Their Lordships Request: A Harry Heron Adventure (117 page)

***

             
With
Spartan
hidden
by
the
encroaching
darkness
and
the
heavy
cloud
overhead
she
was
unobserved
by
the
protagonists
as
she
approached.
The
rattle
of
the
drums
sent
men
racing
to
their
tasks.
Tables
were
stripped
and
stowed,
the
galley
fire
tipped
overside
from
its
metal
grate,
bulkheads
were
taken
down
and
struck
below
or
simply
folded
to
the
deckhead.
The
Gunroom
was
stripped
and
the
Midshipmen
'
s
chests
gathered
into
a
central
position
to
become
an
operating
table
for
the
surgeon.
Powder
Monkeys
raced
along
the
decks
with
buckets
of
sand
spreading
this
around
the
guns
to
ensure
the
gun
crews
had
an
adequate
grip
on
the
planks
as
they
served
their
charges.
Then
the
boys
ran
to
fetch
their
cartridges
as
the
apparent
chaos
descended
into
order
and
the
lieutenant
'
s
reported
their
guns
ready.

             
At
his
station
near
the
mainmast
and
in
charge
of
the
guns
of
the
Midship
division
of
the
lower
gundeck,
Harry
waited
in
the
semi-darkness
for
further
instructions.
He
had
already
checked
that
his
gun
captains
were
ready,
their
flints
checked
and
their
guns
primed
and
ready
to
fire,
the
big
thirty-two
pounders
as
yet
hidden
behind
their
closed
ports.
On
the
deck
above
he
could
imagine
the
twenty-four
pounders
arrayed
and
ready
and
the
quarterdeck
carronades
–
the
dreaded
'
smashers
'
–
would
be
ready
to
deal
out
their
death
and
destruction
once
they
closed
the
range
sufficiently.
For
now
it
was
a
waiting
game.
Idly
he
watched
the
young
Powder
Monkey
serving
the
gun
to
which
Ferghal
was
now
assigned
and
recognised
him
as
Danny
Gunn,
the
urchin
they
had
taken
aboard
in
Portsmouth
all
those
many
months
ago.

             
Shouts
from
above
snapped
him
back
into
readiness.
The
rain
seemed
to
be
easing
away,
though
the
curtain
of
water
still
partially
concealed
the
furthest
dhows.

             
"
Prepare
to
run
out,
"
the
fourth
lieutenant
hurried
along
the
line
of
guns.
"
One
of
the
devils
is
making
a
run
for
it,
but
the
other
two
are
still
engaged
–
mark
your
target
well.
"

             
"
Aye,
aye,
sir,
"
Harry
responded,
then
moved
to
speak
to
his
gun
captains
directly.
Having
made
sure
they
understood
him,
he
resumed
his
position
behind
the
Number
Twelve
gun,
from
here
he
could
see
all
his
Gun
Captains
and
be
seen
and,
more
importantly,
heard,
by
them.
The
nearest,
Bates,
grinned
and
adjusted
his
neckerchief
now
tied
about
his
head
and
over
his
ears.

             
"
You
'
m
need
ter
stick
summat
in
yer
ears,
sir,
"
he
said.
"
Yer
'
ll
be
deaf
else.
"

             
Harry
mentally
kicked
himself
and
said,
"
Thank
you
for
the
reminder,
Bates,
pass
me
some
spare
wadding.
"
He
had
barely
finished
filling
his
ears
with
the
cotton
wads
torn
from
a
spare
gun
wad
when
the
order
arrived.

             
"
Open
ports
and
run
out!
"

             
The
squeal
of
the
gun
trucks
and
the
growled
orders
to
the
men
handling
the
guns
lasted
for
a
few
seconds
only,
then
silence
descended
again.

             
"
Fire
as
you
bear!
"

             
Harry
ducked
and
peered
along
the
gun.
At
first
nothing
showed,
then
the
ship
lifted
slightly
and
he
saw
the
low
hull,
with
its
high
stern
and
the
pair
of
raked
masts,
the
great
lateen
sails
even
now
being
sheeted
home
by
her
frenzied
crew.
The
range
was
a
little
extreme
he
felt,
with
the
target
still
several
cables
distant
so
he
gave
orders
for
the
guns
to
be
individually
pointed.
Satisfied
he
stepped
back
and
ordered,
"
On
the
up
roll.
Fire!
"

             
The
barrage
had
some
effect,
since
the
great
triangular
sails
now
had
several
holes
in
them
and
one
of
the
great
lateen
yards
was
sagging
badly,
evidently
held
together
only
by
its
rigging.
Around
Harry
the
guns
were
again
being
run
up
to
fire
and
he
bawled
to
his
gun
captains,
"
Point
your
guns.
Don
'
t
let
him
recover.
"
The
guns
began
to
bellow
their
anger
in
rapid
succession
and
cheers
from
the
upper
deck
suggested
that
some
of
the
shot
at
least
might
have
gone
home.
Eager
though
he
was
to
see
what
was
happening
Harry
had
his
hands
full
ensuring
his
guns
were
properly
loaded
and
run
up
to
send
another
series
of
the
big
thirty-two
pound
balls
hurtling
across
the
diminishing
gap.