csf.thecommodore-第9部分

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　than　that　as　well。　These　pistols　were　an　example　of　the　way　she　tried　to　satisfy　wants　of　his　that　he　was　not　aware　of。　She　had　lifted　her　eyebrows　when　he　had　said　that　Gibbon　would　be　all　the　reading　material　he　would　need　on　this　mission；　and　she　had　bought　and　packed　a　score　of　other　books　for　him；　one　of　them；　he　could　see　from　here；　was　this　new　poem　in　the　Spenser　stanza；　Childe　Harold　（whatever　that　might　mean）　by　the　mad　peer　Lord　Byron。　Everyone　had　been　talking　about　it　just　before　his　departure；　he　must　admit　he　was　glad　of　the　chance　to　read　it；　although　he　would　never　have　dreamed　of　buying　it　for　himself。　Hornblower　looked　back　over　a　life　of　Spartan　self…denial　with　a　twinge　of　queer　regret　that　it　should　have　ended；　and　then　he　got　angrily　out　of　his　chair。　In　another　moment　he　would　be　wishing　he　were　not　married　to　Barbara；　and　that　was　perfect　nonsense。
　He　could　tell；　down　here　in　his　cabin；　that　the　Nonsuch　was　still　close…hauled　to　the　strong　northwesterly　breeze；　she　was　lying　over　to　it　so　steadily　that　there　was　little　roll　in　her　motion；　although　she　was　pitching　deeply　as　she　met　the　short　North　Sea　rollers。　The　tell…tale　pass　over　his　head　showed　that　she　was　making　good　her　course　for　the　Skaw；　and　the　whole　cabin　was　resonant　with　the　harping　of　the　taut　rigging　transmitted　through　the　timbers　of　the　ship；　while　she　creaked　positively　thunderously　as　she　pitched；　loud　enough　to　make　conversation　difficult。　There　was　one　frame　that　made　a　noise　like　a　pistol　shot　at　one　particular　moment　of　each　pitch；　and　he　had　already　grown　so　used　to　the　sound　as　to　be　able　to　anticipate　it　exactly；　judging　it　by　the　ship's　motion。
　He　had　been　puzzled　for　a　space　by　a　peculiar　irregular　thud　over　his　head；　in　fact；　he　had　been　so　piqued　at　his　inability　to　account　for　it　that　he　had　put　on　his　hat　and　gone　up　on　the　quarter…deck　to　find　out。　There　was　nothing　in　sight　on　the　deck　which　seemed　likely　to　have　made　that　rhythmical　noise；　no　pump　at　work；　nobody　beating　out　oakum　…　even　if　it　were　conceivable　that　such　a　thing　could　be　done　on　the　quarter…deck　of　a　ship　of　the　line；　there　were　only　Bush　and　the　officers　of　the　watch；　who　immediately　froze　into　inconspicuous　immobility　when　the　great　man　appeared　on　the　panion。　Heaven　only　knew　what　made　that　thumping；　Hornblower　began　to　wonder　if　his　ears　had　deceived　him　and　if　the　noise　really　came　from　a　deck　below。　He　had　to　make　a　pretence　of　having　e　on　deck　for　a　purpose　…　interesting　to　find　that　even　a　modore；　First　Class；　still　had　to　sink　to　such　subterfuges　…　and　he　began　to　stride　up　and　down　the　weather　side　of　the　quarter…deck；　hands　behind　him；　head　bowed　forward；　in　the　old　fortable　attitude。　Enthusiasts　had　talked　or　written　of　pleasures　innumerable；　of　gardens　or　women；　wine　or　fishing；　it　was　strange　that　no　one　had　ever　told　of　the　pleasure　of　walking　a　quarter…deck。
　But　what　was　it　that　had　made　that　slow　thumping　noise？　He　was　forgetting　why　he　had　e　upon　deck。　He　darted　covert　glances　from　under　his　brows　as　he　walked　up　and　down　and　still　saw　nothing　to　account　for　it。　The　noise　had　not　been　audible　since　he　came　on　deck；　but　still　curiosity　consumed　him。　He　stood　by　the　taffrail　and　looked　back　at　the　flotilla。　The　trim　ship…rigged　sloops　were　beating　up　against　the　strong　breeze　without　difficulty；　but　the　bomb…ketches　were　not　so　fortable。　The　absence　of　a　foremast；　the　huge　triangular　foresail；　made　it　hard　to　keep　them　from　yawing；　even　in　a　wind。　Every　now　and　then　they　would　put　their　stumpy　bowsprits　down　and　take　the　green　sea　in　over　their　bows。
　He　was　not　interested　in　bomb…ketches。　He　wanted　to　know　what　had　been　thumping　the　deck　over　his　head　when　he　was　in　his　cabin；　and　then　mon　sense　came　to　help　him　fight　down　his　ridiculous　self…consciousness。　Why　should　not　a　modore　ask　a　simple　question　about　a　simple　subject？　Why　in　the　world　had　he　even　hesitated　for　a　moment？　He　swung　round　with　determination。
　〃Captain　Bush？〃　he　called。
　〃Sir！〃　Bush　came　hastening　aft　to　him；　his　wooden　leg　thumping　the　deck。
　That　was　the　noise！　With　every　second　step　Bush　took；　his　wooden　leg　with　its　leather　button　came　down　with　a　thump　on　the　planking。　Hornblower　certainly　could　not　ask　the　question　he　had　just　been　forming　in　his　mind。
　〃I　hope　I　shall　have　the　pleasure　of　your　pany　at　dinner　this　evening；〃　said　Hornblower；　thinking　rapidly。
　〃Thank　you；　sir。　Yes；　sir。　Yes；　indeed；〃　said　Bush。　He　beamed　with　pleasure　at　the　invitation　so　that　Hornblower　felt　positively　hypocritical　as　he　made　his　way　down　into　the　cabin　to　supervise　the　last　of　his　unpacking。　Yet　it　was　as　well　that　he　had　been　led　by　his　own　peculiar　weaknesses　to　give　that　invitation　instead　of　spending　the　evening；　as　he　would　otherwise　have　done；　dreaming　about　Barbara；　calling　up　in　his　mind　the　lovely　drive　through　springtime　England　from　Smallbridge　to　Deal；　and　making　himself　as　miserable　at　sea　as　he　had　managed　to　make　himself　on　land。
　Bush　would　be　able　to　tell　him　about　the　officers　and　men　of　the　Nonsuch；　who　could　be　trusted　and　who　must　be　watched；　what　was　the　material　condition　of　the　ship；　if　the　stores　were　good　or　bad；　and　all　the　hundred　other　things　he　needed　to　know。　And　to…morrow；　as　soon　as　the　weather　moderated；　he　would　signal　for　'All　Captains'；　and　so　make　the　acquaintance　of　his　other　subordinates；　and　size　them　up；　and　perhaps　begin　to　convey　to　them　his　own　particular　viewpoints　and　theories；　so　that　when　the　time　came　for　action　there　would　be　need　for　few　signals　and　there　would　be　mon　action　directed　speedily　at　a　mon　objective。
　Meanwhile；　there　was　one　more　job　to　be　done　immediately；　the　present　would　be　the　best　time；　he　supposed　with　a　sigh；　but　he　was　conscious　of　a　faint　distaste　for　it　even　as　he　applied　himself　to　it。
　〃Pass　the　word　for　Mr　Braun　…　for　my　clerk；〃　he　said　to　Brown；　who　was　hanging　up　the　last　of　the　uniform　coats　behind　the　curtain　against　the　bulkhead。
　〃Aye　aye；　sir；〃　said　Brown。
　It　was　odd　that　his　clerk　and　his　coxswain　should　have　names　pronounced　in　identical　fashion；　it　was　that　coincidence　which　had　led　him　to　add　the　unnecessary　last　three　words　to　his　order。
　Mr　Braun　was　tall　and　spare；　fair；　youngish；　and　prematurely　bald；　and　Hornblower　did　not　like　him；　although　typically　he　was　more　cordial　to　him　than　he　would　have　been　if　he　had　liked　him。　He　offered　him　the　cabin　chair　while　he　himself　sat　back　on　the　locker；　and　when　he　saw　Mr　Braun's　eyes　resting　curiously　on　the　case　of　pistols　…　Barbara's　gift　…　he　condescended　to　discuss　it　with　him　as　a　conversational　preliminary；　pointing　out　the　advantages　of　the　percussion　caps　and　the　rifled　barrels。
　〃Very　good　weapons　indeed；　sir；〃　said　Mr　Braun；　replacing　them　in　their　velvet　case。
　He　looked　across　the　cabin　at　Hornblower；　the　dying　light　which　came　through　the　stern　windows　shining　on　his　face　and　reflected　in　curious　fashion　from　his　pale…green　eyes。
　〃You　speak　good　English；〃　said　Hornblower。
　〃Thank　you；　sir。　My　business　before　the　war　was　largely　with　England。　But　I　speak　Russian　and　Swedish　and　Finnish　and　Polish　and　German　and　French　just　as　well。　Lithuanian　a　little。　Estonian　a　little　because　it　is　so　like　Finnish。〃
　〃But　Swedish　is　your　native　language；　though？〃
　Mr　Braun　shrugged　his　thin　shoulders。
　〃My　father　spoke　Swedish。　My　mother　spoke　German；　sir。　I　spoke　Finnish　with　my　nurse；　and　French　with　one　tutor　and　English　with　another。　In　my　office　we　spoke　Russian　when　we　did　not　speak　Polish。〃
　〃But　I　thought　you　were　a　Swede？〃
　Mr　Braun　shrugged　his　shoulders　again。
　〃A　Swedish　subject；　sir；　but　I　was　born　a　Finn。　I　thought　of　myself　as　a　Finn　until　three　years　ago。〃
　So　Mr　Braun　was　one　more　of　these　stateless　individuals　with　whom　all　Europe　seemed　to　be　peopled　nowadays　…　men　and　women　without　a　country；　Frenchmen；　Germans；　Austrians；　Poles　who　had　been　uprooted　by　the　chances　of　war　and　who　dragged　out　a　dreary　existence　in　the　hope　that　some　day　another　chance　of　war　would　re…establish　them。
　〃When　Russia　took　advantage　of　her　pact　with　Bonaparte；〃　explained　Mr　Braun；　〃to　fall　upon　Finland；　I　was　one　of　those　who　fought。　What　use　was　it？　What　could　Finland　do　against　all　the　might　of　Russia？　I　was　one　of　the　fortunate　ones　who　escaped。　My　brothers　are　in　Russian　gaols　at　this　very　minute　if　they　are　alive；　but　I　hope　they　are　dead。　Sweden　was　in　revolution　…　there　was　no　refuge　for　me　there；　even　though　it　had　been　for　Sweden　that　I　was　fighting。　Germany；　Denmark；　Norway　were　in　Bonaparte's　hands；　and　Bonaparte　would　gladly　have　handed　me　back　to　oblige　his　new　Russian　ally。　But　I　was　in　an　English　ship；　one　of　those　to　which　I　sold　timber；　and　so　to　England　I　came。　One　day　I　was　the　richest　man　in　Finland　where　there　are　few　rich　men；　and　the　next　I　was　the　poorest　man　in　England　where　there　are　many　poor。〃
　The　pale…green　eyes　reflected　back　the　light　again　from　the　cabin　window；　and　Hornblower　realized　anew　that　his　clerk　was　a　man　of　disquieting　personality。　It　was　not　merely　the　fact　that　he　was　a　refugee；　and　Hornblower；　like　everybody　else；　was　surfeited　with　refugees　and　their　tales　of　woe　although　his　conscience　pricked　him　about　them　…　the　first　ones　had　begun　to　arrive　twen