csf.mrmidshipmanhornblower-第53章

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　'Se？or　el　tenente　Espanol；'　he　said。　'Se？ora　la　Duquesa　de　Wharfedale。'
　The　title　clearly　had　its　effect；　the　lieutenant　bowed　profoundly；　and　his　bow　was　received　with　the　most　lofty　aloofness　by　the　duchess。　Hornblower　could　be　sure　the　despatches　were　safe。　That　was　some　alleviation　of　the　misery　of　standing　here　on　the　deck　of　his　water…logged　little　ship；　a　Prisoner　of　the　Spaniards。　As　he　waited　he　heard；　from　far　to　leeward；　roll　upon　roll　of　thunder　ing　up　against　the　wind。　No　thunder　could　endure　that　long。　What　he　could　hear　must　be　the　broadsides　of　ships　in　action…of　fleets　in　action。　Somewhere　over　there　by　Cape　St　Vincent　the　British　fleet　must　have　caught　the　Spaniards　at　last。　Fiercer　and　fiercer　sounded　the　roll　of　the　artillery。　There　was　excitement　among　the　Spaniards　who　had　scrambled　on　to　the　deck　of　Le　Rêve；　while　Hornblower　stood　bareheaded　waiting　to　be　taken　into　captivity。
　Captivity　was　a　dreadful　thing。　Once　the　numbness　had　worn　off　Hornblower　came　to　realize　what　a　dreadful　thing　it　was。　Not　even　the　news　of　the　dreadful　bartering　which　the　Spanish　navy　had　received　at　St　Vincent　could　relieve　the　misery　and　despair　of　being　a　prisoner。　It　was　not　the　physical　conditions…ten　square　feet　of　floor　space　per　man　in　an　empty　sail　loft　at　Ferrol　along　with　other　captive　warrant　officers…for　they　were　no　worse　than　what　a　junior　officer　often　had　to　put　up　with　at　sea。　It　was　the　loss　of　freedom；　the　fact　of　being　a　captive；　that　was　so　dreadful。
　There　were　four　months　of　it　before　the　first　letter　came　through　to　Hornblower；　the　Spanish　government；　inefficient　in　all　ways；　had　the　worst　postal　system　in　Europe。　But　here　was　the　letter；　addressed　and　re…addressed；　now　safely　in　his　hands　after　he　had　practically　snatched　it　from　a　stupid　Spanish　non…missioned　officer　who　had　been　puzzling　over　the　strange　name。　Hornblower　did　not　know　the　handwriting；　and　when　he　broke　the　seal　and　opened　the　letter　the　salutation　made　him　think　for　a　moment　that　he　had　opened　someone　else's　letter。
　'Darling　Boy；'　it　began。　Now　who　on　earth　would　call　him　that？　He　read　on　in　a　dream。
　
　'Darling　Boy；
　I　hope　it　will　give　you　happiness　to　hear　that　what　you　gave　me　has　reached　its　destination。　They　told　me；　when　I　delivered　it；　that　you　are　a　prisoner；　and　my　heart　bleeds　for　you。　And　they　told　me　too　that　they　were　pleased　with　you　for　what　you　had　done　And　one　of　those　admirals　is　a　shareholder　in　Drury　Lane。　Whoever　would　have　thought　of　such　a　thing？　But　he　smiled　at　me；　and　I　smiled　at　him。　I　did　not　know　he　was　a　shareholder　then；　and　I　only　smiled　out　of　the　kindness　of　my　heart。　And　all　that　I　told　him　about　my　dangers　and　perils　with　my　precious　burden　were　only　histrionic　exercises；　I　am　afraid。　Yet　he　believed　me；　and　so　struck　was　he　by　my　smile　and　my　adventures；　that　he　demanded　a　part　for　me　from　Sherry；　and　behold；　now　I　am　playing　second　lead；　usually　a　tragic　mother；　and　receiving　the　acclaim　of　the　groundlings。　There　are　pensations　in　growing　old；　which　I　am　discovering　too。　And　I　have　not　tasted　wine　since　I　saw　you　last；　nor　shall　I　ever　again。　As　one　more　reward；　my　admiral　promised　me　that　he　would　forward　this　letter　to　you　in　the　next　cartel…an　expression　which　no　doubt　means　more　to　you　than　to　me。　I　only　hope　that　it　reaches　you　in　good　time　and　brings　you　fort　in　your　affliction。
　I　pray　nightly　for　you。
　 Ever　your　devoted　friend；
　 Katharine　Cobham。'
　
　fort　in　his　affliction？　A　little；　perhaps。　There　was　some　fort　in　knowing　that　the　despatches　had　been　delivered；　there　was　some　fort　in　a　second…hand　report　that　Their　Lordships　were　pleased　with　him。　There　was　fort　even　in　knowing　that　the　duchess　was　re…established　on　the　stage。　But　the　sum　total　was　nothing　pared　with　his　misery。
　Here　was　a　guard　e　to　bring　him　to　the　mandant　and　beside　the　mandant　was　the　Irish　renegade　who　served　as　interpreter。　There　were　further　papers　on　the　mandant's　desk…it　looked　as　if　the　same　cartel　which　had　brought　in　Kitty　Cobham's　note　had　brought　in　letters　for　the　mandant。
　'Good　afternoon；　sir；'　said　the　mandant；　always　polite　offering　a　chair。
　'Good　afternoon；　sir；　and　many　thanks；'　said　Hornblower　He　was　learning　Spanish　slowly　and　painfully。
　'You　have　been　Promoted。'　said　the　Irishman　in　English
　'W…what？'　said　Hornblower。
　'Promoted；'　said　the　Irishman。　'Here　is　the　letter…〃The　Spanish　authorities　are　informed　that　on　account　of　his　meritorious　service　the　acting…mission　of　Mr　Horatio　Hornblower；　midshipman　and　acting…lieutenant；　has　been　confirmed。　Their　Lordships　of　the　Admiralty　express　their　confidence　that　Mr　Horatio　Hornblower　will　be　admitted　immediately　to　the　privileges　of　missioned　rank。〃　There　you　are；　young　man。'
　'My　felicitations；　sir；'　said　the　mandant。
　'Many　thanks；　sir；'　said　Hornblower。
　The　mandant　was　a　kindly　old　gentleman　with　a　pleasant　smile　for　the　awkward　young　man。　He　went　on　to　say　more；　but　Hornblower's　Spanish　was　not　equal　to　the　technicalities　he　used；　and　Hornblower　in　despair　looked　at　the　interpreter。
　'Now　that　you　are　a　missioned　officer；'　said　the　latter；　you　will　be　transferred　to　the　quarters　for　captured　officers。'
　'Thank　you；'　said　Hornblower。
　'You　will　receive　the　half　pay　of　your　rank。'
　'Thank　you。'
　'And　your　parole　will　be　accepted。　You　will　be　at　liberty　to　visit　in　the　town　and　the　neighbourhood　for　two　hours　each　day　on　giving　your　parole。'
　'Thank　you；'　said　Hornblower。
　Perhaps；　during　the　long　months　which　followed；　it　was　some　mitigation　of　his　unhappiness　that　for　two　hours　each　day　his　parole　gave　him　freedom；　freedom　to　wander　in　the　streets　of　the　little　town；　to　have　a　cup　of　chocolate　or　a　glass　of　wine…providing　he　had　any　money…making　polite　and　laborious　conversation　with　Spanish　soldiers　or　sailors　or　civilians。　But　it　was　better　to　spend　his　two　hours　wandering　over　the　goat　paths　of　the　headland　in　the　wind　and　the　sun；　in　the　panionship　of　the　sea；　which　might　alleviate　the　sick　misery　of　captivity。　There　was　slightly　better　food；　slightly　better　quarters。　And　there　was　the　knowledge　that　now　he　was　a　lieutenant；　that　he　held　the　King's　mission；　that　if　ever；　ever；　the　war　should　end　and　he　should　be　set　free　he　could　starve　on　half　pay…for　with　the　end　of　the　war　there　would　be　no　employment　for　junior　lieutenants。　But　he　had　earned　his　promotion。　He　had　gained　the　approval　of　authority；　that　was　something　to　think　about　on　his　solitary　walks。
　There　came　a　day　of　south…westerly　gales；　with　the　wind　shrieking　in　from　across　the　Atlantic。　Across　three　thousand　miles　of　water　it　came；　building　up　its　strength　unimpeded　on　its　way；　and　heaping　up　the　sea　into　racing　mountain　ridges　which　came　crashing　in　upon　the　Spanish　coast　in　thunder　and　spray。　Hornblower　stood　on　the　headland　above　Ferrol　harbour；　holding　his　worn　greatcoat　about　him　as　he　leaned　forward　into　the　wind　to　keep　his　footing。　So　powerful　was　the　wind　that　it　was　difficult　to　breathe　while　facing　it。　If　he　turned　his　back　he　could　breathe　more　easily；　but　then　the　wind　blew　his　wild　hair　forward　over　his　eyes；　almost　inverted　his　greatcoat　over　his　head；　and　furthermore　forced　him　into　little　tottering　steps　down　the　slope　towards　Ferrol；　whither　he　had　no　wish　to　return　at　present。　For　two　hours　he　was　alone　and　free；　and　those　two　hours　were　precious。　He　could　breathe　the　Atlantic　air；　he　could　walk；　he　could　do　as　he　liked　during　that　time。　He　could　stare　out　to　sea；　it　was　not　unusual　to　catch　sight；　from　the　headland；　of　some　British　ship　of　war　which　might　be　working　slowly　along　the　coast　in　the　hope　of　snapping　up　a　coasting　vessel　while　keeping　a　watchful　eye　upon　the　Spanish　naval　activity。　When　such　a　ship　went　by　during　Hornblower's　two　hours　of　freedom；　he　would　stand　and　gaze　at　it；　as　a　man　dying　of　thirst　might　gaze　at　a　bucket　of　water　held　beyond　his　reach；　he　would　note　all　the　little　details；　the　cut　of　the　topsails　and　the　style　of　the　paint；　while　misery　wrung　his　bowels。　For　this　was　the　end　of　his　second　year　as　a　prisoner　of　war。　For　twenty…two　months；　for　twenty…two　hours　every　day；　he　had　been　under　lock　and　key；　herded　with　five　other　junior　lieutenants　in　a　single　room　in　the　fort