Pride came to help him. He would not sink to human weaknesses in the sight of these men.
“I shall sail in any case,” he said, coldly, “as soon as I have a crew and a steam tug.”
“May I ask what Your Lordship intends to do?” asked Sharpe.
Hornblower had to think quickly to make a reasonable answer to this question; he had no idea. All he knew was that he was not going to give up without a struggle; no crisis was ever alleviated by wasting time.
“I shall employ what time I have here in the composition of orders for my squadron,” he said. “My flag-lieutenant will write them at my dictation, and I shall ask you, Mr Sharpe, to undertake the distribution of them by all the means you find available.”
“Very good, My Lord.”
Hornblower remembered at that moment something he should have done already. It was not too late; this part of his duty he must still carry out. And it would at least disguise the anguish he felt.
“Mr Harcourt,” he said. “I have to commend you greatly on the excellent way in which you executed my orders. You carried out the task of observing Daring in most exemplary fashion. You can be sure I shall call the attention of Their Lordships to your behaviour.”
“Thank you, My Lord.”
“And this man Jones,” went on Hornblower. “No seaman could have acted with more intelligence. You made a good selection, Mr Harcourt, and Jones justified it. I have it in mind to reward him. I can give him an acting rating and confirm it as soon as possible.”
“Thank you, My Lord. He has been rated before and disrated.”
“Drink? Is that why he was denied shore leave?”
“I’m afraid so, My Lord.”
“Then what do you recommend?”
Harcourt was at a loss.
“You could say to his face what you’ve already said to me, My Lord. You could shake his hand -”
Hornblower laughed.
“And be known through the Navy as the meanest Admiral who ever flew a flag? No. A golden guinea at least. Two guineas. I’ll give them to him myself, and I shall request you to give him three days’ leave as soon as we see Kingston again. Let him have his debauch, if that is the only way in which we can reward him. I have to consider the feelings of the whole squadron.”
“Aye aye, My Lord.”
“Now, Mr Gerard, I’ll begin the writing of those orders.”
It was indeed noon before Crab cast off and was taken in tow by the tug Temeraire; it was significant of Hornblower’s state of mind that he never gave a thought to the implication of that glorious name. The interval before sailing, all the long, stifling morning, was taken up by the dictation of orders, to be dispersed to every ship of his squadron. An infinity of copies was necessary. Sharpe would send them under seal by every British ship leaving New Orleans for the West Indies, in the hope that should one of them encounter a King’s ship his orders would be passed on without the delay of being sent to Kingston and then transmitted through official channels. Every ship of the West India squadron was to keep a sharp lookout for the American ship Daring. Every ship was to enquire her business, and was to ascertain, if possible, whether Daring had troops on board; but (Hornblower sweated more feverishly than ever as he worded this) captains of HM’s vessels were reminded of that passage in the Commander-in-Chief’s original instructions regarding behaviour towards the American flag. If troops were not on board an effort was to be made to ascertain where they had been landed; if they were, Daring was to be kept in sight until they should be landed. Captains were to exercise a wide discretion regarding any interference with Daring’s operations.
Seeing that these orders would not leave New Orleans until tomorrow, and would travel by slow merchant ship, it was hardly likely that they would reach any ship of the squadron before Daring had done whatever she planned to do. Yet it was necessary to take every possible precaution.