Gradually the roaring rain ceased; the sky, while it remained overcast above him, opened to the west and admitted a gleam of the setting sun, so that the landscape on his left was made glorious with a rainbow which Hornblower hardly noted. Here was the first cane-field; the track he was following became here a rough and narrow roadway through the cane, deeply rutted by cartwheels. The mule plodded on, eternally, through the cane. Now the road crossed another, and the mule pulled up at the crossroads. Before Hornblower could rouse himself to urge the mule onwards he heard a shout to his right. Far down the road he saw a group of horsemen illuminated against the sunset. With an urgent drumming of hoofs they came galloping towards him, and reined up at his side – a white man followed by two coloured men.
“It’s Lord Hornblower, isn’t it?” asked the white man – a young fellow; Hornblower noticed dully that, although mounted, he was still in full-dress clothes with his ruffled neckcloth all awry and bedraggled.
“Yes,” said Hornblower.
“Thank God you’re safe, sir,” said the young man. “Are you hurt? Are you wounded, My Lord?”
“No,” said Hornblower, swaying with fatigue on the back of the mule.
The young man turned to one of his coloured companions and issued rapid orders, and the coloured man wheeled his horse round and went galloping full pelt down the road.
“The whole island has been turned out to seek for you, My Lord,” said the young man. “What happened to you? We have searched for you all day.”
It would never do for an Admiral, a Commander-in-Chief, to betray unmanly weakness. Hornblower made himself stiffen his spine.
“I was kidnapped by pirates,” he said. He tried to speak nonchalantly, as if that was something that could happen to anyone any day, but it was difficult. His voice was only a hoarse croak. “I must go at once to the Governor. Where is His Excellency?”
“He must be at Government House, I fancy,” said the young man. “No more than thirty miles away.”
Thirty miles! Hornblower felt as if he could not ride another thirty yards.
“Very well,” he said, stiffly. “I must go there.”
“The Hough house is only two miles down the road here, My Lord,” said the young man. “Your carriage is still there, I believe. I have already sent a messenger.”
“We’ll go there first, then,” said Hornblower, as indifferently as he could manage.
A word from the white man brought the other coloured man from his horse, and Hornblower slid ungracefully from the mule. It was an enormous effort to get his foot up into the stirrup; the coloured man had to help him heave his right leg over. He had hardly gathered the reins in his hands – he had not yet discovered which was which – when the white man put his horse into a trot and Hornblower’s mount followed him. It was torture to bump about in the saddle.
“My name is Colston,” said the white man, checking his horse so that Hornblower came up alongside him. “I had the honour of being presented to Your Lordship at the ball last night.”
“Of course,” said Hornblower. “Tell me what happened there.”
“You were missed, My Lord, after the supper march had been kept waiting for you to head it with Mrs Hough. You and your secretary, Mr – Mr -”
“Spendlove,” said Hornblower.
“Yes, My Lord. At first it was thought that some urgent business was demanding your attention. It was not for an hour or two, I suppose, that your flag-lieutenant and Mr Hough could agree that you had been spirited away. There was great distress among the company, My Lord.”
“Yes?”
“Then the alarm was given. All the gentlemen present rode out in search for you. The militia was called out at dawn. The whole countryside is being patrolled. I expect the Highland regiment is in full march for here at this moment.”
“Indeed?” said Hornblower. A thousand infantrymen were making a forced march of thirty miles on his account; a thousand horsemen were scouring the island.
Hoofbeats sounded in front of them. Two horsemen approached in the gathering darkness; Hornblower could just recognise Hough and the messenger.