Fire! yelled Gerardhis voice, too, was cracking with excitement.
The Lydia heaved again with the recoil of the guns, and the smoke billowed over her deck, and through the smoke came the iron hail of the Natividad s broadside.
Give it her again, lads! screamed Gerard. There goes her fore-mast! Well done, lads.
The guns crews cheered madly, even though their two hundred voices sounded feeble against the gale. In that sudden flurry of action the enemy had been hard hit. Through the smoke Hornblower saw the Natividad s fore-mast shrouds suddenly slacken, tauten again, slacken once more, and then her whole foremast bowed forward; her main topmast whipped and then followed it, and the whole vanished over the side. The Natividad turned instantly up into the wind, while at the same time the Lydias head fell off as she turned downwind despite the efforts of the men at the wheel. The gale screamed past Hornblowers ears as the strip of grey sea which divided the ships widened more and more. One last gun went off on the main deck, and then the two ships lay pitching upon the turbulent sea, each unable to harm the other.
Hornblower wiped the spray slowly from his eyes again. This battle was like some long drawn nightmare, where one situation of fantastic unreality merged into the next. He felt as if he were in a nightmare, toohe could think clearly, but only by compelling himself to do so, as though it was unnatural to him.
The gap between the ships had widened to a full half mile, and was widening further. Through his glass he could see the Natividad s forecastle black with men struggling with the wreck of the foremast. The ship which was first ready for action again would win. He snapped the glass shut and turned to face all the problems which he knew were awaiting his immediate solution.
Chapter XV
Lydiawere deluges of spray sweeping the deck, too, so that he and his clothes were as wet as if he had been swimming in the sea, but he was not aware of it. Everyone was appealing to him for ordersfirst lieutenant, gunner, boatswain, carpenter, surgeon, purser. The ship had to be made fit to fight again, even though there was every doubt as to whether she would even live through the storm which shrieked round her. It was the acting-surgeon who was appealing to him at the moment.
But what am I to do, sir? he said pathetically, white faced, wringing his hands. This was Laurie, the pursers steward, who had been appointed acting-surgeon when Hankey the surgeon died. He had fifty wounded down in the grim dark cockpit, maddened with pain, some with limbs torn off, and all of them begging for the assistance which he had no idea of how to give.
What are you to do, sir? mimicked Hornblower scornfully, beside himself with exasperation at this incompetence. After two months in which to study your duties you have to ask what to do!
Laurie only blenched a little more at this, and Hornblower had to make himself be a little helpful and put some heart in this lily-livered incompetent.
See here, Laurie, he said, in more kindly fashion. Nobody expects miracles of you. Do what you can. Those who are going to die you must make easy. You have my orders to reckon every man who has lost a limb as one of those. Give them laudanumtwenty-five drops a man, or more if that wont ease them. Pretend to bandage em. Tell em theyre certain to get better and draw a pension for the next fifty years. As for the others, surely your mother wit can guide you. Bandage em until the bleeding stops. You have rags enough to bandage the whole ships crew. Put splints on the broken bones. Dont move any man more than is necessary. Keep every man quiet. A tot of rum to every wounded man, and promise em another at eight bells if they lie still. I never knew a Jack yet who wouldnt go through hell fire for a tot of rum. Get below, man, and see to it.
Aye aye, sir.
Laurie could only think of his own responsibility and duty; he scuttled away below without a thought for the hell-turned-loose on the main deck. Here one of the twelve-pounders had come adrift, its breechings shot away by the Natividad s last broadside. With every roll of the ship it was rumbling back and forth across the deck, a ton and a half of insensate weight, threatening at any moment to burst through the ships side. Galbraith, with twenty men trailing ropes, and fifty men carrying mats and hammocks, was trailing it cautiously from point to point in the hope of tying it or smothering it into helplessness. As Hornblower watched them, a fresh heave of the ship canted it round and sent it thundering in a mad charge straight at them. They parted wildly before it, and it charged through them, its trucks squealing like a forest of pigs, and brought up with a shattering crash against the mainmast.
Nows your chance, lads! Jump to it! yelled Hornblower.
Galbraith, running forward, risked limb and life to pass a ropes end through an eye tackle. Yet he had no sooner done it than a new movement of the ship swung the gun round and threatened to waste his effort.