Baltic Mission by Richard Woodman Read Free Book Online Page A

two divisions, facing outboard on either side, then bring ’em to attention.’
    â€˜Very good, sir.’
    As the quarterdecks of the three ships drew level the marines stood rigid. Drinkwater casually mounted the starboard rail in the mizen rigging. He turned back inboard. ‘Have the hands piped aloft to man the yards, Mr Rogers.’ He ignored the puzzled apprehension in Rogers’s eyes and turned to the Danish ship, not two hundred feet away and stealing their wind. He doffed his hat in a wide sweep.
    â€˜Good day, sir!’ he shouted.
    A line of Danish officers regarded him and there was obviously some conferring going on on her quarterdeck. After a pause a junior officer was pushed up onto her rail.
    â€˜Gut morning, Capten. Vat ship is that, please?’
    â€˜His Britannic Majesty’s frigate
Antigone
, upon a cruise with merchantmen in company, sir,’ Drinkwater bawled back cheerfully.
    â€˜Ve hope you do not vish to stop Dansk ships, no?’
    â€˜My orders are to stop all ships carrying cargoes of war material to His Majesty’s enemies. This policy is clearly stated in His Majesty’s Orders in Council, sir, copies of which have been delivered to your Government’s representatives in London.’
    The Danish officer bent down, obviously in consultation with a senior, for he stood again. ‘You are varned against stopping Dansk ships, Capten.’
    â€˜I shall carry out my orders, sir, as I expect you to maintain your neutrality!’ He turned to Rogers: ‘I want three hearty cheers when I call for ’em.’
    He heard Rogers mutter ‘Good God!’ and turned again to the Dane. The big battleship was drawing ahead now and he could read her name across her stern:
Princesse Sophia Frederica
.
    â€˜Three cheers for His Majesty the King of Denmark! Hip! Hip! Hip!’
    â€˜Hooray . . .’ The three cheers ripped from over his head and Drinkwater jumped down from the rail.
    â€˜Now, Sam, let fall those courses, hoist the t’gallants and reset the stuns’ls!’ He turned to the sailing master, standing by the wheel. ‘Hold your course, Mr Hill . . . Bye the bye, did you get the name of the frigate?’ Drinkwater nodded to larboard.
    â€˜Aye, sir,
Triton
, twenty-eight guns.’
    â€˜Very well.’ Drinkwater clasped his hands behind his back and offered up a silent prayer that his pride was not to be humbled in front of such witnesses. But he need not have worried. It was not merely his own pride that was at stake; some of the defiance in his tone had communicated itself to the hands. This was no longer a petty internal matter, no empty evolution at the behest of the first lieutenant, but a matter of national pride. Now the captain was handling the ship and they behaved as though they were in action and their very lives depended upon their smartness.
    Antigone
gathered speed as she again spread her wings. Her long jib-boom swung across the great square stern of the two-decker as she pointed closer to the wind. She began to overhaul the Danish ship to windward and with an amiable insouciance Drinkwater again waved his hat at the knot of officers who stared stolidly back at him.
    The cheering provoked no response from the Danes.
    â€˜Miserable bastards,’ remarked Rogers sullenly, coming aft as the studdingsail halliards were coiled down. In their wake the Danish battleship hauled her wind and put about, turning back towards her anchorage off Elsinore.
    Triton
kept them company as far as the island of Hven, then she too put about and the incident was over. To larboard the Scanian coast of Sweden lay in the distance, while closer to starboard the coast of Zealand fell away to a low-lying, pastoral countryside dotted withchurch towers and white farms. Astern of
Antigone
the two brigs followed in their wake, while ten miles ahead, faintly blue in the distance, the spires of Copenhagen broke the