Oleander, as though she heard Kennedy’s entreaty, fell off on the port tack, but her momentum had taken her close to the town quay. The noise of the flogging mainsail had obviously been heard ashore, as there were shouts from the land. Snowden could not make out the words, but they did not appear to be hostile.
“Haven’t seen the ensign, though it’s plain as a pikestaff in this moonlight,” said Kennedy softly, and then as the shouts ashore grew in volume, Snowden heard the word ‘Anglais’.
“They have now,” he said. “Let’s keep ’em honest.”
The port Carron fired, immensely loud, sending grapeshot hissing into the water. The orange flash lit up the people on the quay ashore, who ran for cover, though they were safe enough, out of the gun’s range.
As the ship slowly gathered way, Kennedy looked at the privateer, black and sinister in the moonlight, judging distances.