The Fox of France

Everyone was startled by the sudden loud noise, including Captain Morrel, who was about to cut the mooring ropes. They turned to see the British ship engulfed in a white mist.

"What's going on?" Morrel wondered.

However, he didn't slow down. He swiftly cut the ropes, and the fallen mast drifted away with the waves. The flying clipper regained some movement, albeit at a slower speed than before. Nevertheless, they were mobile, and that was all that mattered.

Morrel didn't care to know what had happened to the British ship. As long as they were in trouble, it was a good thing. The details could wait until they were out of the range of the British cannons.

The flying clipper slowly distanced itself from the British ship, which had not fired a single shot during this process. It also started slowing down rapidly, and the white mist that had surrounded it gradually dissipated. The ship's deck was partially destroyed, the masts were broken, and the wheels on either side of the ship had stopped turning. Though the British ship was still moving, it was purely due to inertia and the current's influence.

"What's wrong with that ship?" Leclerc asked.

"How should I know? Anyway, it's good news!" Morrel replied.

"What do we do now?"

"Let's wait and watch. Don't get too close," Morrel said. "Approaching might make us an easy target for their cannons. We've already been blessed by God once; I don't want to trouble Him again."

"Good point. But, if it weren't for the grace of God..."

Morrel quickly interrupted, "What nonsense are you spouting? Once we're off this ship, you must go to the church and apologize to God, seek His forgiveness. He forgave me, gave me a path to redemption."

"Amen!" Everyone chorused.

At this moment, the British ship gradually came to a halt, floating on the water like a dead fish.

"Hey, Captain, if we could tow that ship back, we'd make a fortune, and it would cover our losses," Leclerc suggested.

"Don't be hasty. Let's see what happens first, and then we'll decide," Captain Morrel said. "For now, it's dead in the water."

"Yes, we should be patient. My former captain used to say, before boarding another ship, we must first pray for repentance to the merciful God," one of the sailors chimed in.

"Very well, Louis, you can start praying to God sincerely, and then we'll lower the dinghy. You'll board that ship and capture them," Captain Morrel said.

"Okay... Captain... you're not sending me alone, are you? There might be..."

"Don't worry, my child, God is with you," Captain Morrel assured.

"But..."

"Stop worrying. You're the only one among us with this experience. Haven't you often said that you, armed with a cutlass, could conquer an entire ship from bow to stern? That ship just exploded, and most of the sailors on board are probably injured. And with God's protection, you'll be just fine. We all believe in you!" Leclerc added earnestly.

"Captain..."

"All right, enough talk. We've already strayed far from our course during the chase, and there won't be any other ships passing by here. They have no power now—I don't believe they can repair that mess. And their mast is broken. They're drifting with the current. But the current will only take them farther from land and our course. If we leave them like this, they'll be lost at sea, practically doomed. So, as long as they have a bit of sense left, we only need you to handle this."

"And what if they don't have sense?"

"Then you're in trouble. But that's precisely why we can only send you. Louis, if you dare to go, I'll give you twenty francs."

"Thirty francs!"

"Twenty, at most twenty! Any higher, and Leclerc will gladly go."

"Fine, twenty it is..."

As Leclerc had anticipated, the British ship had suffered extensive damage in the explosion. Their captain was scalded to death by the high-temperature steam, and about seven or eight of their sailors had died. The remaining dozens were injured to varying degrees. At least a third of them had such severe injuries that their ultimate fate might be a watery grave.

The British crew knew that, without propulsion, their survival depended on the French. So, they surrendered willingly, following the lead of a lieutenant on board the ship.

To ensure the safety of the French crew, the British crew voluntarily surrendered all their weapons, including firearms and small arms, under the supervision of the French sailors. The French crew boarded the British ship, carefully inspecting every nook and cranny to determine if the ship was salvageable.

Despite the considerable damage from the explosion, the ship's hull remained intact, and there was no sign of flooding. It seemed fairly likely that the ship could be towed back. Therefore, they bound those Englishmen who seemed likely to survive and returned them to the flying clipper. They were locked in the emptied cargo hold. The British ship was then secured with a cable and towed in the direction of France.

On their way back, Morrel and Leclerc took stock of their gains and losses.

"We lost all our cargo, according to the contract, we should... How many guns did the British ship have?" Morrel asked.

"Two 24-pounder cannons and four 12-pounder cannons."

"That's it?"

"The ship's two wheels took up a significant space, preventing the installation of more cannons. Additionally, the engine room and coal bunker occupied space, limiting how many big guns they could fit," Leclerc explained. "They probably thought they'd only have to deal with us, and we didn't even have any big guns. And those cannons are iron, not bronze. Think about how much more valuable they'd be if they were bronze."

Compared to bronze cannons, cast iron cannons were significantly cheaper.

"Let's not be greedy. God has already been very kind to us. Even without counting the cannons, just the ship's hull alone is enough to compensate for our losses. After all, the hull is intact, and with some repairs, it should be seaworthy. And there's the navigation records, as well as the technician with the burned leg; they should be worth a good sum of money. Speak to our doctor; make sure he does everything to save the technician's life, as his life might be quite valuable."

Under normal circumstances, it wouldn't take more than two days to sail from their current position back to Roscoff. However, due to the lost mast, the flying clipper's sail area had been significantly reduced, resulting in a loss of nearly a third of their propulsion. Moreover, they were towing a larger ship behind them. As a result, their speed had dropped to roughly a third of its original.

At this speed, if they encountered British patrol ships, they'd have no choice but to jettison their prize and make a run for it. Considering their lost mast, even without their captured ship, escaping from British patrol ships wouldn't be easy.

The waters between Roscoff and Ireland were frequently patrolled by British ships. After consulting with First Mate Leclerc, they decided to take a safer route, making a wide detour to Camaret.

However, this change in the route meant they would spend a longer time at sea. The flying clipper didn't carry many supplies because the voyage from Roscoff to Ireland wasn't long, and the clipper's speed meant there was no need to load too many provisions. Moreover, the cargo hold on the flying clipper was smaller than those on other ships of similar weight. So, carrying additional supplies meant sacrificing precious cargo space.

"As luck would have it, the British ship is steam-powered, requiring water for their boiler. Although their boiler exploded, there's still quite a bit of fresh water left on their ship. This should be sufficient for our return journey. But we're running short on other provisions."

"Let's ration everything, except for that British technician... what's his name?" Morrel inquired.

"His name is Anderson," Leclerc added.

"Right, except for Anderson, the other Englishmen will get half a loaf of bread every two days," Morrel stated. "Additionally, don't waste fresh water and food on the heavily wounded Englishmen. Our crew's provisions will also be halved. Anderson must survive; the steam engine on their ship is ruined, and perhaps the folks at the Military-Industrial Complex will be willing to pay us more for this technician."