The brig rounded-to and anchored very neatly indeed; if she had been a vessel included in his command he would have grunted with grudging satisfaction. As it was he grunted with a mixture of envy and derision and turned away to await the inevitable call in the seclusion of Admiralty House.
When it came he fingered the visiting card with its plain ‘Mr Charles Ramsbottom’ and found some small satisfaction in deciding that he had at last come across a name more unlovely than his own. But the owner of the name, when he was ushered in, made a better impression. In his very early twenties, he was small and slight and – for what it was worth – strikingly handsome, with black hair and eyes and what could only be described as ‘chiselled features’ deeply tanned after weeks at sea; not at all what might be expected of a Bradford wool manufacturer, while his dark-green coat and formal white breeches were in quiet good taste.
“My wife wrote to me about you, Mr Ramsbottom,” said Hornblower.
“That was very kind of Lady Hornblower. But of course she is kindness personified. May I present my letters of introduction from Lord Liverpool and Bishop Wilberforce, My Lord?”
Barbara was perfectly right, then, in predicting that Ramsbottom would win favour with both political parties – here were letters from the Prime Minister himself and a prominent member of the Opposition. Hornblower glanced through them, and was conscious of an undernote of cordiality despite their formal wording.
“Excellent, Mr Ramsbottom,” said Hornblower. He tried to adopt the tone which he presumed would be adopted by a man who had just read a letter of introduction from the Prime Minister. “Is there any way in which I can be of service to you?”
“None that I am aware of at present, My Lord. I must complete with water and stores, naturally, but my purser is a capable man. I intend to continue my voyage through these charming islands.”
“Of course,” said Hornblower, soothingly. He could not imagine why anyone should voluntarily spend any time in these waters where piracy was still smouldering, nor why anyone should wish to visit countries where malaria and yellow fever were endemic, and where civil war, revolution, and massacre claimed even heavier toll.
“You find the Bride of Abydos a comfortable ship?” asked Hornblower.
Those eighteen-gun brigs of the Royal Navy were notoriously unpleasant craft, crowded and crank.
“Comfortable enough, My Lord, thank you,” answered Ramsbottom. “I lightened her by changing the armament; she mounts only twelve guns now – two long sixes and ten carronades, twenty-four-pounders instead of thirty-two-pounders.”
“So you could still deal with a pirate?”
“Oh, yes indeed, My Lord. And with the reduction in weight on deck – a full ten tons – and modifications in her sail plan I have made a seaworthy craft of her, I believe and hope.”
“I’m sure you have, Mr Ramsbottom,” said Hornblower. It was likely enough; the brigs-of-war were naturally crammed with guns and warlike stores to the limit of stability and human endurance, so that a moderate reduction in dead weight might bring profound results in comfort and handiness.
“It would give me the greatest pleasure,” went on Mr Ramsbottom, “if I could induce Your Lordship to visit me on board. It would indeed be an honour, and would gratify my crew. Perhaps I could even persuade Your Lordship to dine on board?”
“We can discuss that after you have dined with me, Mr Ramsbottom,” replied Hornblower, remembering his manners and his obligation to invite to dinner any bearer of a reasonable introduction.
“You are most kind, My Lord,” said Mr Ramsbottom. “I must, of course, present my introductions to His Excellency at the earliest opportunity.”
There was something quite winning about Mr Ramsbottom’s smile as he said this, an awareness and a tolerance of the rules of social etiquette. A visitor to Jamaica would normally be bound to pay his respects first to the Governor, but Ramsbottom was no ordinary visitor; as captain of a ship his first call was due to the Naval authorities, to Hornblower, in fact. A trivial point, as his smile implied, but, etiquette being etiquette, trivial points demanded strict attention.