He seemed embarrassed now as he slipped his arm under her and quietly hoisted her to her feet. Around them the militiamen were again returning to work on the disabled cannon. "I don't know whether to thank you, Katy, or order you clapped in the brig for coming here in the first place. But either way, you can't stay. So kindly wait up the hill till . . ."
The sound of a forceful hammer stroke followed by a clear ring produced a cheer from the group of men who had been diligently hammering on one of the spiked cannon.
"Got her cleared, Yor Worship," one of the militiamen yelled toward Winston. "Fit as the day she was cast."
He abruptly turned and headed through the crowd to inspect the breech of the gun. After scrutinizing the reopened touch hole, he motioned toward a waiting gunner. "Ladle in about five pounds of powder and see how she fires."
Tom Canninge called from the other end of the breastwork, "I've got the altitude about set on this little nine-pounder, Cap'n. It's the best of the lot."
"Then see if you can't put a round through her portside gun deck." His voice was increasingly strained.
"Good as done." Canninge ordered the demi-culverin shifted a few degrees to the left, then motioned for a linstock and lightly applied the burning end to the touch hole.
The gun roared and kicked backward in a cloud of dense, oily smoke. While the men squinted against the sun to watch, a large hole splintered open along the portside bow of the Marsten Moor, just above the waterline. Moments later a mate in the maintop began to unfurl tops'ls, and after that the mainsail dropped in preparation to make for open sea.
"Let's give her a sendoff, masters." Winston led the cheers, and Katherine realized he was deliberately trying to boost morale. Next he yelled down the sweating line of men. "Hear me, now. Our good master Canninge has just earned us all a tot of kill-devil. By chance I think a keg may have arrived this morning, on a cart that found its way up from Bridgetown. We should take a look up by that large tree on the left." He paused and waited for the hoorahs to subside. "Under my command, the men always drink first, then officers." He waved a dismissal. "As you will, masters."
As the gunners and militiamen threw down their tools and began to bustle in the direction of the liquor, he turned to Katherine and his voice dropped. "Now that we're both still