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Blackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge), 1825-1900

"Springhaven : a Tale of the Great War"

All three were standing to the north-north-west, under easy
sail, and on the starboard tack, but scarcely holding steerage-way,
and taking little heed of it. Close quarters, closer and closer still,
muzzle to muzzle, and beard to beard, clinched teeth, and hard pounding,
were the order of the day, with the crash of shattered timber and the
cries of dying men. And still the ships came onward, forgetting where
they were, heaving too much iron to have thought of heaving lead, ready
to be shipwrecks, if they could but wreck the enemy.
Between the bulky curls of smoke could be seen the scars of furious
battle, splintered masts and shivered yards, tattered sails and yawning
bulwarks, and great gaps even of the solid side; and above the ruck of
smoke appeared the tricolor flag upon the right hand and the left, and
the Union-jack in the middle.
"She've a'got more than she can do, I reckon," said an old man famous in
the lobster line; "other a one of they is as big as she be, and two to
one seemeth onfair odds. Wish her well out of it--that's all as can be
done."
"Kelks, you're a fool," replied the ancient navyman, steadying his
spy-glass upon a ledge of rock. "In my time we made very little of that;
and the breed may be slacked off a little, but not quite so bad as that
would be. Ah! you should a' heard what old Keppel--on the twenty-seventh
day of July it was, in the year of our Lord 1778. Talk about Nelson! to
my mind old Keppel could have boxed his compass backward.


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