csf.mrmidshipmanhornblower-第13部分

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　'I　understand；'　he　said。
　'Excellent！　Now　is　there　anything　further　you　may　need；　sir？
　Hornblower　looked　round　the　bare　quarters　in　which　he　was　to　suffer　lonely　confinement；　lit　by　a　dim　glimmer　of　light　from　a　swaying　slush　lamp。
　'Could　I　have　something　to　read？'　he　asked。
　Neuville　thought　for　a　moment。
　'I　fear　there　are　only　professional　books；'　he　said。　'But　I　can　let　you　have　Grandjean's　Principles　of　Navigation；　and　Lebrun's　Handbook　on　Seamanship　and　some　similar　volumes；　if　you　think　you　can　understand　the　French　in　which　they　are　written。'
　'I'll　try；'　said　Hornblower。
　Probably　it　was　as　well　that　Hornblower　was　provided　with　the　materials　for　such　strenuous　mental　exercise。　The　effort　of　reading　French　and　of　studying　his　profession　at　one　and　the　same　time　kept　his　mind　busy　during　the　dreary　days　while　the　Pique　cruised　in　search　of　prizes。　Most　of　the　time　the　Frenchmen　ignored　him…he　had　to　force　himself　upon　Neuville　once　to　protest　against　the　employment　of　his　four　British　seamen　on　the　menial　work　of　pumping　out　the　ship；　but　he　had　to　retire　worsted　from　the　argument；　if　argument　it　could　be　called；　when　Neuville　icily　refused　to　discuss　the　question。　Hornblower　went　back　to　his　quarters　with　burning　cheeks　and　red　ears；　and；　as　ever；　when　he　was　mentally　disturbed；　the　thought　of　his　guilt　returned　to　him　with　new　force。
　If　only　he　had　plugged　that　shot…hole　sooner！　A　clearer…headed　officer；　he　told　himself；　would　have　done　so。　He　had　lost　his　ship；　the　Indefatigable's　precious　prize；　and　there　was　no　health　in　him。　Sometimes　he　made　himself　review　the　situation　calmly。　Professionally；　he　might　not…probably　would　not…suffer　for　his　negligence。　A　midshipman　with　only　four　for　a　prize…crew；　put　on　board　a　two…hundred…ton　brig　that　had　been　subjected　to　considerable　taring　from　a　frigate's　guns；　would　not　be　seriously　blamed　when　she　sank　under　him。　But　Hornblower　knew　at　the　same　time　that　he　was　at　least　partly　at　fault。　If　it　was　ignorance…there　was　no　excuse　for　ignorance。　If　he　had　allowed　his　multiple　cares　to　distract　him　from　the　business　of　plugging　the　shot…hole　immediately；　that　was　inpetence；　and　there　was　no　excuse　for　inpetence。　When　he　thought　along　those　lines　he　was　overwhelmed　by　waves　of　despair　and　of　self…contempt；　and　there　was　no　one　to　fort　him。　The　day　of　his　birthday；　when　he　looked　at　himself　at　the　vast　age　of　eighteen；　was　the　worst　of　all。　Eighteen　and　a　discredited　prisoner　in　the　hands　of　a　French　privateersman！　His　self…respect　was　at　its　lowest　ebb。
　The　Pique　was　seeking　her　prey　in　the　most　frequented　waters　in　the　world；　the　approaches　to　the　Channel；　and　there　could　be　no　more　vivid　demonstration　of　the　vastness　of　the　ocean　than　the　fact　that　she　cruised　day　after　day　without　glimpsing　a　sail。　She　maintained　a　triangular　course；　reaching　to　the　north…west；　tacking　to　the　south；　running　under　easy　sail　north…easterly　again；　with　lookouts　at　every　masthead；　with　nothing　to　see　but　the　tossing　waste　of　water。　Until　the　morning　when　a　high…pitched　yell　from　the　foretopgallant　masthead　attracted　the　attention　of　everybody　on　deck；　including　Hornblower；　standing　lonely　in　the　waist。　Neuville；　by　the　wheel；　bellowed　a　question　to　the　lookout；　and　Hornblower；　thanks　to　his　recent　studies；　could　translate　the　answer。　There　was　a　sail　visible　to　windward；　and　next　moment　the　lookout　reported　that　it　had　altered　course　and　was　running　down　towards　them。
　That　meant　a　great　deal。　In　wartime　any　merchant　ship　would　be　suspicious　of　strangers　and　would　give　them　as　wide　a　berth　as　possible；　and　especially　when　she　was　to　windward　and　therefore　far　safer。　Only　someone　prepared　to　fight　or　possessed　of　a　perfectly　morbid　curiosity　would　abandon　a　windward　position。　A　wild　and　unreasonable　hope　filled　Hornblower's　breast；　a　ship　of　war　at　sea…thanks　to　England's　maritime　mastery…would　be　far　more　probably　English　than　French。　And　this　was　the　cruising　ground　of　the　Indefatigable；　his　own　ship；　stationed　there　specially　to　fulfil　the　double　function　of　looking　out　for　French　merce…destroyers　and　intercepting　French　blockade…runners。　A　hundred　miles　from　here　she　had　put　him　and　his　prize　crew　on　board　the　Marie　Galante。　It　was　a　thousand　to　one；　he　exaggerated　despairingly　to　himself；　against　any　ship　sighted　being　the　Indefatigable。　But…hope　reasserted　itself…the　fact　that　she　was　ing　down　to　investigate　reduced　the　odds　to　ten　to　one　at　most。　Less　than　ten　to　one。
　He　looked　over　at　Neuville；　trying　to　think　his　thoughts。　The　Pique　was　fast　and　handy；　and　there　was　a　clear　avenue　of　escape　to　leeward。　The　fact　that　the　stranger　had　altered　course　towards　them　was　a　suspicious　circumstance；　but　it　was　known　that　Indiamen；　the　richest　prizes　of　all；　had　sometimes　traded　on　the　similarity　of　their　appearance　to　that　of　ships　of　the　line；　and　by　showing　a　bold　front　had　scared　dangerous　enemies　away。　That　would　be　a　temptation　to　a　man　eager　to　make　a　prize。　At　Neuville's　orders　all　sail　was　set；　ready　for　instant　flight　or　pursuit；　and；　close…hauled；　the　Pique　stood　towards　the　stranger。　It　was　not　long　before　Hornblower；　on　the　deck；　caught　a　glimpse　of　a　gleam　of　white；　like　a　tiny　grain　of　rice；　far　away　on　the　horizon　as　the　Pique　lifted　on　a　swell。　Here　came　Matthews；　red…faced　and　excited；　running　aft　to　Hornblower's　side。
　'That's　the　old　Indefatigable；　sir；'　he　said。　'I　swear　it！'　He　sprang　onto　the　rail；　holding　on　by　the　shrouds；　and　stared　under　his　hand。
　'Yes！　There　she　is；　sir！　She's　loosing　her　royals　now；　sir。　We'll　be　back　on　board　of　her　in　time　for　grog！'
　A　French　petty　officer　reached　up　and　dragged　Matthews　by　the　seat　of　his　trousers　from　his　perch；　and　with　a　blow　and　a　kick　drove　him　forward　again；　while　a　moment　later　Neuville　was　shouting　the　orders　that　wore　the　ship　round　to　head　away　directly　from　the　Indefatigable。　Neuville　beckoned　Hornblower　over　to　his　side。
　'Your　late　ship；　I　understand；　Mr　Hornblower？'
　'Yes。'
　'What　is　her　best　point　of　sailing？'
　Hornblower's　eyes　met　Neuville's。
　'Do　not　look　so　noble；'　said　Neuville；　smiling　with　thin　lips。　'I　could　undoubtedly　induce　you　to　give　me　the　information。　I　know　of　ways。　But　it　is　unnecessary；　fortunately　for　you。　There　is　no　ship　on　earth…especially　none　of　His　Britannic　Majesty's　clumsy　frigates…that　can　outsail　the　Pique　running　before　the　wind。　You　will　soon　see　that。'
　He　strolled　to　the　taffrail　and　looked　aft　long　and　earnestly　through　his　glass；　but　no　more　earnestly　than　did　Hornblower　with　his　naked　eye。
　'You　see？'　said　Neuville；　proffering　the　glass。
　Hornblower　took　it；　but　more　to　catch　a　closer　glimpse　of　his　ship　than　to　confirm　his　observations。　He　was　homesick；　desperately　homesick；　at　that　moment；　for　the　Indefatigable。　But　there　could　be　no　denying　that　she　was　being　left　fast　behind。　Her　topgallants　were　out　of　sight　again　now；　and　only　her　royals　were　visible。
　'Two　hours　and　we　shall　have　run　her　mastheads　under；'　said　Neuville；　taking　back　the　telescope　and　shutting　it　with　a　snap。
　He　left　Hornblower　standing　sorrowful　at　the　taffrail　while　he　turned　to　berate　the　helmsman　for　not　steering　a　steadier　course；　Hornblower　heard　the　explosive　words　without　listening　to　them；　the　wind　blowing　into　his　face　and　ruffling　his　hair　over　his　ears；　and　the　wake　of　the　ship's　passage　boiling　below　him。　So　might　Adam　have　looked　back　at　Eden；　Hornblower　remembered　the　stuffy　dark　midshipsmen's　berth；　the　smells　and　the　creakings；　the　bitter　cold　nights；　turning　out　in　response　to　the　call　for　all　hands；　the　weevilly　bread　and　the　wooden　beef；　and　he　yearned　for　them　all；　with　the　sick　feeling　of　hopeless　longing。　Liberty　was　vanishing　over　the　horizon。　Yet　it　was　not　these　personal　feelings　that　drove　him　below　in　search　of　action。　They　may　have　quickened　his　wits；　but　it　was　a　sense　of　duty　which　inspired　him。
　The　slave…deck　was　deserted；　as　usual；　with　all　hands　at　quarters。　Beyond　the　bulkhead　stood　his　cot　with　the　books　upon　it　and　the　slush　lamp　swaying　above　it。　There　was　nothing　there　to　give　him　any　inspiration。　There　was　another　locked　door　in　the　after　bulkhead。　That　opened　into　some　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　an