“The Papillon,” said Sir Edward (he did not condescend to pronounce it French-fashion), “lies just here. Mr Soames took the bearings.”
He indicated a pencilled cross on the chart, far up the channel.
“You gentlemen,” went on Pellew, “are going in with the boats to fetch her out.”
So that was it. A cutting-out expedition.
“Mr Eccles will be in general command. I will ask him to tell you his plan.”
The gray-haired first lieutenant with the surprisingly young blue eyes looked round at the others.
“I shall have the launch,” he said, “and Mr Soames the cutter. Mr Chadd and Mr Mallory will command the first and second gigs. And Mr Hornblower will command the jolly boat. Each of the boats except Mr Hornblower’s will have a junior officer second in command.”
That would not be necessary for the jolly boat with its crew of seven. The launch and cutter would carry from thirty to forty men each, and the gigs twenty each; it was a large force that was being despatched — nearly half the ship’s company.
“She’s a ship of war,” explained Eccles, reading their thoughts. “No merchantman. Ten guns a side, and full of men.”
Nearer two hundred men than a hundred, certainly — plentiful opposition for a hundred and twenty British seamen.
“But we will be attacking her by night and taking her by surprise,” said Eccles, reading their thoughts again.
“Surprise,” put in Pellew, “is more than half the battle, as you know, gentlemen — please pardon The interruption, Mr Eccles.”
“At the moment,” went on Eccles, “we are out of sight of land. We are about to stand in again. We have never hung about this part of the coast, and the Frogs’ll think we’ve gone for good. We’ll make the land after nightfall, stand in as far as possible, and then the boats will go in. High water to-morrow morning is at four-fifty; dawn is at five-thirty. The attack will be delivered at four-thirty so that the watch below will have had time to get to sleep. The launch will attack on the starboard quarter, and the cutter on the larboard quarter. Mr Mallory’s gig will attack on the larboard bow, and Mr Chadd’s on the starboard bow. Mr Chadd will be responsible for cutting the corvette’s cable as soon as he has mastered the forecastle, and the other boats’ crews have at least reached the quarterdeck.”
Eccles looked round at the other three commanders of the large boats, and they nodded understanding. Then he went on.
“Mr Hornblower with the jolly boat will wait until the attack has gained a foothold on the deck. He will then board at the main chains, either to starboard or larboard as he sees fit, and he will at once ascend the main rigging, paying no attention to whatever fighting is going on on deck. He will see to it that the maintopsail is loosed and he will sheet it home on receipt of further orders. I myself, or Mr Soames in the event of my being killed or wounded, will send two hands to the wheel and will attend to steering the corvette as soon as she is under way. The tide will take us out and the Indefatigable will be awaiting us just out of gunshot from the shore batteries.”
“Any comments, gentlemen?” asked Pellew.
That was the moment when Hornblower should have spoken up — the only moment when he could. Eccles’ orders had set in motion sick feelings of apprehension in his stomach. Hornblower was no maintopman, and Hornblower knew it. He hated heights, and he hated going aloft. He knew he had none of the monkey-like agility and self-confidence of the good seaman. He was unsure of himself aloft in the dark even in the Indefatigable, and he was utterly appalled at the thought of going aloft in an entirely strange ship and finding his way among strange rigging. He felt himself quite unfitted for the duty assigned to him, and he should have raised a protest at once on account of his unfitness. But he let the opportunity pass, for he was overcome by the matter-of-fact way in which the other officers accepted the plan. He looked round at the unmoved faces; nobody was paying any attention to him, and he jibbed at making himself conspicuous. He swallowed; he even got as far as opening his mouth, but still no one looked at him, and his protest died stillborn.