Читать книгу The Captain from Connecticut онлайн

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"They've had two years to learn in," said Hubbard, his thin lips twisted into a bitter smile. For two years British ships had been studying American waters at first hand.

The wind shrieked down upon them with renewed force. The Delaware was labouring frightfully in the waves; even on deck, and despite the noise of the wind, they could hear the groans of the woodwork as she writhed in their grip.

"If you were down below, sir," said Murray, "and he wasn't behind us, I'd send down to you for permission to heave-to, sir."

"And I'd give it," said Peabody. He could smile at that, just as he could always smile in the midst of a struggle.

"Can we lighten the ship any more, sir?" asked Hubbard, with the extreme deference necessary at a moment when he might be suspected of offering advice to his captain.

"No," said Peabody. Pitching the spar deck carronades overside might ease her a little, but would give her no increase in speed in this rough water--only in smooth water with a faint wind would decrease in draft benefit them there, and he had already flung overboard the only weights which were not essential to the Delaware's efficiency as a fighting force. The nod which Hubbard gave indicated his argument with Peabody's unvoiced argument, and as if with one mind they turned to look back at the two-decker. Something more than her topsails were in sight now--as the Delaware rose on a wave they could catch a glimpse of her black hull lifting menacingly above the horizon.