‘It’s the timing of the thing, d’ye see?’ said Lieutenant Hardiman, leaning on Coke to peer along the brass barrel and over the beakhead. ‘If the Hogens see us too soon, they’ll recognise us as a fireship – else why would a two-masted sloop be charging full tilt at ’em? – and they’ll rake us so bad they might disable us before we can reach ’em. Or shift out the way and then broadside us as we pass.’ He grinned. ‘Neither good. But if the admiral shelters us close, as he strives to do –’
He left the sentence unfinished and simply pointed. Raising his head from the g*n – he had been trying to remember all that Squires had done in terms of siting the g*n, though truly it had been precious little – Coke looked ahead. The Antelope was tight in the lee of the Prince George, scarce fifty yards be
