Again the rudder swiveled in its locks, while seamen aloft

hauled the sheets and braces, but this time the _Discovery _came about

easily, using the wind to advantage. As he turned to check the

whipstaff, Hawksworth heard a high-pitched ricochet off the steering

house and sensed a sudden dry numbness in his thigh. Only then did he

look up to see the line of Portuguese musketmen on the decks of the

_Bon Ventura_, firing sporadically at the English seamen on decks and

aloft.

Damn. A lucky shot by some Lisbon recruit. He seized a handful of

coarse salt from a bucket by the binnacle and pressed it against the

blood. A flash of pain passed briefly through his consciousness and

then was forgotten. The _Discovery's _stern had crossed the wind. There

was no time to lose. He moved down the companionway to again shout

orders to Malloyre on the gun deck. "Set for the fo'c'sle and rigging.

Fire as your guns bear."

The _Bon Ventura_ still lay immobile, so unexpected had been the

broadside. But a boarding party of Portuguese infantry was poised on

the galleon's forecastle superstructure, armed with swords and pikes,

ready to fling grapples and swing aboard the frigate. The Portuguese

had watched in helpless amazement as the _Discovery_ completely came

about and again was broadside. Suddenly the captain of the infantry

realized what was in store and yelled frantically at his men to take

cover. But his last command was lost in the roar of the _Discovery's

_guns.

This time flames and smoke erupted from the _Discovery's _portside

battery, but now it spewed knife-edged chunks of metal and twisting

crossbars. Again the screams came first, as the musketmen and infantry

on the fo'c'sle were swept across the decks in the deadly rain.

Crossbars chewed through the galleon's mainsail, parting it into two

flapping remnants, while the rigging on the foremast was blown by the

boards, tangling and taking with it a party of musketmen stationed in

the foretop. Now the galleon bobbed helpless in the water, as the last

seamen remaining on the shrouds plunged for the decks and safety.

"When you're ready, Mackintosh."

The Moghul · 第 29 / 152 题