“It was fortunate, all the same,” mused Pellew.
CHAPTER FOUR — THE MAN WHO FELT QUEER
This time the wolf was prowling round outside the sheepfold. H.M. frigate Indefatigable had chased the French corvette Papillon into the mouth of the Gironde, and was seeking a way of attacking her where she lay at anchor in the stream under the protection of the batteries at the mouth. Captain Pellew took his ship into shoal water as far as he dared, until in fact the batteries fired warning shots to make him keep his distance, and he stared long and keenly through his glass at the corvette. Then he shut his telescope and fumed on his hem to give the order that worked the Indefatigable away from the dangerous lee shore — out of sight of land, in fact. His departure might lull the French into a sense of security which, he hoped, would prove unjustified. For he had no intention of leaving them undisturbed. If the corvette could be captured or sunk not only would she be unavailable for raids on British commerce, but also the French would be forced to increase their coastal defences at this point and lessen the effort that could be put out elsewhere. War is a matter of savage blow and counter blow, and even a forty‑gun frigate could strike shrewd blows if shrewdly handled.
Midshipman Hornblower was walking the lee side of the quarterdeck, as became his lowly station as the junior officer of the watch, in the afternoon, when Midshipman Kennedy approached him. Kennedy took off his hat with a flourish and bowed low as his dancing master had once taught him, left foot advanced, hat down by the right knee. Hornblower entered into the spirit of the game, laid his hat against his stomach, and bent himself in the middle three times in quick succession. Thanks to his physical awkwardness he could parody ceremonial solemnity almost without trying.
“Most grave and reverend Signor,” said Kennedy, “I bear the compliments of Captain Sir Ed’ard Pellew, who humbly solicits Your Gravity’s attendance at dinner at eight bells in the afternoon watch.”
“My respects to Sir Edward,” replied Hornblower, bowing to his knees at the mention of the name, “and I shall condescend to make a brief appearance.”
“I am sure the captain will be both relieved and delighted,” said Kennedy. “I will convey him my felicitations along with your most flattering acceptance.”
Both hats flourished with even greater elaboration than before, but at that moment both young men noticed Mr Bolton, the officer of the watch, looking at them from the windward side, and they hurriedly put their hats on and assumed attitudes more consonant with the dignity of officers holding their warrants from King George.
“What’s in the captains mind?” asked Hornblower.
Kennedy laid one finger alongside his nose.
“If I knew that I should rate a couple of epaulettes,” he said. “Something’s brewing, and I suppose one of these days we shall know what it is. Until then all that we little victims can do is to play unconscious of our doom. Meanwhile, be careful not to let the ship fall overboard.”
There was no sign of anything brewing while dinner was being eaten in the great cabin of the Indefatigable. Pellew was a courtly host at the head of the table. Conversation flowed freely and along indifferent channels among the senior officers present — the two lieutenants, Eccles and Chadd, and the sailing master, Soames. Hornblower and the other junior officer — Mallory, a midshipman of over two years’ seniority — kept silent, as midshipmen should, thereby being able to devote their undivided attention to the food, so vastly superior to what was served in the midshipmen’s berth.
“A glass of wine with you, Mr Hornblower,” said Pellew, raising his glass.
Hornblower tried to bow gracefully in his seat while raising his glass. He sipped cautiously, for he had early found that he had a weak head, and he disliked feeling drunk.
The table was cleared and there was a brief moment of expectancy as the company awaited Pellew’s next move.
“Now, Mr Soames,” said Pellew, “let us have that chart.”
It was a map of the mouth of the Gironde with the soundings; somebody had pencilled in the positions of the shore batteries.