He could again distinguish Jackson, Rossi and Stafford: they had been joined by Gilbert, Louis, Albert and Auguste, and they were making concentrated attacks where the Frenchmen seemed thickest, keeping up a constant cry of 'Dido'.
Just then Ramage saw that the great forecourse above his head was now ablaze: the wind was spreading the flames and it was burning like the wick of a gigantic lantern, beginning to throw strong shadows the length of the ship. He watched a burning piece of the sail float down and land on the deck, still aflame. While that was happening flames were running up the rigging from the deck as they got a grip on the tarred rope, and Ramage hoped the topmen would find a way down without burning themselves.
How long would it take the French to realize they were in greater danger from the fires than the boarders? What would they do? Anyone trying to put out fires would be attacked by boarders, yet their attempt to deal with the boarders was failing.
As if to emphasize that, Ramage found the Frenchmen in front of him were being driven back along the gangway: step by step they were going back aft, although soon they would back into their comrades fighting off the Didos who had boarded aft. A quick glance showed at least half a dozen fires were now burning on the fo'c'sle, and the blaze by the forebitts had really taken hold, spreading along the deck planking. The forebitts themselves were now burning, looking like tree stumps.
If only they could drive the Frenchmen away from the main rigging, so that topmen could get up to set the maincourse alight. Just as the thought occurred, Ramage saw flames spreading along the mizen topsail - men must have got aloft there as soon as anyone got on board, and with the wind acting as a bellows the flames were spreading rapidly.
Gradually it was getting light on board the Achille as flames spread forward and aloft: the wind was freshening, as if allying itself with the British, and Ramage could smell the burning and could see smoke wreathing itself in the flames.
With a desperate howl a group of Frenchmen tried to break through to the fo'c'sle, obviously intent on getting at the fire round the forebitts, but the Didos beat them back, driving them even further aft. By now they were abaft the mainshrouds, and Ramage saw some of his men run from forward, weave their way through the group of men fighting, and scramble hand over hand up the ratlines.
He was just plunging back into the fight when he was startled to see both Jackson and Stafford break away and run forward. Ramage paused a moment to watch them and then saw that they had run to a large piece of blazing foresail, which had just fallen to the deck. Slashing at it with their cutlasses, they sliced away burning sections and spread them out over the deck to start more fires.
By the time Ramage looked aft again to the maincourse, he saw it was now ablaze and the topmen were scrambling back along the footropes to safety. The wind was spreading the fire and Ramage guessed that the flames would run up the rigging and set the topmast alight.
Both the forecourse and the maincourse were now well ablaze and the mizen topsail was now burning. He could see the topmen who had set that sail alight now scrambling down the mizen ratlines. The three blazing sails looked like fiery crosses and Ramage imagined what a fine sight they must make from the Dido: Aitken and his men would have no doubt about the success of the operation so far.
He could hear the crackling of flames above the shouting and clanging of cutlasses, and wind eddies were now bringing smoke from the burning sails down to deck level. He just had time to ward off a boarding pike wielded by a huge Frenchman and was about to lunge at him with his sword when the man collapsed and a jubilant Orsini, waving a bloodstained cutlass, shouted: 'Not many left now!'
Nor were there: the Didos were forcing the Frenchmen aft, past the mainshrouds and into the arms of the men who had boarded from aft: the French were caught in between. And, almost more important, Ramage saw that other Didos following up the boarders were crouching down, setting new fires.
For a moment he thought of the French captain: the man would be in agony, seeing his ship slowly begin to blaze, set on fire by an enemy he could not dislodge. And he must be cursing at having put ashore some of his men: he would now be glad of anyone who could wield a cutlass or stab with a pike.
Southwick was gesticulating aloft and Ramage looked up to see that the great foreyard itself was now on fire, the dry wood obviously set ablaze by the burning canvas. Then he noticed that flames or sparks had set fire to the next saiclass="underline" the foretopsail was now beginning to burn.
There were now twenty or more fires burning on the fo'c'sle: the burning sail spread about by Jackson and Stafford had started three or four others, and the original one round the forebitts had spread across twelve feet or more of deck, lapping at the foot of the foremast like flaming waves at a mangrove root.
The fires, Ramage realized, were more than the French could put out without using a fire engine: no buckets would douse the flames. And the fire engine was not on deck: it would take them ten minutes to manhandle it up from below.
Just at that moment the whole maincourse dropped to the deck as the ropebands burned through along with the gaskets. The blazing mass of canvas blanketed almost the whole width of the ship, and at that moment Ramage knew the ship was doomed: the canvas was a massive torch. The flames lit up the whole ship, and nothing now could save her.
The time had come to save the Didos. Already the French were breaking off the fight and dashing to the blazing sail, wrenching at the unburned parts in a hopeless attempt to pull them clear. But the sail was enormous: it lay across the deck like a sinuous fiery dragon, spurting flame and sparks.
The fires were now crackling like burning bracken, and the Achille was lit up as though by a dozen small suns. The Frenchmen who had been fighting on the gangway were now all struggling with the burning sail, and the Didos were watching them.
'Why don't we attack 'em?' bawled Southwick.
'It's time for us to go,' Ramage shouted back. 'The fires have taken a good hold.'
With that he shouted: 'Didos - to the boats!'
The nearest men heard him and began to make their way forward, ready to climb down into the boats. What about the boarding parties aft - would they be able to see that the forward parties were withdrawing? He could not risk it, and looked round for Orsini.
'Can you get through to the after parties and tell them to withdraw? At once!'
'Aye aye, sir,' said Orsini, delighted at being given a special task. There was so much movement amidships that he saw no difficulty getting through in the confusion.
As he walked forward Ramage was surprised at how successful his men had been in setting fires. Apart from the big blazes where the foresail had dropped down and round the forebitts, there were many more smaller ones where flames had got a firm grip on woodwork. A six-foot section of the bulwark was now burning fiercely in one place and a twelve-foot section in another. The whole deck was burning at the foot of the belfry and the galley chimney stood up amid a sea of flames.
The boarders were now climbing down into the boats, and Ramage reflected on how he had imagined this episode might have ended: that the French would drive them back into the boats amid a withering fire of musketry. Instead the men were boarding with as little concern as they had shown when they first boarded the boats from the Dido.
He and Southwick had looked at the bodies left on the gangway. Five Didos were dead, and he saw that four wounded were being helped down into the boats. There were many French dead on the section of the gangway where they had been fighting. There were more aft. How many of the after boarding parties had lost their lives?