Hornblower and the Hotspur. C. S. Forester

“Course east by south, Mr Prowse.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

Hotspur crept along. The day was cloudy but clear, and the horizon was extending every minute. There was the mainland of France, Pointe St Mathieu – Point Matthew – in plain view. From there the land trended away out of sight again.

“Land on the lee bow!” yelled Orrock from the foretopmast-head.

“That’ll he the other headland, sir,” said Prowse.

“Toulinguet,” agreed Hornblower and then he corrected his pronunciation of ‘Toolingwette’. For months or years to come he might be beating about this coast, and he wanted no chance of misunderstanding with any of his officers when he gave orders.

Between those two headlands the Atlantic broke in through the wild Breton coast and reached deep inland to form the roadstead of Brest.

“Can you make out the channel yet, Mr Orrock?” yelled Hornblower.

“Not yet, sir. At least, not very well.”

A ship of war – a King’s ship – approaching a foreign coast was under a handicap on this sort of mission in peacetime. She could not enter into foreign territorial waters (except under stress of weather) without permission previously asked and obtained; she certainly could not trespass within the limits of a foreign naval base without occasioning a series of angry notes between the respective governments.

“We must keep out of long cannon shot of the shore,” said Hornblower.

“Yes, sir. Oh yes, of course, sir,” agreed Prowse.

The second more hearty agreement was called forth when Prowse realized the implications of what Hornblower was saying. Nations asserted sovereignty over all the waters that could he dominated by their artillery, even if there was no cannon mounted at any particular point. In fact international law was hardening into a convention fixing an arbitrary limit of three miles.

“Deck!” yelled Orrock. “I can see masts now. Can just see ’em.”

“Count all you can see, very carefully, Mr Orrock.”

Orrock went on with his report. He had an experienced sailor beside him at the masthead, but Hornblower, listening, had no intention of trusting entirely to their observation, and Bush was fuming with impatience.

“Mr Bush,” said Hornblower. “I’ll be wearing ship in fifteen minutes. Would you be so kind as to take a glass to the mizzen topmast-head? You’ll have a good chance of seeing all that Orrock’s seeing. Please take notes.”

“Aye aye, sir,” said Bush.

He was at the mizzen shrouds in a moment. Soon he was running up the ratlines at a speed that would have been a credit to any young seaman.

“That makes twelve of the line, sir,” yelled Orrock. “No topmasts hoisted. No yards crossed.”

The seaman beside him interrupted his report.

“Breakers on the lee bow!”

“That’s the Parquette,” said Hornblower.

The Black Stones on the one side, the Parquette on the other, and, farther up, the Little Girls in the middle, marked off the passage into Brest. On a clear day like this, with a gentle wind, they were no menace, but lives by the hundred had been lost on them during storms. Prowse was pacing restlessly back and forward to the binnacle taking bearings. Hornblower was carefully gauging the direction of the wind. If the French squadron had no ship of the line ready for sea there was no need to take risks. A shift in the wind might soon find Hotspur embayed on a lee shore. He swept his glass round the wild coast that had grown up round his horizon.

“Very well, Mr Prowse. We’ll wear ship now, while we can still weather the Parquette.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

Priowse’s relief was obvious. His business was to keep the ship out of danger, and he clearly preferred a wide margin of safety. Hornblower looked around at the officer of the watch.

“Mr Poole! Wear the ship, if you please.”

The pipes shrilled and the orders were passed. Hands went to the braces as the helm was put up while Hornblower scanned the shore warily.

“Steady as you go!”

Hotspur settled sweetly on her new course. Hornblower was growing intimate with her ways, like a bridegroom learning about his bride. No, that was an unlucky simile, to be discarded instantly. He hoped that he and Hotspur were better suited to each other than he and Maria. And he must think about something else.

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