that instant an
opening occurred through which a single mast, and a single sail were
visible, in the precise spot where Wycherly had stated the enemy might
be looked for. It was a mizzen-top-sail, beyond a question, and above it
was fluttering the little square flag of the rear-admiral. Sir Gervaise
decided on the character of the vessel, and on his own course, in an
instant. Stepping to the edge of the poop, with his natural voice,
without the aid of a trumpet of any sort, he called out in tones that
rose above the roar of the contest, the ominous but familiar nautical
words of "stand by!" Perhaps a call from powerful lungs (and the
vice-admiral's voice, when he chose to use it, was like the blast of a
clarion) is clearer and more impressive, when unaided by instruments,
than when it comes disguised and unnatural through a tube. At any rate,
these words were heard even on the lower deck, by those who stood near
the hatches. Taking them up, they were repeated by a dozen voices, with
such expressions as "Look out, lads; Sir Jarvy's awake!" "Sight your
guns!" "Wait till she's square!" and other similar admonitions that it
is usual for the sea-officer to give, as he is about to commence the
strife. At this critical moment, Sir Gervaise again looked up, and
caught another glimpse of the little flag, as it passed into a vast
wreath of smoke; he saw that the ship was fairly abeam, and, as if
doubling all his powers, he shouted the word "fire!" Greenly was
standing on the lower-deck ladder, with his head just even with the
coamings of the hatch, as this order reached him, and he repeated it in
a voice scarcely less startling. The cloud on the larboard side was
driven in all directions, like dust scattered by wind. The ship seemed
on fire, and the missiles of forty-one guns flew on their deadly errand,
as it might be at a single flash. The old Plantagenet trembled to her
keel, and even bowed a little at the recoils, but, like one suddenly
relieved from a burthen, righted and went on her way none the less
active. That timely broadside saved the English commander-in-chiefs ship
from an early defeat. It took the crew of le Pluton, her new adversary,
by surprise; for they had not been able to distinguish the precise
position of their enemy; and, besides doing vast injury to both hull and
people, drew her fire at an unpropitious moment. So uncertain and hasty,
indeed, was the discharge the French ship gave in return, that no small
p