“Shall I bring him in here, sir? He’s been waiting long enough. I can blindfold him.”
“Do what you like,” said Buckland with resignation.
A closer view, when the handkerchief had been removed, revealed Colonel Ortega as a younger man than he might have been thought at a distance. He was very slender, and he wore his threadbare uniform with some presence at elegance. A muscle in his left cheek twitched continually. Buckland and Bush rose slowly to their feet to acknowledge the introductions Hornblower made.
“Colonel Ortega says he speaks no English,” said Hornblower.
There was only the slightest extra stress on the word ‘says’, and only the slightest lingering in the glance that Hornblower shot at his two superiors as he said it, but it conveyed a warning.
“Well, ask him what he wants,” said Buckland.
The conversation in Spanish was formal; obviously all the opening remarks were cautious fencing as each speaker felt for the weaknesses in the other’s position and sought to conceal his own. But even Bush was aware of the moment when the vague sentences ended and definite proposals began. Ortega was bearing himself as a man conferring a favour; Hornblower like someone who did not care whether a favour was conferred or not. In the end he turned to Buckland and spoke in English.
“He has terms for a capitulation pat enough,” he said.
“Well?”
“Please don’t let him guess what you think, sir. But he suggests a free passage for the garrison. Ships — men — civilians. Passports for the ships while on passage to a Spanish possession — Cuba or Puerto Rico, in other words, sir. In exchange he’ll hand over everything intact. Military stores. The battery across the bay. Everything.”
“But —” Buckland struggled wildly to keep himself from revealing his feelings.
“I haven’t said anything to him worth mentioning, so far, sir,” said Hornblower.
Ortega had been watching the byplay keenly enough, and now he spoke again to Hornblower, with his shoulders back and his head high. There was passion in his voice, but what was more at odds with the dignity of his bearing was a peculiar gesture with which he accentuated one of his remarks — a jerk of the hand which called up the picture of someone vomiting.
“He says otherwise he’ll fight to the last,” interposed Hornblower. “He says Spanish soldiers can be relied upon to die to the last man sooner than submit to dishonour. He says we can do no more to them than we’ve done already — that we’ve reached the end of our tether, in other words, sir. And that we daren’t stay longer in the island to starve him out because of the yellow fever — the vomito negro, sir.”
In the whirl of excitement of the last few days Bush had forgotten all about the possibility of yellow fever. He found that he was looking concerned at the mention of it, and he hurriedly tried to assume an appearance of indifference. A glance at Buckland showed his face going through exactly the same transitions.
“I see,” said Buckland.
It was an appalling thought. If yellow fever were to strike it might within a week leave the Renown without enough men to work her sails.
Ortega broke into passionate speech again, and Hornblower translated.
“He says his troops have lived here all their lives. They won’t get yellow jack as easily as your men, and many of them have already had it. He has had it himself, he says, sir.”
Bush remembered the emphasis with which Ortega had tapped his breast.
“And the blacks believe us to be their enemies, because of what happened in Dominica, sir, so he says. He could make an alliance with them against us. They could send an army against us here in the fort tomorrow, then. But please don’t look as if you believe him, sir.”
“Damn it to hell,” said Buckland, exasperated. Bush wondered vaguely what it was that had happened in Dominica. History — even contemporary history — was not one of his strong points.
Again Ortega spoke.
“He says that’s his last word, sir. An honourable proposal and he won’t abate a jot, so he says. You could send him away now that you’ve heard it all and say that you’ll give him an answer in the morning.”