“To whom have I the honour of being presented?” asked St Vincent, coldly. It appeared as if St Vincent entertained some prejudice against Germans.
“Doctor Eisenbeiss,” said Harmond.
“His Excellency the Baron von Eisenbeiss, High Chamberlain and Secretary of State to His Serene Highness the Prince of Seitz‑Bunau,” said the burly man, in further explanation. “It is with much pleasure that I make your acquaintance.”
He stood meeting St Vincent’s eyes for a moment, and then he bowed; St Vincent bowed only after Eisenbeiss had begun to bow; Hornblower and Bracegirdle followed his example. All four of them straightened up at the same moment.
“And now,” said Eisenbeiss, “I have the honour to present —”
He turned to the Prince and continued his speech in German, apparently repeating his first words and then mentioning the names in turn. The little Prince gave a half bow at each name, but as St Vincent bowed low — nearly as low as he had bowed to the King — Hornblower did likewise. Then the Prince spoke in German to Eisenbeiss.
“His Serene Highness says,” translated the latter, “that he is delighted to make the acquaintance of officers of His Majesty’s Navy, because it is His Highness’s will that he should make war against the French tyrant in their company.”
“Tell His Serene Highness,” said St Vincent, “that we are all delighted, too.”
The translation was made, and the Prince produced a smile for each of them. Then there was an uncomfortable moment as they looked at each other. Finally Eisenbeiss said something again to the Prince, received a reply, and then turned to the group.
“His Serene Highness,” he announced, “says that he will not detain you longer.”
“Hm’ph,” said St Vincent, but he bent himself once more in the middle, as did the others, and then they withdrew themselves, backwards and sideways, from out of His Serene Highness’s presence.
“Damned upstart whippersnapper,” mumbled St Vincent to himself, and then added, “At any rate, our duty’s done. We can leave. Follow me over to that door.”
Down below loud bawling by a footman in the courtyard brought up the Earl’s coach again, and they climbed in, Hornblower utterly dazed by reason of his cold, the excitement he had been through, and his puzzlement about the incident in which he had taken part.
“Well, that’s your midshipman, Hornblower,” said St Vincent. His voice was so like the rumbling of the iron tyres over the cobbles that Hornblower was not sure that he had heard aright — especially as what St Vincent had said was so strange.
“I beg your pardon, my lord?”
“I have no doubt you heard me. I said that’s your midshipman — the Prince of Seitz‑Bunau.”
“But who is he, my lord?”
“One of those German princes. Boney chased him out of his principality last year, on his way to Austerlitz. Country’s brimful of German princes chased out by Boney. The point is that this one’s the King’s great‑nephew, as you heard.”
“And he’s to be one of my midshipmen?”
“That is so. He’s young enough to learn sense, not like most of ’em. Most of ’em go in the army. On the staff, God help the staff. But now the navy’s fashionable — first time since the Dutch Wars. We’ve been winning battles, and God knows the soldiers haven’t. So all the ne’er do well young lords join the Navy nowadays instead of the Light Dragoons. It was His Majesty’s own idea that this young fellow should do the same.”
“I understand, my lord.”
“It won’t do him any harm. Atropos won’t be any palace, of course.”
“That’s what I was thinking, my lord. The midshipmen’s berth in Atropos —”
“You’ll have to put him there, all the same. Not much room in a flush-decked sloop. If it were a ship of the line he might berth by himself, but if it’s to be Atropos he’ll have to take what comes. And it won’t be caviar and venison, either. I’ll send you orders on the subject, of course.”
“Aye aye, my lord.”
The coach was grinding to a stop at the Admiralty; someone opened the door, and St Vincent began to heave himself out of his seat. Hornblower followed him in under the portico.