Читать книгу Hornblower and the Crisis - Cecil Louis Troughton Smith - Страница 7

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It was less than half an hour after Hornblower returned to the Princess that Baddlestone got the news, passed from one auxiliary to another as they wallowed waiting for a wind.

‘Guilty,’ said Baddlestone, turning to Hornblower.

This was one of the moments when Hornblower was most in need of an appearance of stolidity while finding the greatest difficulty in attaining it.

‘What about the sentence?’ he asked. Tension gave his voice a grating sound which might be interpreted as harsh indifference.

‘Reprimand,’ said Baddlestone, and Hornblower felt the relief flooding into his vitals.

‘What kind of a reprimand?’

‘Just a reprimand.’

Not a severe reprimand, then. After a ‘guilty’ verdict it was the mildest sentence a court-martial could pronounce, save for mere admonishment. But with Hotspur lost every officer and warrant officer in the ship would have to apply for re-employment, and the powers that were might still have a word to say. Unless they were vindictive, however, there could be little danger to any of them except possibly Meadows. It was only then that Baddlestone doled out another fragment of information which earlier would have saved Hornblower anxiety.

‘They cleared the first lieutenant and the sailing master,’ he said; Hornblower kept his mouth shut, determined to give no hint of his feelings.

Baddlestone had the telescope to his eye and Hornblower followed his gaze. A ship’s longboat under two balance-lugs was running before the wind in their general direction; it took no more than a glance for Hornblower to identify her as belonging to a ship of the line, and as far as he could judge from her fore-shortened length she was of the largest size, belonging to a three decker, likely enough.

‘I’ll lay guineas to shillings,’ said Baddlestone, the telescope still clamped to his eye, ‘more company.’

Hornblower’s fingers fluttered with the yearning to use the telescope.

‘Yes,’ went on Baddlestone, retaining it with a cruelty possibly unconscious. ‘It looks like it.’

He turned to bellow orders for the hanging of fendoffs on the starboard side, and to bring the hoy to the wind to provide a slight lee on that side. Then there was no need for the telescope; Hornblower with the naked eye could recognise Bush sitting bare headed in the sternsheets, and then Meadows beside him. On the next thwart forward were the warrant officers of the late Hotspur, and forward beyond those was a jumble of figures he could not identify.

The longboat surged round into the wind and came neatly alongside.

‘Boat ahoy!’ hailed Baddlestone.

‘Party with warrants for passage,’ came Bush’s voice in reply. ‘We’re coming aboard.’

Baddlestone gobbled inarticulately for a second or two at this absence of a ‘by your leave’, but already the longboat had hooked on. At once it became obvious how violently the hoy rolled; the longboat was stable by comparison. There was a moment’s delay before Meadows hauled himself on to the hoy’s deck, and a further delay before Bush appeared behind him. Hornblower hurried forward to make them welcome; it was obvious that with the loss of the Hotspur her officers were being returned to England for other appointments, while presumably the crew had been distributed round the ships of the squadron.

It was only with an effort that Hornblower brought himself to address Meadows first.

‘Glad to see you again, Captain Meadows,’ he said. ‘And you too, Mr Bush.’

Bush had a half smile for him; Meadows not as much; he was under the shadow of a reprimand. Baddlestone watched the encounter with as much cynical amusement as his bulging red face could convey.

‘Perhaps you gentlemen will be good enough to show me your warrants,’ he said.

Bush thrust his hand into his breast pocket and produced a sheaf of papers.

‘Fourteen if you count them,’ he replied. ‘And these are ratings I’m not responsible for.’

‘You’ll be at pretty close quarters,’ said Baddlestone. ‘Cabin food a guinea a day, or you can compound for three guineas for the passage.’

Meadows entered into the conversation not with a word, but with a gesture. He turned a bleak gaze and looked behind him. The warrant officers had begun to arrive on deck, Prowse the master, Cargill and the other mates, Huffnell the purser, the boatswain and sailmaker and carpenter and cooper and cook. They were followed by a number of ratings, one of them—who seemed likely to be Meadows’ coxswain—turning to help another on board, the need for this becoming apparent when it was seen that this man had lost a hand at the wrist, presumably in one of the numerous shipboard accidents that eroded the crews of the blockading fleet. Several more men succeeded him; the reason for their return to England was not immediately apparent. Most of them were likely to be ruptured so badly as to rate discharge; possibly one or two others may have been illegally impressed and fortunate enough to have friends at home with sufficient influence to win their freedom. Altogether it was a large and formidable body of men mustered on the deck of the hoy, crowding it, while the longboat cast off and, with her lugsails hauled as flat as boards, set off on the long beat back to the flagship.

Baddlestone followed Meadows’ gaze and ran his eye over the crowd, and Meadows accentuated his earlier glance with a wave of his hand. Hornblower was reminded of the legendary captain of a ship of war who, when asked for his authority for some particular action, pointed to his guns and said ‘There!’

‘By the terms of your contract you victual ratings at sixpence a day,’ said Meadows. ‘This voyage you’ll victual officers at the same rate, and that’s all it’s worth.’

‘Is this piracy?’ exclaimed Baddlestone.

‘Call it anything you like,’ answered Meadows.

Baddlestone fell back a step or two, staring round him, to find no comfort in sea or sky, with the nearest ship some cables’ lengths away. Meadows’ expression was unchanging, bleak and lonely. Whatever had been the terms of the reprimand he had received he obviously felt it severely. Believing himself to be a man without a future he could well be careless about any possible charge of mutiny Baddlestone could bring against him. His officers were sheltered under his authority, while clearly they had lost all they possessed when Hotspur sank and were aware that by law they went on half-pay from that moment too. They could be dangerous men, and the ratings would obey them without hesitation. The Princess’s crew in addition to Baddlestone comprised a mate, a cook, four hands and a boy; the odds were overwhelming if there were no chance of appealing to higher authority, and Baddlestone realised it even though his words still conveyed defiance.

‘I’ll see you in the dock, Mr Captain Meadows,’ he said.

‘Captain Hornblower travels at the same rate,’ said Meadows imperturbably.

‘I’ve paid my three guineas,’ interposed Hornblower.

‘Better still. That’ll be—a hundred and twenty-six sixpences already paid. Am I right, Mr Baddlestone?’