Post Captain (Aubrey & Maturin, #2)

by Patrick O'Brian

‘Volunteers, volunteers to come along with me and cut out that corvette. Richards, serve out cutlasses, pistols, axes. Mr Parker, you will stay in the ship.’ – The men would not follow Parker: how many would follow him? ‘Mr Smithers, the red cutter: you and your Marines board over her starboard bow. Mr Pullings, blue cutter to her larboard quarter, and the moment you are aboard cut her cables. Take axes. Then lay aloft and let fall her tops’ls. Attend to nothing else at all. Pick your men: quick. The rest come along with me and look alive, now. There’s not a moment to be lost.’ Killick handed him his pistols and he dropped into his gig, never looking behind him. The Polychrests poured over the side, thump thump thump down into the boats. The clash of arms, a voice bawling in his ear ‘Squeeze up, George. Make room, can’t you?’ How many men in the boats? Seventy? Eighty? Even more. A magnificent rise in his heart, all the blackness falling clear away.