“Cap’n’s respects, My Lord, and the shore boat is approaching.”
“My compliments to the captain, and I’ll be on deck at once.”
The shore boat was bright with a lantern hanging over the stern-sheets in the midst of the darkness of the harbour. It lit up Mendez-Castillo’s resplendent uniform. Down the side they went, midshipman, lieutenants, captain, Admiral, in the reversed order of naval precedence, and powerful strokes of the oars carried them over the black water towards the city, where a few lights gleamed. They passed close by the Estrella; there was a light hanging in her rigging, but apparently she had completed her watering, for there was no activity about her.
Nevertheless, there came a continuous faint wailing from up her open hatchways. Perhaps the slaves there were mourning the departure of those of them who had been taken from them; perhaps they were voicing their apprehension at what the future held in store for them. It occurred to Hornblower that these unfortunate people, snatched from their homes, packed into a ship whose like they had never seen before, guarded by white men (and white faces must be as extraordinary to them as emerald green ones would be to a European) could have no idea at all of what lay in store for them, any more than he himself would have if he were to be abducted to another planet.
“His Excellency,” said Mendez-Castillo beside him, “has had pleasure in deciding to receive Your Excellency with full ceremonial.”
“That is most kind of His Excellency,” replied Hornblower, recalling himself to his present duties with an effort, and expressing himself in Spanish with even more effort.
The tiller was put over and the boat turned abruptly round a corner, revealing a brightly-lit jetty, with a massive gateway beyond. The boat ran alongside and half a dozen uniformed figures stood to attention as the party climbed on shore.
“This way, Your Excellency,” murmured Mendez-Castillo.
They passed through the gateway into a courtyard lit by scores of lanterns, which shone on ranks of soldiers drawn up in two treble lines. As Hornblower emerged into the courtyard a shouted order brought the muskets to the present, and at the same moment a band burst into music. Hornblower’s tone-deaf ear heard the jerky braying, and he halted at attention with his hand to the brim of his cocked hat, his fellow officers beside him, until the deafening noise – echoed and multiplied by the surrounding walls – came to an end.
“A fine military appearance, Major,” said Hornblower, looking down the rigid lines of white cross-belts.
“Your Excellency is too kind. Would Your Excellency please proceed to the door in front?”
An imposing flight of steps, lined on either side with more uniforms; beyond that an open doorway and a vast room. A prolonged whispered conference between Mendez-Castillo and an official beside the door, and then their names blared out in resounding Spanish – Hornblower had long given up hope of ever hearing his name pronounced intelligibly by a foreign tongue.
The central figure in the room rose from his chair – which was almost a throne – to receive the British Commander-in-Chief standing. He was a much younger man than Hornblower had expected, in his thirties, dark complexioned, with a thin, mobile face and a humorous expression at odds with his arrogant hooked nose. His uniform gleamed with gold lace, with the Order of the Golden Fleece on his breast.
Mendez-Castillo made the presentations; the Englishmen bowed deeply to the representative of His Most Catholic Majesty and each received a polite inclination in return. Mendez-Castillo ventured so far as to murmur their host’s titles – probably a breach of etiquette, thought Hornblower, for it should be assumed that visitors were fully aware of them.
“His Excellency the Marques de Ayora, Captain-General of His Most Catholic Majesty’s dominion of Puerto Rico.”
Ayora smiled in welcome.
“I know you speak Spanish, Your Excellency,” he said. “I have already had the pleasure of hearing you do so.”
“Indeed, Your Excellency?”
“I was a major of migueletes under Claros at the time of the attack on Rosas. I had the honour of serving beside Your Excellency – I remember Your Excellency well. Your Excellency would naturally not remember me.”