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laundry rigged forward and displaying a couple of dozen shirts in different bright colours.
    Ramage noticed that the hammocks were not stowed in the nettings on top of the bulwarks: presumably they had been left slung below, in contrast to the Royal Navy’s strict practice of having them stowed first thing every morning. Apart from clearing out the lower-deck, it provided a thick canvas barricade against small arms fire.
    Through the glass he could see a dozen men working on the main-yard and another dozen grouped round the foreyard. Obviously
Le Tigre
had sprung both yards; it looked as though a sudden change of wind (or a mistake by the men at the wheel) had resulted in the ship being caught aback, the wind on the fore side of the sails pressing the yards back against the masts. It was easy enough to do; and if that was what had happened, then
Le Tigre
was lucky to escape with only a couple of sprung yards; ships had been dismasted by being caught aback.
    And that has passed another minute, Ramage realized, beginning now to feel excited rather than just tense: in another minute he would give the order to run the guns out; then number one gun on the starboard side would fire, and then the rest would follow in sequence.
    There was one task remaining. He turned to Orsini and said sharply: “Lower the French colours and hoist our own!”
    He turned to Aitken: “Run out the guns!”
    He lifted the telescope to his eye again, watching the group of French officers. He saw one of them gesticulating and was conscious that behind him the
Calypso
’s Tricolour had been hauled down. But it was too late for the French now; in a few moments the British colours would be hoisted and a few moments after that the first round of grapeshot would be smashing into her stern—he could hear the rumbling of the guns being run out.
    He glanced aft, saw the British colours hoisted home, and looked forward again. Almost at once a gun gave a throaty cough and smoke streamed out of the
Calypso
’s side; then there was a ripple of noise as the rest of the guns fired in succession.
    The French frigate’s stern seemed to pass quite leisurely along the
Calypso
’s starboard side, giving the gunners plenty of time to aim, Ramage noted. And, as he watched,
Le Tigre
’s transom appeared to dissolve in a cloud of dust, the stern-lights of the captain’s cabin beaten in as the grapeshot smashed their way through and went on the length of the ship, killing or maiming anyone in their path and flinging up lethal splinters.
    Finally the last gun in the broadside had fired and Ramage was beginning to cough as the smoke billowed aft, curling along in oily coils to cover the quarterdeck. He turned to Aitken: “Ready to wear round? Now we’ll give them the other broadside!”
    A shouted order to the quartermaster set the men spinning the wheel, and Aitken’s bellows through the speaking-trumpet brought the
Calypso
round to larboard, her sails slatting as the wind passed across her stern. Seamen hauled at braces to swing the yards round and then others hardened in the sheets to trim the sails. Then Aitken shouted down to the gunners to prepare to fire the larboard broadside.
    The
Calypso
did not have enough men to fire both broadsides at once and crews from the starboard guns ran across the deck to the other side. Gun captains hurriedly snatched up the lanyards and uncoiled them: second captains checked the quills in the vents and the priming powder before cocking the locks and standing back.
    As Jackson and his crew ran across the deck Stafford exclaimed: “Did you see what we did, Jacko? Just about bashed his stern-lights in!”
    As Jackson reached for the lanyard coiled on the breech he grinned: “Yes, we’ve spoiled that French captain’s furniture!”
    By now the
Calypso
had swung round and was steering an opposite course across the frigate’s stern. There were no last-minute