csf.thecommodore-第7部分

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　〃I　hope　I　shall　last　out；〃　said　Hornblower；　he　tried　to　grin　a　brave　reluctant　grin；　and　although　he　was　no　actor　Barbara's　wits　were　sufficiently　dulled　not　to　see　through　him。　Hornblower's　conscience　pricked　him　when　he　saw　that　this　stolid　mock…heroism　of　his　was　making　her　fonder　of　him　than　ever。　Her　eyes　were　soft　for　him。
　〃Stand　by　to　go　about！〃　bellowed　the　captain　of　the　lugger；　and　Hornblower　looked　up　in　surprise　to　see　that　they　were　close　up　under　the　stern　of　the　Nonsuch。　She　had　some　canvas　showing　forward　and　her　mizzen…topsail　backed　so　as　to　set　her　across　the　wind　a　trifle　and　give　the　lugger　a　lee　on　her　starboard　side。　Hornblower　flung　back　his　boat　cloak　and　stood　clear　so　that　he　could　be　seen　from　the　quarter…deck　of　the　Nonsuch；　for　Bush's　sake；　if　for　no　other　reason；　he　did　not　want　to　e　on　board　without　due　warning。　Then　he　turned　to　Barbara。
　〃It's　time　to　say　good…bye；　dear；〃　he　said。
　Her　face　was　without　expression；　like　that　of　a　marine　under　inspection。
　〃Good…bye；　dearest！〃　she　said。　Her　lips　were　cold；　and　she　did　not　incline　towards　him　to　offer　them；　but　stood　stiffly　upright。　It　was　like　kissing　a　marble　statue。　Then　she　melted　suddenly。　〃I'll　cherish　Richard；　darling。　Our　child。〃
　Barbara　could　have　said　nothing　to　endear　her　more　to　Hornblower。　He　crushed　her　hands　in　his。
　The　lugger　came　up　into　the　wind；　her　canvas　volleying；　and　then　she　shot　into　the　two…decker's　lee。　Hornblower　glanced　up；　there　was　a　bos'un's　chair　dangling　ready　to　lower　to　the　lugger。
　〃Belay　that　chair！〃　he　yelled；　and　then　to　the　captain；　〃Lay　us　alongside。〃
　Hornblower　had　no　intention　of　being　swung　up　to　the　deck　in　a　bos'un's　chair；　it　was　too　undignified　a　way　of　taking　up　his　new　mand　to　be　swung　aboard　legs　dangling。　The　lugger　surged　beside　the　big　ship；　the　painted　ports　were　level　with　his　shoulder；　and　beneath　him　boiled　the　green　water　confined　between　the　two　vessels。　This　was　a　nervous　moment。　If　he　were　to　miss　his　footing　and　fall　into　the　sea　so　that　he　would　have　to　be　hauled　in　wet　and　dripping　it　would　be　far　more　undignified　than　any　entrance　in　a　bos'un's　chair。　He　let　fall　his　cloak；　pulled　his　hat　firmly　on　to　his　head；　and　hitched　his　sword　round　out　of　his　way。　Then　he　leaped　across　the　yard…wide　gap；　scrambling　upwards　the　moment　fingers　and　toes　made　contact。　It　was　only　the　first　three　feet　which　were　difficult；　after　that　the　tumble…home　of　the　Nonsuch's　side　made　it　easy。　He　was　even　able　to　pause　to　collect　himself　before　making　the　final　ascent　to　the　entry…port　and　to　step　down　to　the　deck　with　all　the　dignity　to　be　expected　of　a　modore。
　Professionally　speaking；　this　was　the　highest　moment　of　his　career　up　to　now。　As　a　captain　he　had　grown　accustomed　to　a　captain's　honours；　the　bos'un's　mates　twittering　on　their　pipes；　the　four　side…boys　and　the　marine　sentries。　But　now　he　was　a　modore　taking　up　his　mand；　there　were　six　side…boys　with　their　white　gloves；　there　was　the　whole　marine　guard　and　the　marine　band；　a　long　double　lane　of　bos'un's　mates　with　their　pipes；　and　at　the　end　of　the　lane　a　crowd　of　officers　in　full　dress。　As　he　set　his　foot　on　the　deck　the　drums　beat　a　ruffle　in　petition　with　the　bos'un's　calls；　and　then　the　fifes　of　the　band　struck　up　'Heart　of　oak　are　our　ships；　Jolly　tars　are　our　men　…'　With　his　hand　at　the　salute　Hornblower　strode　up　the　lane　of　bos'un's　mates　and　side…boys；　all　this　was　peculiarly　exhilarating　despite　his　efforts　to　tell　himself　that　these　outward　signs　of　the　dignity　of　his　position　were　mere　childish　baubles。　He　had　to　check　himself；　or　his　face　would　have　borne　a　stupid　ecstatic　grin；　it　was　with　difficulty　that　he　forced　himself　to　assume　the　stern　posure　a　modore　should　display。　There　was　Bush　at　the　end　of　the　lane；　saluting　stiffly；　and　standing　effortlessly　despite　his　wooden　leg；　and　it　was　so　pleasant　to　see　Bush　that　he　had　to　fight　down　his　grin　all　over　again。
　〃Good　morning；　Captain　Bush；〃　he　said；　as　gruffly　as　he　knew　how；　and　offering　his　hand　with　all　he　could　manage　of　formal　cordiality。
　〃Good　morning；　sir。〃
　Bush　brought　down　his　hand　from　the　salute　and　grasped　Hornblower's；　trying　hard　to　act　his　part；　as　if　there　was　no　friendship　in　this　handshake　but　mere　professional　esteem。　Hornblower　noted　that　his　hand　was　as　hard　as　ever　…　promotion　to　captain's　rank　had　not　softened　it。　And　try　as　he　would　Bush　could　not　keep　his　face　expressionless。　The　blue　eyes　were　alight　with　pleasure；　and　the　craggy　features　kept　softening　into　a　smile　as　they　escaped　from　his　control。　It　made　it　harder　than　ever　for　Hornblower　to　remain　dignified。
　Out　of　the　tail　of　his　eye　Hornblower　saw　a　seaman　hauling　briskly　at　the　main　signal　halyards。　A　black　ball　was　soaring　up　the　mast；　and　as　it　reached　the　block　a　twitch　of　the　seaman's　wrist　broke　it　out。　It　was　the　modore's　broad　pendant；　hoisted　to　distinguish　the　ship　he　was　in；　and　as　the　pendant　broke　out　a　puff　of　smoke　forward　and　a　loud　bang　marked　the　first　gun　of　the　salute　which　weled　it。　This　was　the　highest；　the　greatest　moment　of　all　…　thousands　upon　thousands　of　naval　officers　could　serve　all　their　lives　and　never　have　a　distinguishing　pendant　hoisted　for　them；　never　hear　a　single　gun　fired　in　their　honour。　Hornblower　could　not　help　smiling　now。　His　last　reserve　was　broken　down；　he　met　Bush's　eye　and　he　laughed　outright；　and　Bush　laughed　with　him。　They　were　like　a　pair　of　schoolboys　exulting　over　a　successful　bit　of　mischief。　It　was　extraordinarily　pleasant　to　be　aware　that　Bush　was　not　only　pleased　at　serving　with　him　again；　but　was　also　pleased　just　because　Hornblower　was　pleased。
　Bush　glanced　over　the　port…side　rail；　and　Hornblower　looked　across　with　him。　There　was　the　rest　of　the　squadron；　the　two　ugly　bomb…ketches；　the　two　big　ship…rigged　sloops；　and　the　graceful　little　cutter。　There　were　puffs　of　smoke　showing　at　the　sides　of　each　of　them；　blown　to　nothingness　almost　instantly　by　the　wind；　and　then　the　boom　of　the　shots　as　each　ship　saluted　the　pendant；　firing　gun　for　gun；　taking　the　time　from　the　modore。　Bush's　eyes　narrowed　as　he　looked　them　over；　observing　whether　everything　was　being　done　decently　and　in　order；　but　his　face　lapsed　into　a　grin　again　as　soon　as　he　was　sure。　The　last　shot　of　the　salute　was　fired；　eleven　rounds　from　each　ship。　It　was　interesting　to　work　out　that　the　mere　ceremony　of　hoisting　his　pendant　had　cost　his　country　fifty　pounds　or　so；　at　a　time　when　she　was　fighting　for　her　life　against　a　tyrant　who　dominated　all　Europe。　The　twitter　of　the　pipes　brought　the　ceremony　to　an　end；　the　ship's　pany　took　up　their　duties　again；　and　the　marines　sloped　arms　and　marched　off；　their　boots　sounding　loud　on　the　deck。
　〃A　happy　moment；　Bush；〃　said　Hornblower。
　〃A　happy　moment　indeed；　sir。〃
　There　were　presentations　to　be　made；　Bush　brought　forward　the　ship's　officers　one　by　one。　At　this　first　sight　one　face　was　like　another；　but　Hornblower　knew　that　in　a　short　period　of　crowded　living　each　individual　would　bee　distinct；　his　peculiarities　known　to　the　limit　of　boredom。
　〃We　shall　e　to　know　each　other　better；　I　hope；　gentlemen；〃　said　Hornblower；　phrasing　his　thought　politely。
　A　whip　at　the　main　yard…arm　was　bringing　up　his　baggage　from　the　lugger；　with　Brown　standing　by　to　supervise　…　he　must　have　e　on　board　by　an　unobtrusive　route；　through　a　gun…port　presumably。　So　the　lugger　and　Barbara　must　still　be　alongside。　Hornblower　walked　to　the　rail　and　peered　over。　True　enough。　And　Barbara　was　standing　just　as　he　had　left　her；　still；　like　a　statue。　But　that　must　have　been　the　last　parcel　swung　up　by　the　ship；　Hornblower　had　hardly　reached　the　side　when　the　lugger　cast　off　from　the　Nonsuch's　chains；　hoisted　her　big　mainsail　and　wheeled　away　as　effortlessly　as　a　gull。
　〃Captain　Bush；〃　said　Hornblower；　〃we　shall　get　under　way　immediately；　if　you　please。　Make　a　signal　to　the　flotilla　to　that　effect。〃
　
　CHAPTER　FIVE
　
　〃I'll　put　the　pistols　in　this　locker；　sir；〃　said　Brown；　pleting　the　unpacking。
　〃Pistols？〃　said　Hornblower。
　Brown　brought　the　case　over　to　him；　he　had　only　mentioned　them　because　he　knew　that　Hornblower　was　not　aware　of　the　pistols'　existence。　It　was　a　beautiful　mahogany　case；　velvet…lined；　the　first　thing　to　catch　the　eye　inside　was　a　white　card。　It　bore　some　words　in　Barbara's　handwriting　…　'To　my　dear　husband。　May　he　never　need　to　use　them；　but　if　he　must　then　may　they　serve　him　well；　and　at　least　may　they　remind　him　of　his　loving　wife；　who　will　pray　every　day　for　his　safety；　for　his　happiness；　and　for　his　success。'　Hornblower　read　the　words　twice　before　he　put　the　card　down　to　examine　the　pistols。　They　were　beautiful　weapons；　of　bright　steel　inlaid　with　silver；　double…barrelled；　the　butts　of　ebony；　giving　them　perfect　balance　in　the　hand。　There　were　two　copper　tubes　in　the　case　to　open　next；　they　merely　contained　pistol　bullets；　each　one　cast　flawlessly；　a　perfect　sphere。　The　fact　that　the　makers　had　gone　to　the　trouble　of　casting　special　bullets　and　including　them　in　the　case　recalled　Hornblower's　attention　to　the　pistols。　Inside　the　barrels　were　bright　spiral　lanes；　they　were　rifled　pistols；　then。　The　next　copper　box　in　the　case　contained　a　number　of　discs　of　thin　leather　impregnated　with　oil；　these　would　be　for　wrapping　up　the　bullet　before　inserting　it　into　the　barrel；　so　as　to　ensure　a　perfect　fit。　The　brass　rod　and　the　little　brass　mallet　would　be　for　hammering　the　bullets　home。　The　little　brass　cup　must　be　a　measure　of　the　powder　charge。　It　was　small；　but　that　was　the　way　to　ensure　accuracy　…　a　small　powder　charge；　a　heavy　ball；　and　a　true　barrel。　With　these　pistols　he　could　rely　on　himself　to　hit　a　small　bull's…eye　at　fifty　yards；　as　long　as　he　held　true。
　But　there　was　one　more　copper　box　to　open。　It　was　full　of　little　square　bits　of　copper　sheet；　very　thin　indeed。　He　was　puzzled　at　the　sight　of　them；　each　bit　of　copper　had　a　bulge　in　the　centre；　where　the　metal　was　especially　thin；　making　the　black　contents　just　visible　through　it。　It　dawned　slowly　upon　Hornblower　that　these　must　be　the　percussion　caps　he　had　heard　vaguely　about　recently。　To　prove　it　he　laid　one　on　his　desk　and　tapped　it　sharply　with　the　brass　mallet。　There　was　a　sharp　crack；　a　puff　of　smoke　from　under　the　mallet；　and　when　he　li