“Yes, My Lord. But they’ll not be far. I’ll send along the waterfront and find ’em. I’ll have ’em back here in an hour.”
“Thank you, Mr Harcourt. Do your best. Mr Sharpe, we shall need to be towed as far as the Pass. Will you send and order a steam tug for us?”
Sharpe looked over at the dark man who had brought in the bearskin cap.
“Doubt if there’ll be one before noon,” said the dark man. “Daring took two – and I know now why she did. The President Madison’s laid up. Toueur’s gone up to Baton Rouge with flat boats. Ecrevisse – the one that brought this ship up – went down again in the afternoon. I think Temeraire’s on her way up. We might be able to get her to turn round as soon as she arrives. And that’s all there are.”
“Noon,” said Hornblower. “Thirteen hours’ start. Daring’ll be at sea before we leave here.”
“And she’s one of the fastest ships built,” said Sharpe. “She logged fifteen knots when she was being chased by Tenedos during the war.”
“What’s the Mexican port where she’ll take the soldiers on board?”
“It’s only a village on a lagoon, Corpus Christi, My Lord. Five hundred miles and a fair wind.”
Hornblower could picture the Daring, with her beautiful lines and enormous spread of canvas, booming along before the trade wind. The little Crab in whose cabin he stood was not intended for fast ocean runs. She had been built and rigged small and handy, to work in and out of obscure inlets, doing the police work of the West Indian archipelago. On the run to Corpus Christi Daring would certainly gain several hours, a day or more, perhaps, to add to the twelve hours’ lead she already enjoyed. It would not take long to march or to ferry five hundred disciplined men on board, and then she would sail again. Where? Hornblower’s weary brain baulked at the contemplation of the immensely complex political situation in the lands within easy run of Corpus Christi. If he could guess, he might be able to anticipate Daring’s arrival at the danger point; if he merely pursued her to Corpus Christi he would almost certainly arrive there to find her already gone, soldiers and all, having vanished out into the trackless sea on whatever errand of mischief she meditated.
“Daring’s an American ship, My Lord,” said Sharpe, to add to his troubles.
That was an important point, a very important point. Daring had an ostensibly legal errand, and she flew the Stars and Stripes. He could think of no excuse for taking her into port for examination. His instructions had been very strict regarding his treatment of the American flag. No more than nine years ago America had gone boldly to war against the greatest maritime power in the world on account of the Royal Navy’s attitude towards the American mercantile marine.
“She’s armed, and she’ll be full of men, My Lord,” said Gerard.
That was another important point, and a very positive point at that. With her twelve-pounders and five hundred disciplined soldiers – and her large American crew as well – she could laugh at anything Crab could threaten with her six-pounders and her crew of sixteen. Daring would be within her rights to refuse to obey any signals from Crab, and Crab could do nothing to compel obedience. Shoot away a spar? Not so easy with a six-pounder, and even if no one were to be killed by accident there would be a terrible diplomatic storm if he were to fire on the Stars and Stripes. Could he shadow her, so at least to be on hand when her real purpose was revealed? No; impossible. Anywhere out at sea Daring had only to spread her wings to a fair wind to leave Crab below the horizon in an afternoon, and then Daring could resume her true course un-pursued.
Sweating in the stifling night, Hornblower felt like a lassoed wild animal. At every moment some fresh coil was being wound about him to render him more helpless. He was tempted, like a wild animal, to lose all self control, to lapse into mad panic, to fling away all his strength in an explosion of rage. He had sometimes seen, during his long professional career, senior officers giving vent to explosions of that sort. But it would not help. He looked round at the circle of faces in the lamplight; the faces wore the sober expressions of men who were witnessing a failure, men who were aware that they were in the presence of an Admiral who had made a woeful hash of the first important business he had encountered. That in itself could drive him insane with fury.