Against All Flags Page #7

Let me have that.

It's a British man-of-war.

She's a fool, she is.

She'll end up like

the other ships

that tried to come in,

at the bottom of the sea.

So that's why Hawke was

putting out in the longboat.

To meet the man-of-war and give

her the plans of the fortifications.

If that was the idea,

we'll put a quick stop to it.

Let her come in now, without

knowing where our cannon be,

and the crabs will

feed on her, too. Hurry!

Rot my guts! The cannons are blowing up.

Hawke did his

work well, Morris.

Prepare for broadside

at harbor ships.

Prepare for broadside

at harbor ships!

Point.

Point!

Fire.

Fire!

Well, the end's in sight

for us here.

We'll all be taken off

as prisoners.

No one's taking

I'm putting off

for Venice or Genoa.

Will you come

with me, lass?

I don't care where I go

or what happens to me.

But with that man-of-war in the

harbor, how can we go anywhere?

Leave it to me, lass.

Bring the MacGregor

woman here!

She'll take a message

to the British man-of-war.

Prepare to put over side.

Abdullah, get a move on.

Lower the boat!

Haul in those bowlines.

All right!

Stand by to come about.

All hands stand by!

Lower the boat.

Easy there. Easy now.

Blast my guts,

get a move on.

Longboat approaching

with passenger.

Confound me! But do

you believe that this...

What's his name?

This fellow would really

hang the Princess?

Aye, Sir Cloudsley.

will hang her

at the sound of

your first gun.

Ma'am, that would mean the massacre

of every Englishman in India.

The pirate's signaling for

an answer, Sir Cloudsley.

Give him none.

Prepare to broadside. But we'll hold

all fire until I give the command.

Aye, aye, sir.

Prepare a broadside!

Give him a hand, Jorge.

It's been too long since they

picked up Miss MacGregor's boat.

Why don't they answer?

If we wait any longer,

we'll lose the tide.

We're going

through anyway.

Where's my glass,

Morris?

Have I forgotten

the infernal thing again?

Take mine, sir.

Gad, sir.

He's using the Princess

as a shield.

That scoundrel means

to run by us.

Hold your course,

blast you.

Steady.

Steady as she goes.

Well, my lass, in a

minute it'll be to Genoa

or the devil for us.

What did I tell you?

Now it's to Genoa for us

and the devil with them.

I outwitted them,

I did.

Sailed by with every

gun brought to bear

and them afraid

to fire a shot.

This is a moment

I'll not forget.

Nor will they.

Here, my lass.

Let's drink to your

future and mine, huh?

Although, from now on, they'll

both be one and the same.

Here.

Again.

Not now.

Well, it's just

you and me now, me lass.

Just you and me.

We'll live like

a king and a queen.

You're a smart one, Spitfire,

for casting your lot with me.

Or would you rather it was

Hawke you were sailing with?

Blast you!

You mention his name again, and

I'll run you through. I hate him!

Hate him worse than the lowest

viper that ever crawled...

But then he's dead.

So why talk about him?

A hate such as that is usually

held for someone we fancied

with every bone

on our body.

Any feeling

I had for him

died when I found him trying

to steal the Indian Princess.

Oh, then prove it.

I will when I feel like it,

and not until then.

I'm tired of waiting

till you have the fancy.

For once let it be

when I have the fancy.

There's time enough for that

when we get to Genoa.

Genoa is still

a long ways off.

A man's blood would have

to be full of bilge water

to be with you for the weeks

to come and keep his distance.

I've done my waiting.

Blast and curse me...

So you couldn't get him

out of your skin, huh?

No man has ever

struck me and lived.

No woman's ever

betrayed me and lived.

Take her below!

Sir, I envy you.

I really...

Again!

I beg your pardon?

Again.

I'll give you

the Kohinoor

and an elephant with

an ivory howdah. No, no.

And a peacock with ruby...

What is she talking about?

Miss MacGregor,

please.

And a beautiful...

In front of

the British Navy!

Sweet child.

As you were saying, sir.

I envy you.

What the merry old Mogul,

what the government will do

for you for saving the Princess.

Poor girl.

Yes, as a matter of fact,

Sir Cloudsley,

you're in a position to do more

for me than both the government

and the Grand Mogul

put together.

My word, Hawke,

just how?

By forgetting about

Mistress Stevens.

Well, well,

so that's how it is, eh?

Young once myself,

you know.

Where is that

infernal snuffbox?

Take mine,

Sir Cloudsley.

Thank you, Morris.

Thank you.

Forget about her,

you said.

Wouldn't surprise me

if I did.

Putrid memory,

you know, Hawke.

Forgot to put my blasted

breeches on for dress parade once.

Thank you, Morris.

Thank you, sir.

Mistress Stevens,

appearances are sometimes

a little difficult to explain.

But...

Again.

Again!

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