STO'B 5-4 Captain Fitton

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Some time later he returned to the deck. Rich, black smoke poured from Badger’s funnel, blowing forward toward Malta, still at least a day and a half away. Astern, the tangibly true Chasseur maintained a cable’s length distance. As he watched her a signal rose on her rigging: two flags that flapped in the breeze and danced in her smoke. Philip pulled a glass from rack at the binnacle: signal 62. What was 62? Overpressed with sail? No, but something similar. He returned to the binnacle and opened the lead-covered signal book, leaving it lying in the drawer and flipping idly through the pages until he came to signal 62: unable to maintain present speed. He moved clear of Badger’s masts and rigging, hoisting himself into the rigging and turned his glass back to the Chasseur: her smoke looked as black as ever, but her sails were curiously flat. As he watched, she fired a leeward gun.

The report of the gun reached their ears and roused Midshipman Wilkins. “Chasseur has fired a gun, sir,” he said to Mister South, the master of the watch.

“Aye,” said Mister South, who was perfectly aware of this from his own ears, and perfectly aware of her reason for doing so, having seen and decoded her signal some minutes earlier. “And why do you suppose she has done as much?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t know.”

“Come, now, you‘ll have to do better than that. There’s a spare glass at the binnacle.”

Wilkins pulled a glass from the rack. “She’s showing a signal sir.” he said.

“Is she, now?” said the master.

Author's Note|First Post|Previous|Next| last episode with Dr M’Mullen GLOSSARY