“Better take the strain,” said Bush to Smith; and then, louder, down the hatchway, “Await my order, Mr. Hornblower.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
The men settled themselves at the capstan bars again, braced their feet, and heaved.
“Heave!” shouted Booth. “Heave!”
The men might be pushing at the side of a church, so little movement did they get from the bars after the first inch.
“Heave!”
Bush left them and ran below. He set his foot on the rigid cable and nodded to Hornblower. The fifteen guns—two had been dragged aft from the port side—were run out and ready, the crews awaiting orders.
“Captains, take your linstocks!” shouted Hornblower.
“All you others, stand clear! Now, I shall give you the words ‘one, two, three’. At ‘three’ you touch your linstocks down. Understand?”
There was a buzz of agreement.