16 The Wine-Dark Sea - Libro della tutto

Patrick O'Brian The Wine-Dark Sea
damned near-run thing. He had the wheel
under his hands, easing her very gently to the
rise of each swell, urging her a trifle and still
another trifle to windward, to the thin lane at
the cliff's very foot itself. Not two cables now,
and they were running at eight knots. There
was no turning back.
'Sir,' said Wilkins again, 'the frigate ports her
helm.' Again Jack nodded. She had been to
the leeward of the Surprise from the beginning:
now she had no chance whatsoever of
weathering the point and she meant to hit the
Surprise as hard as ever she could, crippling
her before she was out of reach. He
shrugged: his course was wholly committed
now, and again he eased the helm, his eyes
as intent upon the lane of green water as they
might have been on a tall hedge with God
knows what beyond, and he galloping towards
it. He was aware of the whiter surf rising on