“So I took the other file down the ladder, sir,” said the corporal. “I went first with the lantern, seein’ as ‘ow I didn’t ‘ave no musket with me. We got down to the foot of the ladder in among those cases down there, sir. The cap’n, ‘e was yellin’ down the hatchway. ”Urry,’ he says. ”Urry. Don’t let ’em escape. ‘Urry.’ So we started climbin’ for’ard over the stores, sir.”
The corporal hesitated as he approached the climax of his story. He might possibly have been seeking a crude dramatic effect, but more likely he was still afraid of being entangled in circumstances that might damage him despite his innocence.
“What happened then?” demanded Buckland.
“Well, sir —”
Coleman reappeared at this moment, encumbered with various gear, including a light six‑foot plank he had been carrying on his shoulder. He looked to Buckland for permission to carry on, received a nod, laid the plank on the deck along with the canvas and lines, and disappeared with the rest down the ladder.
“Well?” said Buckland to the corporal.
“I dunno what ‘appened, sir.”
“Tell us what you know.”
“I ‘eard a yell, sir. An’ a crash. I ‘adn’t ‘ardly gone ten yards, sir. So I came back with the lantern.”
“What did you find?”
“It was the cap’n, sir. Layin’ there at the foot of the ladder. Like ‘e was dead, sir. ‘E’d fallen down the ‘archway, sir.”
“What did you do?”
“I tried to turn ‘im over, sir. ‘Is face was all bloody‑like. ‘E was stunned, sir. I thought ‘e might be dead but I could feel ‘is ‘eart.”
“Yes?”
“I didn’t know what I ought to do, sir. I didn’t know nothink about this ‘ere meeting, sir.”
“But what did you do, in the end?”
“I left my two men with the cap’n, sir, an’ I come up to give the alarm. I didn’t know who to trust, sir.”
There was irony in this situation — the corporal frightened lest he should be taken to task about a petty question as to whether he should have sent a messenger or come himself, while the four lieutenants eyeing him were in danger of hanging.
“Well?”
“I saw Mr Hornblower, sir.” The relief in the corporal’s voice echoed the relief he must have felt at finding someone to take over his enormous responsibility. “‘E was with young Mr Wellard, I think ‘is name is. Mr Hornblower, ‘e told me to stand guard ‘ere, sir, after I told ‘im about the cap’n.”
“It sounds as if you did right, corporal,” said Buckland, judicially.
“Thank ‘ee, sir. Thank ‘ee, sir.”
Coleman came climbing up the ladder, and with another glance at Buckland for permission passed the gear he had left down to someone else under the hatchway. Then he descended again. Bush was looking at the corporal, who, now his tale was told, was self‑consciously awkward again under the concentrated gaze of four lieutenants.
“Now, corporal,” said Hornblower, speaking unexpectedly and with deliberation. “You have no idea how the captain came to fall down the hatchway?”
“No, sir. Indeed I haven’t, sir.”
Hornblower shot one single glance at his colleagues, one and no more. The corporal’s words and Hornblower’s glance were vastly reassuring.
“He was excited, you say? Come on, man, speak up.”
“Well, yessir.” The corporal remembered his earlier unguarded statement, and then in a sudden flood of loquacity he went on: “‘E was yellin’ after us down the hatchway, sir. I expect ‘e was leanin’ over. ‘E must ‘ave been leanin’ when the ship pitched, sir. ‘E could catch ‘is foot on the coamin’ and fall ‘ead first, sir.”
“That’s what must have happened,” said Hornblower.
Clive came climbing up the ladder and stepped stiffly over the coaming.
“I’m going to sway him up now,” he said. He looked at the four lieutenants and then put his hand in the bosom of his shirt and took out a pistol. “This was lying at the captain’s side.”
“I’ll take charge of that,” said Buckland.
“There ought to be another one down there, judging by what we’ve just heard,” said Roberts, speaking for the first time. He spoke overloudly, too; excitement had worked on him, and his manner might appear suspicious to anyone with anything to suspect. Bush felt a twinge of annoyance and fear.