STO'B 42

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But now, with all three vessels turning north out of the harbor, the fortress battery opened up again. Shot, some of it heated, rained down on them at an unbelievable rate as they approached the narrow channel between the bar and the opposite shore, and one of these plunged through the Citoyen Pierre’s decks, through the bottom of her hull, and into the water below.

This was the end. Water surged in through this new hole, overcoming the pumps, which were already struggling to keep the snow afloat. “Steer for the bar, Kent,” Philip said to the man at the tiller, “we’ll beach her.”

“Yes, sir,” said Kent.

“Sergeant Quinn,” Philip called his junior Marine sergeant over, “take your men and move the prisoners into the snow’s jolly boat and set them adrift. Gather up all of the combustibles you can find and place them around the main mast.”

“Yes, sir,” said Quinn, saluting and then tasking off men to search different parts of the snow. Philip stepped below to the cabin to rifle, found a speaking trumpet, the logbook and a few other papers that might prove useful if they could be translated, and returned to the deck just as the Citoyen Pierre ran up on the bar.

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GLOSSARY