The Devil's Own Luck Read Online Free Page B

the rest going clean through the maincourse, leaving a neat round hole. But they missed the wood, their prime target if they were to achieve anything. Harry gave orders to stand by. Men ran along the steeply sloping deck to take up their various stations. Harry knew that his guns were pitifully light for an action against even the smallest frigate, but his attack would be delivered against the unprotected stern. Any ball that could penetrate the deadlights, which had been shipped to cover the frigate’s stern windows, would run the whole length of the lower deck. The potential for damage to wood was minimal. But flesh and blood could not withstand it. His aim, anyway, was to make him turn, and seek to rid himself of this pest.
    Harry yelled the command and the way came off the Medusa, as the quartermaster swung the wheel. She came round, her starboard guns facing the stern of the Verite. Harry did not fire a broadside, but instead instructed each gun to fire as it bore. One by one the guns went off, smashing into the heavy wooden shutters. He could hear the sound of breaking glass as one shot followed through the hole made by the previous round. He shouted again, and those men set to look after the sails hauled on their ropes to bring the yards round. The Medusa caught the wind, and as the guns were reloaded she set off again in pursuit of the quarry.
    Three times Harry carried out this manoeuvre, but instead of firing into the stern of the Verite he set his guns at maximum elevation, firing on the up-roll, both trying to hit a spar, as well as unnerving those directing the battle from the quarterdeck of the frigate. The actual damage he caused was minimal, but the French captain could not let the Medusa just continue, since she was bound to inflict some serious damage eventually.
    Harry, gaining speed in the wake of the Verite after his fourth sally, saw the French crew rushing to man the sheets. These ropes, once loosened, would allow the yards to swing, taking the pressure off the sails. The helmsman could then use the rudder and the remaining forward movement of the ship to swing her broadside on to the Medusa, bringing her guns to bear on the smaller ship that would, if properly aimed, inflict terrible damage.
    But this was just what Harry had set out to do. First to get the Verite to confront him, thus slowing her down. Then to use the superior sailing qualities of the Medusa to get past the Frenchman. Placed in front of her, the task of slowing her down would be simpler. The question was, which way would the Verite turn? Would she tack or wear?
    Harry had all his men in place. He watched the rudder, hanging from the great sternpost, waiting. He wanted to pass her stern close to, and fire a full broadside into it as he did so. He saw the sails flap as the yards were released. The rudder started to swing the Verite to starboard. He set the wheel and trimmed the Medusa ’s yards to take her to larboard. It was a dangerous manoeuvre. If the Frenchman came round quickly, she would get a broadside off at him before he could get out of the way. Harry was entirely reliant upon their lack of skill.
    The side of the Verite started to show, the row of open gunports coming into view. He could see the men on the guns trying to lever them round so that they could fire on the Medusa as soon as possible. The Verite, coming up into the wind, was trying to use that to check her way. Harry needed the same wind to escape. It was kinder to him than it was to the Frenchman, whose sails were simply not coming in quick enough for a speedy manoeuvre. Harry, at the wheel himself, had the wind perfectly placed abaft the beam. Still, it was a narrow scrape. The Verite ’s side disappeared in a cloud of smoke. One shot smashed the stern lantern, but the rest fell harmlessly, churning up the sea behind him.
    “Back the foretopsail,” he yelled as he came across her stern. The Medusa ’s speed was slightly checked, and as she drifted by the