csf.thecommodore-第7部分

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hether　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　lifted　up　the　latter　he　could　see　that　the　cap　was　rent　open；　and　the　desk　was　marked　with　the　stain　of　the　explosion。
　He　looked　at　the　pistols　again。　He　must　have　been　blind；　not　to　have　noticed　the　absence　of　flint　and　priming　pan。　The　hammer　rested　on　what　appeared　at　first　sight　to　be　a　simple　block　of　metal；　but　this　pivoted　at　a　touch；　revealing　a　shallow　cavity　below　it　clearly　intended　to　receive　a　cap。　At　the　base　of　the　cavity　was　a　small　hole　which　must　municate　with　the　breech　end　of　the　barrel。　Put　a　charge　in　the　pistol；　put　a　cap　in　the　cavity；　and　fix　it　firm　with　the　metal　block。　Now　snap　the　hammer　down　upon　the　block。　The　cap　explodes；　the　flame　passes　through　the　hole　into　the　charge　and　the　pistol　is　fired。　No　haphazard　arrangement　of　flint　and　priming：　rain　or　spray　could　never　put　these　pistols　out　of　action。　Hornblower　guessed　there　would　not　be　a　misfire　once　in　a　hundred　shots。　It　was　a　wonderful　present　…　it　was　very　thoughtful　indeed　of　Barbara　to　buy　them　for　him；　Heaven　only　knew　what　they　must　have　cost；　some　skilled　workman　must　have　laboured　for　months　over　the　rifling　of　those　four　barrels；　and　the　copper　caps　…　five　hundred　of　them；　every　one　hand…made　…　must　have　cost　a　pretty　penny　of　themselves。　But　with　those　two　pistols　loaded　he　would　have　four　men's　lives　in　his　hands；　on　a　fine　day　with　two　flint…lock　double…barrelled　pistols　he　would　expect　one　misfire；　if　not　two；　and　if　it　were　raining　or　there　was　spray　flying　it　would　be　remarkable　if　he　could　fire　a　single　shot。　To　Hornblower's　mind　the　rifling　was　not　as　important　as　the　percussion　caps；　in　the　usual　ship…board　scuffle　when　pistols　were　likely　to　be　used　accuracy　was　not　important；　for　one　generally　pressed　the　muzzle　against　one's　adversary's　stomach　before　pulling　the　trigger。
　Hornblower　laid　the　pistols　in　their　velvet　nests　and　mused　on。　Dear　Barbara。　She　was　always　thinking　for　him；　trying　to　anticipate　his　wants；　but　something　more　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