"Not a bit of it!" Charles said loudly. "if anyone is to be blamed, it's me. I was in command."
He stopped as Captain Sainsbury held up his hand commandingly. Both midshipmen met the captain's gaze as it moved sternly from one to the other. The severe lines of their commanding officer's face relaxed a little.
"It seems," he remarked, "that you are unable to decide on a question of fact. The credit is disclaimed by both of you, the blame is taken by both of you. I shall say nothing more about the blame, except to comment" - here he looked straight at Septimus - "that prudence, as well as zeal and ingenuity, is expected of a sea officer. Such good fortune will not always attend so daring a plan."
He sat back in his chair and turned his level gaze on Charles Barry.
"As to the credit," he continued, "I will merely say that the whole party bore themselves well. But - however dark the night - to face twenty French dragoons alone and in uniform was a thing requiring considerable courage. The officer who did that, Mr. Barry, was certainly no coward. That is all."
Chapter FOUR
Pistols for Two
MIDSHIPMAN SEPTIMUS QUINN peered through his spectacles at the chart which lay open on the table. On the opposite side of the table, which was in the dimly-lit gunroom of the frigate Althea, Senior Midshipman Fitzroy Cocker bent his fiery red head over the same chart as he toiled with dividers and parallel rulers to find the frigate's position.
"Deuce take it!" he muttered angrily to himself. "That puts her about two miles inland!"
"You have probably not taken the compass variation into account," suggested Septimus. "The angle should-"
"When I want instruction from you I'll ask for it," snapped Cocker, scowling at him.
Septimus raised his eyebrows and quietly continued his own calculations. Fitzroy Cocker had not troubled to conceal his scorn of the spectacled midshipman from the day Mr. Quinn had joined the Althea, and recent events had by no means improved his temper. Cocker had been furious at being passed over when Septimus and Charles Barry had been chosen for the raiding-party, and the fact that the others had won considerable credit by bringing in a valuable prisoner had only increased his wrath. Furthermore, Charles was beginning to leave the hot-tempered Cocker alone and seek the company of the junior midshipman in their off-duty hours. Cocker never spoke to Septimus nowadays without a snarl or an insult.
Mr. Midshipman Quinn, who had correctly located the Althea's position ten miles south-west of the enemy port of Cette, gravely considered the case of himself and Fitzroy Cocker. The situation was becoming unbearable. In the confined space of a thirty-eight-gun frigate any friction between shipmates made life very uncomfortable. It was bad enough to have made an enemy of the frigate's First Lieutenant, but Mr. Pyke only came into contact with Midshipman course of duty, while Fitzroy Cocker was his mess (…Quinn in the mate.)[1]
Septimus had come to no conclusion on this point, except that something would soon have to be done about it, when there was a squealing of pipes from the deck above, followed instantly by the stirring rataplan of the marines' drums and the shouting of rapid orders.
Without exchanging a word, the two midshipmen leapt to their feet, seized their hats, and hurried up the companion ladder to the deck. That drum-beat was "Quarters!" It might mean that the frigate was going into action.
After the gloom of the cabin the sunlight on deck made them blink. It was a brilliantly sunny afternoon, and the incredible blue of the Mediterranean stretched on every side with only the light summer breeze to ruffle it and send the Althea steadily through the water under full sail. The deck was crowded with seamen scampering to their action stations and noisy with the rumble of guns being run out. Midshipman Charles Barry was on the quarterdeck, a little apart from the captain and his lieutenants. He beckoned excitedly to the two as they made their way towards him.
"We sighted two enemy sail five minutes ago," he told them, "and we're bearing down on them. There they are-starboard bow."
The two ships were a couple of miles away across the blue sea, one of them rather larger than the Althea and the other smaller. They were heading away, but the frigate was slowly overhauling them.
"They're French," said Barry, with an eye on Captain Sainsbury, who was ordering the setting of studding-sails. "The big one's a merchant ship, but the other's a sloop-of-war."
"Then they may show fight, demme!" said Cocker. "The merchantman's bound to be armed. By heaven, I hope we have a sea-fight!" He turned to grin unpleasantly at Septimus. "That'll show young lickspittle his first bit of real war and test his little nerves."
Barry, who was on duty as signal midshipman, had his spyglass to his eye. A rag of bunting had fluttered to the yardarm of both the distant vessels.
"French colours!" he exclaimed. "And-" He broke off to report eagerly to the captain. "The merchantman's got a big gun aft, sir-a twenty-four-pounder, it might be."
Captain Sainsbury nodded without taking his gaze from the enemy ships. "Thank you, Mr. Barry. I had observed it." He shot one glance over his shoulder. "Mr. Cocker! Go for'ard to your station! Mr. Quinn! Stand by here as messenger!"
"Aye aye, sir!" returned the midshipmen together, and Cocker hurried towards the foredeck at the double.
"The merchantman's low in the water and we're overhauling nicely," Septimus heard the captain remark to Lieutenant Pyke. "I'll have that cargo, whatever it is."
The setting of the studding-sails, additional canvas hoisted at the sides of the frigate's ordinary sails, was making a difference to her speed. The ships ahead were visibly growing larger as the distance decreased.
"Almost within range, sir," said Mr. Gifford, the Second Lieutenant. He put his glass to his eye. "There's activity round that big gun on the merchantman. I think-"
He stopped speaking as a puff of white smoke broke suddenly from the merchantman's stern. A second or two afterwards a loud splash several hundred feet astern of the frigate and well to one side showed that the shot had been badly aimed.
"Shall I open fire with the stern-chasers, sir?" ventured Gifford.
"No. I wish to reserve my fire for the sloop. She is outgunned and we should deal with her easily. That twenty-four pounder won't hurt us if they do no better than that."
As the captain finished speaking a second puff of white appeared from the merchantman. This time, by luck or better judgment, the ball screamed through the rigging of the Althea's foremast.
"Mr. Quinn!" rapped the captain. "For'ard with you and see what damage has been done."
Septimus ran along the deck, between the rows of guns with their crews standing ready and stripped to the waist, and found Midshipman Cocker.
"Two topmast shrouds gone," Cocker said briefly in reply to his question. He was staring at the sloop, now quite close ahead. "Ah! Now you're going to stand fire, my lad. Look at that!"
The sloop had made a full turn to starboard, bringing the wind dead astern of her, and the line of her open gun-ports was presented to the pursuing frigate. As Septimus looked, that line vanished in a gush of smoke and orange flame. Then came the crash of the discharge, and immediately after it a high and terrifying screaming, approaching at lightning speed. Involuntarily Septimus ducked as the cannon-balls flew fifty feet overhead.
"Stand up, young lickspittle!" Cocker shouted, grinning contemptuously at him. "This is different from skulking in the bushes ashore while Barry takes the risk-eh?"
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Пропуск в источнике (файле doc). Что-то вроде «в то время как с Фицроем Кокером ему приходилось общаться постоянно (прим. ancient-skipper)