aid Agamemnon and the lead frigates. She'd been taken in tow by the Meleager frigate, but blown onto a rocky shoal off Avenca on the Genoese coast, and lost. HMS Berwick captured alone, too. Tit for tat.
And today… one French ship of the line shot to rags, set on fire, and her colors struck to Agamemnon and her tiny squadron. But she'd blown up before she could be taken as prize. And Admiral Hotham was most like content… again!.. with the results! One for nought. Tit for tat. What a bargain, Alan thought; why, by the turn of the century, we'll surely've whittled 'em down to a manageable number!
"He's a glass on me, sir," Hyde carped, referring to the signals midshipman aboard Agamemnon, not half a nautical mile ahead, and to their right. "Surely, he sees our repeat signal."
"I'd imagine his captain is trying to digest it first, Mister Hyde," Lewrie snarled. "Farts! A brace of farts, the pair of them! Their Martin and our Hotham. Goddamned rabbit-hearted… dismal, cowering farts stagg'rin' about in a bloody… fucking… trance!"
There, at last; Agamemnon hauled down her "Query," and hoisted the proper repeater reply. Cumberland answered a moment later, along with Fremantle's Inconstant, Captain Cockburn's Meleager, and the rest of Captain Nelson's small detached squadron, which had ended up far in the lead of the battle line, as usual.
"Mister Knolles, secure the hands from quarters," Lewrie said. "Run out the larboard battery and bowse up to the bulwarks. Same with the starboard battery. Get her flat on her keel again, and ready to comply with any alteration of course Agamemnon directs."