csf.mrmidshipmanhornblower-第7部分

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　Keene　shifted　in　his　chair　again。
　'There　is　another　matter　I　wanted　to　take　up　with　you；　Mr　Hornblower。　Captain　Pellew　of　the　Indefatigable　has　room　for　another　midshipman。　Captain　Pellew　is　partial　to　a　game　of　whist；　and　has　no　good　fourth　on　board。　He　and　I　have　agreed　to　consider　favourably　your　application　for　a　transfer　should　you　care　to　make　one。　I　don't　have　to　point　out　that　any　ambitious　young　officer　would　jump　at　the　chance　of　serving　in　a　frigate。'
　'A　frigate！'　said　Hornblower。
　Everybody　knew　of　Pellew's　reputation　and　success。　Distinction；　promotion；　prize　money…an　officer　under　Pellew's　mand　could　hope　for　all　these。　petition　for　nomination　to　the　Indefatigable　must　be　intense；　and　this　was　the　chance　of　a　lifetime。　Hornblower　was　on　the　point　of　making　a　glad　acceptance；　when　further　considerations　restrained　him。
　'That　is　very　good　of　you；　sir；'　he　said　'I　do　not　know　how　to　thank　you。　But　you　accepted　me　as　a　midshipman　here；　and　of　course　I　must　stay　with　you。'
　The　drawn；　apprehensive　face　relaxed　into　a　smile。
　'Not　many　men　would　have　said　that；'　said　Keene。　'But　I　am　going　to　insist　on　your　accepting　the　offer。　I　shall　not　live　very　much　longer　to　appreciate　your　loyalty。　And　this　ship　is　not　the　place　for　you…this　ship　with　her　useless　captain…don't　interrupt　me…and　her　worn…out　first　lieutenant　and　her　old　midshipmen。　You　should　be　where　there　may　be　speedy　opportunities　of　advancement。　I　have　the　good　of　the　service　in　mind；　Mr　Hornblower；　when　I　suggest　you　accept　Captain　Pellew's　invitation…and　it　might　be　less　disturbing　for　me　if　you　did。'
　'Aye　aye；　sir；'　said　Hornblower。
　
　
　
　CHAPTER　TWO　…　THE　CARGO　OF　RICE
　The　wolf　was　in　among　the　sheep。　The　tossing　grey　water　of　the　Bay　of　Biscay　was　dotted　with　white　sails　as　far　as　the　eye　could　see；　and　although　a　strong　breeze　was　blowing　every　vessel　was　under　perilously　heavy　canvas。　Every　ship　but　one　was　trying　to　escape；　the　exception　was　His　Majesty's　frigate　Indefatigable；　Captain　Sir　Edward　Pellew。　Farther　out　in　the　Atlantic；　hundreds　of　miles　away；　a　great　battle　was　being　fought；　where　the　ships　of　the　line　were　thrashing　out　the　question　as　to　whether　England　or　France　should　wield　the　weapon　of　sea　power；　here　in　the　Bay　the　convoy　which　the　French　ships　were　intended　to　escort　was　exposed　to　the　attack　of　a　ship　of　prey　at　liberty　to　capture　any　ship　she　could　overhaul。　She　had　e　surging　up　from　leeward；　cutting　off　all　chance　of　escape　in　that　direction；　and　the　clumsy　merchant　ships　were　forced　to　beat　to　windward；　they　were　all　filled　with　the　food　which　revolutionary　France　（her　economy　disordered　by　the　convulsion　through　which　she　was　passing）　was　awaiting　so　anxiously；　and　their　crews　were　all　anxious　to　escape　confinement　in　an　English　prison。　Ship　after　ship　was　overhauled；　a　shot　or　two；　and　the　newfangled　tricolour　came　fluttering　down　from　the　gaff；　and　a　prize…crew　was　hurriedly　sent　on　board　to　conduct　the　captive　to　an　English　port　while　the　frigate　dashed　after　fresh　prey。
　On　the　quarterdeck　of　the　Indefatigable　Pellew　fumed　over　each　necessary　delay。　The　convoy；　each　ship　as　close　to　the　wind　as　she　would　lie；　and　under　all　the　sail　she　could　carry；　was　slowly　scattering；　spreading　farther　and　farther　with　the　passing　minutes；　and　some　of　these　would　find　safety　in　mere　dispersion　if　any　time　was　wasted。　Pellew　did　not　wait　to　pick　up　his　boat；　at　each　surrender　he　merely　ordered　away　an　officer　and　an　armed　guard；　and　the　moment　the　prize…crew　was　on　its　way　he　filled　his　main…topsail　again　and　hurried　of　after　the　next　victim。　The　brig　they　were　pursuing　at　the　moment　was　slow　to　surrender。　The　long　nine…pounders　in　the　Indefatigable's　bows　bellowed　out　more　than　once；　on　that　heaving　sea　it　was　not　so　easy　to　aim　accurately　and　the　brig　continued　on　her　course　hoping　for　some　miracle　to　save　her。
　'Very　well；'　snapped　Pellew。　'He　has　asked　for　it。　Let　him　have　it。'
　The　gunlayers　at　the　bow　chasers　changed　their　point　of　aim；　firing　at　the　ship　instead　of　across　her　bows。
　'Not　into　the　hull；　damn　it；'　shouted　Pellew…one　shot　had　struck　the　brig　perilously　close　to　her　waterline。　'Cripple　her。'
　The　next　shot　by　luck　or　by　judgement　was　given　better　elevation。　The　slings　of　the　foretopsail　yard　were　shot　away；　the　reefed　sail　came　down；　the　yard　hanging　lopsidedly；　and　the　brig　came　up　into　the　wind　for　the　Indefatigable　to　heave　to　close　beside　her；　her　broadside　ready　to　fire　into　her。　Under　that　threat　her　flag　came　down。
　'What　brig's　that？'　shouted　Pellew　through　his　megaphone。
　'Marie　Galante　of　Bordeaux；'　translated　the　officer　beside　Pellew　as　the　French　captain　made　reply。　'Twenty…four　days　out　from　New　Orleans　with　rice。'
　'Rice！'　said　Pellew。　'That'll　sell　for　a　pretty　penny　when　we　get　her　home。　Two　hundred　tons；　I　should　say。　Twelve　of　a　crew　at　most。　She'll　need　a　prize…crew　of　four；　a　midshipman's　mand。'
　He　looked　round　him　as　though　for　inspiration　before　giving　his　next　order。
　'Mr　Hornblower！'
　'Sir！'
　'Take　four　men　of　the　cutter's　crew　and　board　that　brig。　Mr　Soames　will　give　you　our　position。　Take　her　into　any　English　port　you　can　make；　and　report　there　for　orders。'
　'Aye　aye；　sir。'
　Hornblower　was　at　his　station　at　the　starboard　quarterdeck　carronades…which　was　perhaps　how　he　had　caught　Pellew's　eye　…　his　dirk　at　his　side　and　a　pistol　in　his　belt。　It　was　a　moment　for　fast　thinking；　for　anyone　could　see　Pellew's　impatience。　With　the　Indefatigable　cleared　for　action；　his　sea　chest　would　be　part　of　the　surgeon's　operating　table　down　below；　so　that　there　was　no　chance　of　getting　anything　out　of　it。　He　would　have　to　leave　just　as　he　was。　The　cutter　was　even　now　clawing　up　to　a　position　on　the　Indefatigable's　quarter；　so　he　ran　to　the　ship's　side　and　hailed　her；　trying　to　make　his　voice　sound　as　big　and　as　manly　as　he　could；　and　at　the　word　of　the　lieutenant　in　mand　she　turned　her　bows　in　towards　the　frigate。
　'Here's　our　latitude　and　longitude；　Mr　Hornblower；'　said　Soames；　the　master；　handing　a　scrap　of　paper　to　him。
　'Thank　you；'　said　Hornblower；　shoving　it　into　his　pocket。
　He　scrambled　awkwardly　into　the　mizzen…chains　and　looked　down　into　the　cutter。　Ship　and　boat　were　pitching　together；　almost　bows　on　to　the　sea；　and　the　distance　between　them　looked　appallingly　great；　the　bearded　seaman　standing　in　the　bows　could　only　just　reach　up　to　the　chains　with　his　long　boat…hook。　Hornblower　hesitated　for　a　long　second；　he　knew　he　was　ungainly　and　awkward…book　learning　was　of　no　use　when　it　came　to　jumping　into　a　boat…but　he　had　to　make　the　leap；　for　Pellew　was　fuming　behind　him　and　the　eyes　of　the　boat's　crew　and　of　the　whole　ship's　pany　were　on　him。　Better　to　jump　and　hurt　himself；　better　to　jump　and　make　an　exhibition　of　himself；　than　to　delay　the　ship。　Waiting　was　certain　failure；　while　he　still　had　a　choice　if　he　jumped。　Perhaps　at　a　word　from　Pellew　the　Indefatigable's　helmsman　allowed　the　ship's　head　to　fall　off　from　the　sea　a　little。　A　somewhat　diagonal　wave　lifted　the　Indefatigable's　stern　and　then　passed　on；　so　that　the　cutter's　bows　rose　as　the　ship's　stern　sank　a　trifle。　Hornblower　braced　himself　and　leaped。　His　feet　reached　the　gunwale　and　he　tottered　there　for　one　indescribable　second。　A　seaman　grabbed　the　breast　of　his　jacket　and　he　fell　forward　rather　than　backward。　Not　even　the　stout　arm　of　the　seaman；　fully　extended；　could　hold　him　up；　and　he　pitched　headforemost；　legs　in　the　air；　upon　the　hands　on　the　second　thwart。　He　cannoned　onto　their　bodies；　knocking　the　breath　out　of　his　own　against　their　muscular　shoulders；　and　finally　struggled　into　an　upright　position。
　'I'm　sorry；'　he　gasped　to　the　men　who　had　broken　his　fall。
　'Never　you　mind；　sir；'　said　the　nearest　one；　a　real　tarry　sailor；　tattooed　and　pigtailed。　'You're　only　a　featherweight。'
　The　lieutenant　in　mand　was　looking　at　him　from　the　sternsheets。
　'Would　you　go　to　the　brig；　please；　sir？'　he　asked；　and　the　lieutenant　bawled　an　order　and　the　cutter　swung　round　as　Hornblower　made　his　way　aft。
　It　was　a　pleasant　surprise　not　to　be　received　with　the　broad　grins　of　tolerantly　concealed　amusement。　Boarding　a　small　boat　from　a　big　frigate　in　even　a　moderate　sea　was　no　easy　matter；　probably　every　man　on　board　had　arrived　headfirst　at　some　time　or　other；　and　it　was　not　in　the　tradition　of　the　service；　as　understood　in　the　Indefatigable；　to　laugh　at　a　man　who　did　his　best　without　shirking。
　'Are　you　taking　charge　of　the　brig？'　asked　the　lieutenant。
　'Yes；　sir。　The　captain　told　me　to　take　four　of　your　men。'
　'They　had　better　be　topmen；　then；'　said　the　lieutenant；　casting　his　eyes　aloft　at　the　rigging　of　the　brig。　The　foretopsail　yard　was　hanging　precariously；　and　the　jib　halliard　had　slacked　off　so　that　the　sail　was　flapping　thunderously　in　the　wind。　'Do　you　know　these　men；　or　shall　I　pick　'em　for　you？'
　'I'd　be　obliged　if　you　would；　sir。'
　The　lieutenant　shouted　four　names；　and　four　men　replied。
　'Keep　'em　away　from　drink　and　they'll　be　all　right；'　said　the　lieutenant。　'Watch　the　French　crew。　They'll　recapture　the　ship　and　have　you　in　a　French　gaol　before　you　can　say　〃Jack　Robinson〃　if　you　don't。'
　'Aye　aye；　sir；'　said　Hornblower。
　The　cutter　surged　alongside　the　b