Baltic Mission by Richard Woodman Read Free Book Online

starboard bow. Hill paused, sensing an open breach between captain and first lieutenant where he had anticipated only an exchange of remarks concerning the ship’s internal routines. He coughed awkwardly. ‘Beg pardon, sir, but I . . .’
    â€˜Yes, yes, I see them,’ snapped Drinkwater and raising his glass once more, affected to ignore Rogers.
    Standing out from Elsinore Road to the south of Cronbourg was a two-decked line-of-battleship, and astern of her a small frigate. They too were cramming on sail, coming in at an angle to
Antigone
’s bow as though to intercept her.
    â€˜Their bearing’s opening, sir,’ offered Hill, coolly professional again, ‘only slowly, but they’ll not catch us.’
    â€˜Very well, Mr Hill, but we ought not to outrun our charges.’ Drinkwater nodded at the brigs, now some distance astern of them. The Danish warships would pass between
Antigone
and the two British merchantmen.
    â€˜Notified of our approach from the castle, I’ll warrant,’ remarked Hill.
    â€˜Yes.’ Drinkwater subjected the two ships to a further scrutiny through his glass. The Danes had proved tough opponents in 1801, reluctant to surrender and forcing from Lord Nelson the remark that they played the hottest fire he had ever been under. The two Danish ships broke out their own studdingsails. He watched critically. It was well done.
    â€˜I thought we had buggered their damned fleet for them,’ said Rogers with characteristic coarseness in an attempt to defuse the atmosphere between himself and Drinkwater.
    â€˜Apparently not,’ Drinkwater replied as if nothing untoward had occurred, watching the ships as their respective courses converged. But Hill was right, the bearings of the Danes were drawing aft, showing that the
Antigone
was the faster ship. ‘They’ve had six years to right the damage,’ he said, turning to look again at the lumbering brigs on the larboard quarter. ‘I don’t like exposing our charges like this and I’m rather disposed to test their mettle . . . Secure the guns where they are, Mr Rogers,’ he said with a sudden sharpness, ‘and get the stuns’ls off her!’
    Rogers began bellowing orders. Again
Antigone
seethed with activity. Whatever discontents might be running through her people, the chance of demonstrating their superiority as seamen before a mob of tow-haired Danes animated the ship. In a few minutes her studdingsails fluttered inboard.
    â€˜Clew up the courses!’ Drinkwater ordered sharply, for he had not wanted anything to go wrong, or the Danes to put a shot across his bow, turning a voluntary act into a submissive one.
    â€˜Lower the t’gallants on the caps!’
Antigone
’s speed slowed, yet sheheld her course and the hands were sent back to their battle-stations as the Danish warships came up, the frigate ranging out to larboard so that they overtook on either quarter.
    Hill was looking at him anxiously.
    â€˜My God,’ said Rogers to no one in particular, ‘if they open fire now they will . . .’ His voice trailed off as he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. It was, Drinkwater noted, the gesture of a thirsty man.
    â€˜They are neutrals, gentlemen,’ he said. ‘They dare not fire upon us without provoking an act of war. They simply wish to demonstrate their readiness not to be intimidated on their own doorstep . . . Just keep the men at their stations in silence if you please, Mr Rogers, and perhaps we may yet surprise ’em,’ Drinkwater added as an outbreak of chatter started up in the waist.
    Drinkwater strode forward as the line-of-battleship ranged up on their starboard beam, her two tiers of guns also run out so that they dominated the much lower deck of the British frigate.
    â€˜Mr Mount!’ Drinkwater called to the marine officer.
    â€˜Sir?’
    â€˜Form your men in