csf.mrmidshipmanhornblower-第58章

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sening　gale。　Hornblower　saw　her　running　down　on　them；　a　glance　in　the　other　direction　showed　him　the　Galician　mountains；　faint　on　the　southern　horizon…warmth；　freedom　and　friendship　on　the　one　hand；　solitude　and　captivity　on　the　other。　Under　the　lee　of　the　frigate　the　boat　bobbed　and　heaved　fantastically；　many　inquisitive　faces　looked　down　on　them。　They　were　cold　and　cramped；　the　frigate　dropped　a　boat　and　a　couple　of　nimble　seamen　scrambled　on　board。　A　line　was　flung　from　the　frigate；　a　whip　lowered　a　breeches　ring　into　the　boat；　and　the　English　seamen　helped　the　Spaniards　one　by　one　into　the　breeches　and　held　them　steady　as　they　were　swung　up　to　the　frigate's　deck。
　'I　go　last；'　said　Hornblower　when　they　turned　to　him。　'I　am　a　King's　officer。'
　'Good　Lor'　lumme；'　said　the　seamen。
　'Send　the　body　up；　too；'　said　Hornblower。　'It　can　be　given　decent　burial。'
　The　stiff　corpse　was　grotesque　as　it　swayed　through　the　air。　The　Galician　captain　tried　to　dispute　with　Hornblower　the　honour　of　going　last；　but　Hornblower　would　not　be　argued　with。　Then　finally　the　seamen　helped　him　put　his　legs　into　the　breeches；　and　secured　him　with　a　line　round　his　waist。　Up　he　soared；　swaying　dizzily　with　the　roll　of　the　ship；　then　they　drew　him　in　to　the　deck；　lowering　and　shortening；　until　half　a　dozen　strong　arms　took　his　weight　and　laid　him　gently　on　the　deck。
　'There　you　are；　my　hearty；　safe　and　sound；'　said　a　bearded　seaman。
　'I　am　a　King's　officer；'　said　Hornblower。　'Where's　the　officer　of　the　watch？'
　Wearing　marvellous　dry　clothing；　Hornblower　found　himself　soon　drinking　hot　rum…and…water　in　the　cabin　of　Captain　George　Crome；　of　His　Majesty's　frigate　Syrtis。　Crome　was　a　thin　pale　man　with　a　depressed　expression；　but　Hornblower　knew　of　him　as　a　first…rate　officer。
　'These　Galicians　make　good　seamen；'　said　Crome。　'I　can't　press　them。　But　perhaps　a　few　will　volunteer　sooner　than　go　to　a　prison　hulk。'
　'Sir；'　said　Hornblower；　and　hesitated。　It　is　ill　for　a　junior　lieutenant　to　argue　with　a　post　captain。
　'Well？'
　'Those　men　came　to　sea　to　save　life。　They　are　not　liable　to　capture。'
　Crome's　cold　grey　eyes　became　actively　frosty…Hornblower　was　right　about　it　being　ill　for　a　junior　lieutenant　to　argue　with　a　post　captain。
　'Are　you　telling　me　my　duty；　sir？'　he　asked。
　'Good　heavens　no；　sir；'　said　Hornblower　hastily。　'It's　a　long　time　since　I　read　the　Admiralty　Instructions　and　I　expect　my　memory's　at　fault。'
　'Admiralty　Instructions；　eh？'　said　Crome；　in　a　slightly　different　tone　of　voice。
　'I　expect　I'm　wrong；　sir；'　said　Hornblower；　'but　I　seem　to　remember　the　same　instruction　applied　to　the　other　two…the　survivors。'
　Even　a　post　captain　could　only　contravene　Admiralty　Instructions　at　his　peril。
　'I'll　consider　it；'　said　Crome。
　'I　had　the　dead　man　sent　on　board；　sir；'　went　on　Hornblower；　'in　the　hope　that　perhaps　you　might　give　him　proper　burial。　Those　Galicians　risked　their　lives　to　save　him；　sir；　and　I　expect　they'd　be　gratified。''
　'A　Popish　burial？　I'll　give　orders　to　give　'em　a　free　hand。'
　'Thank　you；　sir；'　said　Hornblower。
　'And　now　as　regards　yourself。　You　say　you　hold　a　mission　as　lieutenant。　You　can　do　duty　in　this　ship　until　we　meet　the　admiral　again。　Then　he　can　decide。　I　haven't　heard　of　the　Indefatigable　paying　off；　and　legally　you　may　still　be　borne　on　her　books。'
　And　that　was　when　the　devil　came　to　tempt　Hornblower；　as　he　took　another　sip　of　hot　rum…and…water。　The　joy　of　being　in　a　King's　ship　again　was　so　keen　as　to　be　almost　painful。　To　taste　salt　beef　and　biscuit　again；　and　never　again　to　taste　beans　and　garbanzos。　To　have　a　ship's　deck　under　his　feet；　to　talk　English。　To　be　free…to　be　free！　There　was　precious　little　chance　of　ever　falling　again　into　Spanish　hands。　Hornblower　remembered　with　agonizing　clarity　the　flat　depression　of　captivity。　All　he　had　to　do　was　not　to　say　a　word。　He　had　only　to　keep　silence　for　a　day　or　two。　But　the　devil　did　not　tempt　him　long；　only　until　he　had　taken　his　next　sip　of　rumand…water。　Then　he　thrust　the　devil　behind　him　and　met　Crome's　eyes　again。
　'I'm　sorry；　sir；'　he　said。
　'What　for？'
　'I　am　here　on　parole。　I　gave　my　word　before　I　left　the　beach。'
　'You　did？　That　alters　the　case。　You　were　within　your　rights；　of　course。'
　The　giving　of　parole　by　captive　British　officers　was　so　usual　as　to　excite　no　ment。
　'It　was　in　the　usual　form；　I　suppose？'　went　on　Crome。　'That　you　would　make　no　attempt　to　escape？'
　'Yes；　sir。'
　'Then　what　do　you　decide　as　a　result？'
　Of　course　Crome　could　not　attempt　to　influence　a　gentleman's　decision　on　a　matter　as　personal　as　a　parole。
　'I　must　go　back；　sir；'　said　Hornblower；　'at　the　first　opportunity。'
　He　felt　the　sway　of　the　ship；　he　looked　round　the　homely　cabin；　and　his　heart　was　breaking。
　'You　can　at　least　dine　and　sleep　on　board　to…night；'　said　Crome。　'I'll　not　venture　inshore　again　until　the　wind　moderates。　I'll　send　you　to　Corunna　under　a　flag　of　truce　when　I　can。　And　I'll　see　what　the　Instructions　say　about　those　prisoners。'
　It　was　a　sunny　morning　when　the　sentry　at　Fort　San　Anton；　in　the　harbour　of　Corunna；　called　his　officer's　attention　to　the　fact　that　the　British　cruiser　off　the　headland　had　hove…to　out　of　gunshot　and　was　lowering　a　boat。　The　sentry's　responsibility　ended　there；　and　he　could　watch　idly　as　his　officer　observed　that　the　cutter；　running　smartly　in　under　sail；　was　flying　a　white　flag。　She　hove…to　within　musket　shot；　and　it　was　a　mild　surprise　to　the　sentry　when　in　reply　to　the　officer's　hail　someone　rose　up　in　the　boat　and　replied　in　unmistakable　Gallego　dialect。　Summoned　alongside　the　landing　slip；　the　cutter　put　ashore　ten　men　and　then　headed　out　again　to　the　frigate。　Nine　men　were　laughing　and　shouting；　the　tenth；　the　youngest；　walked　with　a　fixed　expression　on　his　face　with　never　a　sign　of　emotion…his　expression　did　not　change　even　when　the　others；　with　obvious　affection；　put　their　arms　round　his　shoulders。　No　one　ever　troubled　to　explain　to　the　sentry　who　the　imperturbable　young　man　was；　and　he　was　not　very　interested。　After　he　had　seen　the　group　shipped　off　across　Corunna　Bay　towards　Ferrol　he　quite　forgot　the　incident。
　
　It　was　almost　spring　when　a　Spanish　militia　officer　came　into　the　barracks　which　served　as　a　prison　for　officers　in　Ferrol。
　'Se？or　Hornblower？'　he　asked…at　least　Hornblower；　in　the　corner；　knew　that　was　what　he　was　trying　to　say。　He　was　used　to　the　way　Spaniards　mutilated　his　name。
　'Yes？'　he　said；　rising。
　'Would　you　please　e　with　me？　The　mandant　has　sent　me　for　you；　sir。'
　The　mandant　was　all　smiles。　He　held　a　despatch　in　his　hands。
　'This；　sir；'　he　said；　waving　it　at　Hornblower；　'is　a　personal　order。　It　is　countersigned　by　the　Duke　of　Fuentesauco；　Minister　of　Marine；　but　it　is　signed　by　the　First　Minister；　Prince　of　the　Peace　and　Duke　of　Alcudia。'
　'Yes；　sir；'　said　Hornblower。
　He　should　have　begun　to　hope　at　that　moment；　but　there　es　a　time　in　a　prisoner's　life　when　he　ceases　to　hope。　He　was　more　interested；　even；　in　that　strange　title　of　Prince　of　the　Peace　which　was　now　beginning　to　be　heard　in　Spain。
　'It　says：　〃We；　Carlos　Leonardo　Luis　Manuel　de　Godoy　y　Boegas；　First　Minister　of　His　Most　Catholic　Majesty；　Prince　of　the　Peace；　Duke　of　Alcudia　and　Grandee　of　the　First　Class；　Count　of　Alcudia；　Knight　of　the　Most　Sacred　Order　of　the　Golden　Fleece；　Knight　of　the　Holy　Order　of　Santiago；　Knight　of　the　Most　Distinguished　Order　of　Calatrava；　Captain　General　of　His　Most　Catholic　Majesty's　forces　by　Land　and　Sea；　Colonel　General　of　the　Guardia　de　Corps；　Admiral　of　the　Two　Oceans；　General　of　the　cavalry；　of　the　infantry；　and　of　the　artillery〃…in　any　event；　sir；　it　is　an　order　to　me　to　take　immediate　steps　to　set　you　at　liberty。　I　am　to　restore　you　under　flag　of　truce　to　your　fellow　countrymen；　in　recognition　of　〃your　courage　and　self…sacrifice　in　saving　life　at　the　peril　of　your　own〃。'
　'Thank　you；　sir；'　said　Hornblower。
　
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