“Hornblower.”
“I thank you. And now I think we had better, Captain Hornblower, discuss the plans for the extension of my Empire.”
“As you please,” said Hornblower. He felt he must at least agree with this madman until the Lydia was revictualled, although his already faint hope of heading a successful insurrection in this country was fast becoming fainter.
“The Bourbon who calls himself King of Spain,” said el Supremo, “maintains in this country an official who calls himself Captain General of Nicaragua. I sent to this gentleman some time ago a message ordering him to announce his fealty to me. This he had not done, and he was even misguided enough to hang my messenger publicly in Managua. Of the insolent men whom he subsequently sent to secure my divine person some were killed on the road and some died while attached to stakes, while a few were fortunate enough to see the light and are now included in my army. The Captain General is now, I hear, at the head of an army of three hundred men in the city of El Salvador. When you have landed the weapons consigned to me I propose to move on this town, which I shall burn, along with the Captain General and the unenlightened among his men. Perhaps, Captain, you will accompany me? A burning town is worth seeing.”
“My ship must be revictualled first,” said Hornblower, sturdily.
“I have given the orders for that,” replied el Supremo with a trace of impatience.
“And further,” continued Hornblower, “it will be my duty first to ascertain the whereabouts of a Spanish ship of war, the Natividad, which I believe to be on this station. Before I can engage in any operations on land I must see that she can do no harm to my ship. I must either capture her or know for certain that she is too distant to interfere.”
“Then you had better capture her, captain. I expect, from the information I have received, she will be sailing into the bay here at any moment.”
“Then I must go back to my ship immediately,” said Hornblower, all agitation. The possibility that his frigate might be attacked in his absence by a fifty‑gun ship threw him into a seething panic. What would the Lords of the Admiralty say if the Lydia were lost while her captain was on shore?
“There is food being brought in. Behold,” said el Supremo.
The door at the end of the hall was flung open as he spoke. A crowd of attendants began to walk slowly in, carrying a large table covered with silver dishes, and bearing four large silver candelabra each supporting five lighted candles.
“Your pardon, but I cannot wait for food. I must not,” said Hornblower.
“As you will,” said el Supremo indifferently. “Alfonso!”
The negroid major‑domo came forward, bowing.
“See that Captain Hornblower goes back to his ship.”
El Supremo had no sooner spoken the words than he relapsed into an attitude of contemplation. The bustle attendant upon the bringing in of the banquet he allowed to pass unheeded. He did not bestow another glance on Hornblower, who stood before him, regretting already his precipitation in deciding to rejoin his ship, anxious to cause no offense by a breach of good manners, worried by the need to revictual the Lydia, and acutely conscious that his present attitude of uncertainty before a man who was paying him no attention whatever was quite undignified.
“This way, señor,” said Alfonso, at his elbow, while el Supremo still gazed blankly over his head. Hornblower yielded, and followed the major‑domo out to the patio.
Two men and three horses awaited him there, in the half light. Without a word, bewildered by this sudden turn of events, Hornblower set his foot in the linked hands of a half naked slave who knelt at his horse’s side and swung himself up into the saddle. The escort clattered before him out through the gates, and he followed them; night was falling fast.
At the corner of the path the wide bay opened before them. A young moon was fast fading down the sky. A shadowy shape in the centre of the silver water showed where the Lydia swung to her anchor — she, at least, was something solid and matter‑of‑fact in this mad world. Eastward a mountain top suddenly glowed red, illuminating the clouds above it, and then died away into darkness. They rode at a sharp trot down the steep path, past the moaning men tied to the stakes, past the stinking corpses, and into the little town. Here there was neither light nor movement; Hornblower had to leave his horse to the task of following the escort round the corners. The sound of the horses’ hoofs ceased as they reached the soft sand of the beach; and simultaneously he heard the pitiful moaning of the first man he had seen tied to a stake and saw the faint phosphorescence of the edge of the sea.