“Furnace, there! Five more shot!”
It took Bush a moment or two to see the point of that order. But clearly it was inadvisable to have hot shot and powder charges brought up on the platform at the same time; the gun that had been fired would have to remain unloaded until the other five had fired as well. Hornblower came down and stood at Bush’s side again.
“I couldn’t understand yesterday why they always fired salvos at us, sir,” he said, “that reduced the rate of fire to the speed of the slowest gun. But I see now.”
“So do I,” said Bush.
“All your wet wads in?” demanded Hornblower of the guns’ crews. “Certain? Carry on, then.”
The shot were coaxed into the muzzles of the guns; they hissed and spluttered against the wads.
“Run up. Now take your aim. Make sure of it, captains.”
The hissing and spluttering continued as the guns were trained.
“Fire when your gun bears!”
Hornblower was up on the parapet again; Bush could see perfectly well through the embrasure of the idle gun. The five guns all fired within a second or two of each other; through Bush’s telescope the sky was streaked by the passage of their shot.