csf.mrmidshipmanhornblower-第17章
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e kind of boatswain's store； twice he had seen it unlocked and paint and similar supplies brought out from it。 Paint！ That gave him an idea； he looked from the door up to the slush lamp and back again； and as he stepped forward he took his claspknife out of his pocket。 But before very long he recoiled again； sneering at himself。 The door was not panelled； but was made of two solid slabs of wood； with the cross…beams on the inside。 There was the keyhole of the lock； but it presented no point of attack。 It would take him hours and hours to cut through that door with his knife； at a time when minutes were precious。
His heart was beating feverishly…but no more feverishly than his mind was working…as he looked round again。 He reached up to the lamp and shook it； nearly full。 There was a moment when he stood hesitating； nerving himself； and then he threw himself into action。 With a ruthless hand he tore the pages out of Grandjean's Principes de la Navigation； crumpling them up in small quantities into little loose balls which he laid at the foot of the door。 He threw off his uniform coat and dragged his blue woollen jersey over his head； his long powerful fingers tore it across and plucked eagerly at it to unravel it。 After starting some loose threads he would not waste more time on it； and dropped the garment onto the paper and looked round again。 The mattress of the cot！ It was stuffed with straw； by God！ A slash of his knife tore open the ticking； and he scooped the stuff out by the armful； constant pressure had almost solidified it； but he shook it and handled it so that it bulked out far larger in a mass on the deck nearly up to his waist。 That would give him the intense blaze he wanted。 He stood still； pelling himself to think clearly and logically…it was impetuosity and lack of thought which had occasioned the loss of the Marie Galante； and now he had wasted time on his jersey。 He worked out the successive steps to take。 He made a long spill out of a page of the Manuel de Matelotage； and lighted it at the lamp。 Then he poured out the grease…the lamp was hot and the grease liquid…over his balls of paper； over the deck； over the base of the door。 A touch from his taper lighted one ball； the flame travelled quickly。 He was mitted now。 He piled the straw upon the flames； and in a sudden access of insane strength he tore the cot from its fastenings； smashing it as he did so； and piled the fragments on the straw。 Already the flames were racing through the straw。 He dropped the lamp upon the pile grabbed his coat and walked out。 He thought of closing the door； but decided against it…the more air the better。 He wriggled into his coat and ran up the ladder。
On deck he forced himself to lounge nonchalantly against the rail； putting his shaking hands into his pockets。 His excitement made him weak； nor was it lessened as he waited。 Every minute before the fire could be discovered was important。 A French officer said something to him with a triumphant laugh and pointed aft over the taffrail； presumably speaking about leaving the Indefatigable behind。 Hornblower smiled bleakly at him； that was the first gesture that occurred to him； and then he thought that a smile was out of place； and he tried to assume a sullen scowl。 The wind was blowing briskly； so that the Pique could only just carry all plain sail； Hornblower felt it on his cheeks； which were burning。 Everyone on deck seemed unnaturally busy and preoccupied； Neuville was watching the helmsman with occasional glances aloft to see that every sail was doing its work； the men were at the guns； two hands and a petty officer heaving the log。 God； how much longer would he have？
Look there！ The coaming of the after hatchway appeared distorted； wavering in the shimmering air。 Hot air must be ing up through it。 And was that； or was it not； the ghost of a wreath of smoke？ It was！ In that moment the alarm was given。 A loud cry； a rush of feet； an instant bustle； the loud beating of a drum； high…pitched shouts…'Au feu！ Au feu！'
The four elements of Aristotle； thought Hornblower insanely…earth； air； water； and fire…were the constant enemies of the seaman； but the lee shore； the gale； and the wave； were none of them as feared in wooden ships as fire。 Timbers many years old and coated thick with paint burnt fiercely and readily。 Sails and tarry rigging would burn like fireworks。 And within the ship were tons and tons of gunpowder waiting its chance to blast the seamen into fragments。 Hornblower watched the fire parties flinging themselves into their work； the pumps being dragged over the decks； the hoses rigged。 Someone came racing aft with a message for Neuville； presumably to report the site of the fire。 Neuville heard him； and darted a glance at Hornblower against the rail before he hurled orders back at the messenger。 The smoke ing up through the after hatchway was dense now； at Neuville's orders the after guard flung themselves down the opening through the smoke。 And there was more smoke； and more smoke； smoke caught up by the following wind and blown forward in wisps…smoke must be pouring out of the sides of the ship at the waterline。
Neuville took a stride towards Hornblower； his face working with rage； but a cry from the helmsman checked him。 The helmsman； unable to take his hands from the wheel； pointed with his foot to the cabin skylight。 There was a flickering of flame below it。 A side pane fell in as they watched； and a rush of flame came through the opening。 That store of paint； Hornblower calculated…he was calmer now； with a calm that would astonish him later； when he came to look back on it…must be immediately under the cabin； and blazing fiercely。 Melville looked round him； at the sea and the sky； and put his hands to his head in a furious gesture。 For the first time in his life Hornblower saw a man literally tearing his hair。 But his nerve held。 A shout brought up another portable pump； four men set to work on the handles； and the clank…clank； clank…clank made an acpaniment that blended with the roar of the fire。 A thin jet of water was squirted down the gaping skylight。 More men formed a bucket chain； drawing water from the sea and passing it from hand to hand to pour in the skylight； but those buckets of water were less effective ever than the stream from the pumps。 From below came the dull thud of an explosion； and Hornblower caught his breath as he expected the ship to be blown to pieces。 But no further explosion followed； either a gun had been set off by the flames or a cask had burst violently in the heat。 And then the bucket line suddenly disintegrated； beneath the feet of one of the men a seam had gaped in a broad red smile from which came a rush of flame。 Some officer had seized Neuville by the arm and was arguing with him vehemently； and Hornblower could see Neuville yield in despair。 Hands went scurrying aloft to get in the foretopsail and forecourse； and other hands went to the main braces。 Over went the wheel； and the Pique came up into the wind。
The change was dramatic； although at first more apparent than real； with the wind blowing in the opposite direction the roar of the fire did not e so clearly to the ears of those forward of it。 But it was an immense gain； all the same； the flames； which had started in the steerage in the farthest after…part of the ship； no longer were blown forward； but were turned back upon timber already half consumed。 Yet the after…part of the deck was fully alight； the helmsman was driven from the wheel； and in a flash the flames took hold of the driver and consumed it utterly…one moment the sail was there； and the next there were only charred fragments hanging from the gaff。 But； head to wind； the other sails did not catch； and a mizzen…trysail hurriedly set kept the ship bows on。
It was then that Hornblower； looking forward； saw the Indefatigable again。 She was tearing down towards them with all sail set； as the Pique lifted he could see the white bow wave foaming under her bowsprit。 There was no question about surrender； for under the menace of that row of guns no ship of the Pique's force； even if uninjured； could resist。 A cable's length to windward the Indefatigable rounded…to； and she was hoisting out her boats before e
