Read Online A Flag of Truce by David Donachie - Free Book Online Page B

curious, sir, what tempted you to become a sailor?’ Dilnot asked
    This had Pearce wondering if the man could read his mind, it being a perfect foil to deflect any questioning of him. To open up or dissemble? He decided on the latter; what Dilnot did not know would not hurt him, while finding he was in the presence of a military novice might affect his actions.
    ‘Shall I say, sir, that I had little choice.’
    ‘Choice,’ said Dilnot wistfully. ‘Few in this world have that.’
    ‘You?
    ‘My father was a soldier before me, Mr Pearce, and reckoned the army the best career a man could aspire to, so I was chosen for the profession. He would turn in his grave to see me acting as a marine.’
    ‘Is it so arduous a burden?’
    ‘Only at times.’ There was a strange glint in his eye as he added, ‘At others, like now, I would not wish to be elsewhere.’
    ‘As you say, Mr Dilnot, time to sleep I think.’
    ‘I must find a spot away from that racket my men are making.’
    ‘Do you not have a billet in town?’
    ‘I do, and so do my men, but it seems bizarre tomarch all the way down to the Old Town, only to have to march all the way back up again tonight.’
    ‘Our party of seamen will do it.’
    ‘Your party of seamen are not carrying sixty pounds of kit, sir.’
    A steady stream of supplies arrived as they slept, all the things Pearce, advised by Dilnot, had informed Elphinstone were necessary. A couple of light carts, a dozen baulks of twelve-foot timbers, some capstan bars, more blocks and pulleys, plus, as the sun dipped into the west, a strong party of tars who would be needed for what was hoped would be the final act. Dilnot had his men lined up and was, with his sergeant, checking their muskets, ensuring they had the requisite amount of powder and shot and that their bayonets, which tended to get used for every job under the sun, had not been blunted. The sound of trudging boots had Pearce turn round, to observe a dusty midshipman approaching, and seeing he had been spotted, the lad grinned.
    ‘Mr Pearce, sir. I have been sent to assist.’
    ‘Mr Harbin, I am glad to see you.’
    ‘And I you, sir.’
    ‘Mr Dilnot, allow me to name Midshipman Harbin who recently sailed with me. If he is to go out with us tonight, I beg you ensure you keep an eye on him, otherwise he will be attacking the French command tent single-handed.’
    Harbin blushed through ten thousand freckles as Dilnot greeted him. ‘Mr Pearce, we need lifting frames erected with pulleys to raise both the cannon and their trunnions onto the carts. Of necessity they will have to be lifted over the rampart and their wheels replaced in open ground. It would be an asset if we could make that a single manoeuvre.’
    When Pearce said he was glad to see Harbin it was not just from affection. The boy was not only enthusiastic and brave, he was intelligent and knowledgeable in areas where his superior would struggle, perfect for the task now in hand. Pearce listened carefully as Harbin outlined how he would carry out the manoeuvre, the right size of lifting frames, their location, a set of ropes and pulleys that would take the cannon over the rampart to a lower frame that would sit right on the level of the carts once that had been established.
    ‘So, you see, sir, it will slide very neatly onto a bed of straw.’
    ‘Excellent, Mr Harbin. I can leave you to get that rigged. The coxswain, Robertshaw and I, will see to the carts.’
    A set of fascines were placed upright outside the rampart to create a screen behind which, with torches, the men could work, not perfect enough to entirely cut them off from view but enough to cause confusion as to their purpose at a distance. The wheels of the smaller carts had been knocked offthe axles, and as soon as the light faded the body of each of the two were lifted over the rampart, the wheels put back in place once they were on the outside and the necessary tools, powder, shot and flintlocks loaded on; long, thick