A Ship of the Line. C. S. Forester

“I want to hear your report, Hornblower,” he said.

“I have it here in writing, sir.”

“Thank you. But let us hear a little about your doings verbally. Captain Bolton tells me he spoke a prize you had taken. Where did you go?”

Hornblower began his account — he was glad that events had moved so fast that he was able to omit all reference to the circumstances in which he had parted company from the East India convoy. He told of his capture of the Amelie and of the little fleet of small vessels at Llanza. The admiral’s heavy face showed a gleam of extra animation when he heard that he was a thousand pounds the richer as a result of Hornblower’s activity, and he nodded sympathetically when Hornblower explained the necessity of burning the last prize he had taken — the coaster near Cette. Cautiously Hornblower put forward the suggestion that the squadron might be most profitably employed in watching between Port Vendres and Rosas, on which stretch, thanks to the destruction of the battery at Llanza, there was now no refuge for French shipping. A hint of a groove appeared between the admiral’s eyebrows at that, and Hornblower swerved away from the subject. Clearly Leighton was not the sort of admiral to welcome suggestions from his inferiors.

Hornblower hurriedly began to deal with the next day’s action to the south-westward.

“One moment, Captain,” said Leighton. “You mean you went southward the night before last?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You must have passed close to this rendezvous during the darkness?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You made no attempt to ascertain whether the flagship had arrived?”

“I gave orders for a specially good lookout to be kept, sir.”

The groove between Leighton’s eyebrows was very noticeable now. Admirals were always plagued by the tendency of their captains, when on blockade service, to make excuses to get away and act independently — if only because it increased their share of prize-money — and obviously Leighton was not merely determined to deal drastically with any such tendency but also he guessed that Hornblower had been careful to arrange his cruise so as to pass the rendezvous at night.

“I am extremely annoyed, Captain Hornblower, that you should have acted in such a fashion. I have already admonished Captain Bolton for allowing you to go, and now that I find you were within ten miles of here two nights ago I find it difficult to express my displeasure. I reached the rendezvous that very morning, as it happened, and as a result of your behaviour two of His Majesty’s ships of the line have been kept idle here for nearly forty-eight hours until you should see fit to rejoin. Please understand, Captain Hornblower, that I am very annoyed indeed, and I shall have to report my annoyance to the admiral commanding in the Mediterranean, for him to take any action he thinks necessary.”

“Yes, sir,” said Hornblower. He tried to look as contrite as he could, but his judgment told him that it was not a court martial matter — he was covered by Bolton’s orders — and it was doubtful if Leighton would really carry out his threat of reporting to higher authority.

“Please continue,” said Leighton.

Hornblower began to describe the action against the Italian divisions. He could see by Leighton’s expression that he attached little importance to the moral effect achieved, and that his imagination was not powerful enough to allow him to gauge the effect on the Italians of an ignominious retreat before an invulnerable enemy. At Hornblower’s suggestion that they had lost five hundred men at least Leighton moved restlessly and exchanged glances with Sylvester — he clearly did not believe him. Hornblower decided discreetly not to put forward his estimate that the Italians had lost at least another five hundred men through straggling and desertion.

“Very interesting,” said Leighton, a trifle insincerely.

A knock at the cabin door and the entrance of Elliott eased the situation.

“The weather’s looking very nasty, sir,” he said. “I was thinking that if Captain Hornblower wishes to rejoin his ship —”

“Yes, of course,” said Leighton, rising.

From the deck they could see black clouds to leeward, rising rapidly against the wind.