Read Online The French Prize by James L. Nelson - Free Book Online Page B

It’s a six pounder, Jack, a six pounder!”
    Jack nodded. “A six pounder, yes, sir.” He looked at the gun, trying but failing to conjure up enthusiasm enough to match Oxnard’s. “Am I to take it somewhere?” he asked, but he already knew the answer. The planks of the new bulwark, straight, fresh, and sturdy, pretty much gave the game away.
    â€œNo, no!” Oxnard said. “We are arming the Abigail , do you see? You’ll have six all told, three to a broadside. I plan on doing the same to all my ships. Damned dangerous out there, you know. That business west of Montserrat, damned fine seamanship, but you can’t hope to have a sandbar there whenever you need one. We need to prepare, because the French are swarming like flies to … honey.”
    Biddlecomb regarded the gun for a long moment and tried to think of something to say. As far as engaging in a sea fight with the Abigail, he felt about that the same way he might feel if Oxnard had asked him to compose a symphony; he was not necessarily against the idea, but he had no notion of how to go about it. He knew he must communicate this fact, but he also knew what Oxnard’s nonsensical reply would be, so he braced himself for it as if preparing to take a blow he could not avoid, and said, “I appreciate the idea, to be sure, but I don’t know the use of these guns, and neither do the crew.”
    â€œWhat? The son of Isaac Biddlecomb can’t fire a cannon? Nothing to it! Can you fire a musket?”
    â€œYes, certainly.”
    â€œWell, this is just like a musket, but a damned sight bigger. And of course it has a vent and not a flintlock. And you must swab it out before reloading. In any event, you’ll be taking a passenger with you, a particular friend of mine named Charles Frost, who is quite familiar with such things, and he can certainly help you drill the men.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    In truth, Jack knew more about great guns than he was letting on. He could hardly not, being, as he was so often reminded, the son of Isaac Biddlecomb, and as a boy desperately eager to learn of such things. He knew, for instance, that a six pounder would generally enjoy a gun crew of at least five men, which meant Abigail could man exactly three guns at a time if no one was needed for anything else, such as steering or bracing the yards. He knew that these monstrous things weighed about a ton and a half apiece and putting six of them aft would do terrible things to the trim of his lovely ship. He knew that the men would whine endlessly if, along with their regular duties, he made them drill at the guns, though that complaint might be mitigated if they were allowed to actually fire them.
    In any event, Jack recognized immediately the enormous irritation that these great guns would cause, from ruining the trim of his vessel and consuming yards of deck space, to having his men maintain the guns and drill with the guns and move the damned guns, taking aboard and stowing powder and shot. It all meant a vast headache he did not need, particularly when he considered how wildly unlikely it was that they would actually have to fight someone.
    â€œWell, Jack, what do you think?” Oxnard asked, his voice fairly brimming with excitement.
    â€œI think it’s a fine idea, sir,” Jack said. There was nothing else he could say, and luckily, before Oxnard could plumb the depths of Jack’s sincerity more deeply, a dray drawn by two oxen and stacked high with barrels came rolling up with a noise that did not allow for any subtlety of conversation.
    â€œThis will be your flour, Jack,” Oxnard said, giving Jack a pat on the shoulder. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”
    â€œVery well, sir,” Jack said. He wondered, as Oxnard climbed back into his carriage, what odd turn would come his way next. He did not have to wait too terribly long to find out.

 
    6
    Upon his promotion to command, Jack