1Rear Admiral Lord Hornblower, for all his proud appointment as commander-in-chief of His Majesty’s ships and vessels in the West Indies, paid his official visit to New Orleans in H.M. schooner Crab, mounting only two six-pounders and with a crew of no more than sixteen men, not counting supernumeraries.

2His Britannic Majesty’s consul-general at New Orleans, Mr. Cloudesley Sharpe, remarked on the fact.

3“I hardly expected to see your lordship in so diminutive a craft,” he said, looking round him. He had driven down in his carriage to the pier against which Crab was lying, and had sent his liveried footman to the gangway to announce him, and it had been something of an anticlimax to be received by the trilling of the only two bos’n’s calls that Crab could muster, and to find on the quarterdeck to receive him, besides the admiral and his flag lieutenant, a mere lieutenant in command.

4“The exigencies of the service, sir,” explained Hornblower. “But if I may lead the way below, I can offer you whatever hospitality this temporary flagship of mine affords.”

5Mr. Sharpe—surely there never was a name that accorded so ill with its possessor’s figure, for he was a fat man, a mountain of puffy flesh—squeezed himself into a chair at the table in the pleasant little cabin, and replied to Hornblower’s suggestion of breakfast with the statement that he had already broken his fast. He obviously had the gravest doubts as to the quality of any breakfast that could be served in this little ship. Gerard, the flag lieutenant, made himself inconspicuous in a corner of the cabin, notebook and pencil on his knee, while Hornblower reopened the conversation.

6“Phoebe was struck by lightning off Morant Cape,” said Hornblower. “She was the ship I had planned to come in. Clorinda was already in dock, refitting. And Roebuck’s off Curaçao, keeping an eye on the Dutchmen—there’s a brisk trade in arms with Venezuela at present.”

7“Well I know that,” said Sharpe.

8“Those are my three frigates,” said Hornblower. “With the arrangements all made I judged it better to come in this schooner rather than not to come at all.”

9“How are the mighty fallen!” was Mr. Sharpe s comment. “Your lordship, a commander-in-chief, with no more than three frigates and half a dozen sloops and schooners.”

10“Fourteen sloops and schooners, sir,” corrected Hornblower. “They are very desirable craft for the duties I have to perform.”

11“No doubt, my lord,” said Sharpe. “But I can remember the days when the commander-in-chief on the West India Station disposed of a squadron of ships of the line.”

12“That was in time of war, sir,” explained Hornblower, recalling the oral comments of the First Sea Lord in the interview when he had been offered this command. “The House of Commons would sooner allow the Royal Navy to rot at its moorings than reimpose the income tax.”

13“At any rate, your lordship has arrived,” said Sharpe. “Your lordship exchanged salutes with Fort St. Philip?”

14“Gun for gun, as your despatch informed me had been arranged.”

15“Excellent!” said Sharpe.

16It had been a strange little formality; all hands on board Crab had lined the rail very properly during the salute, and the officers had stood at attention on the quarterdeck, but “all hands” amounted to very little, with four men manning the saluting gun, and one at the signal halyards, and one at the helm. It had poured with rain, too; Hornblower’s glittering uniform had clung damply around him.

17“Your lordship made use of the services of a steam tug?”

18“Yes, by George!” exclaimed Hornblower.

19“A remarkable experience for your lordship, apparently?”

20“Indeed, yes,” said Hornblower. “I—”

21He held himself back from giving utterance to all his thoughts on that subject; they would lead to too many exciting irrelevancies. But a steam tug had brought Crab against the hundred miles of current from the sea to New Orleans between dawn and dusk, arriving at the very minute the tug captain had predicted. And here was New Orleans, crowded not merely with ocean-going sailing ships but also with a fleet of long narrow steamers, manoeuvring out into the stream and against piers with a facility—thanks to their two paddle wheels—that even Crab with her handy fore-and-aft rig could not attempt to emulate. And with a thrash of those paddle wheels they would go flying upstream with a rapidity almost unbelievable.

22“Steam has laid open a continent, my lord,” said Sharpe, echoing Hornblower’s thoughts. “A veritable empire. Thousands and thousands of miles of navigable waterways. The population of the Mississippi Valley will be counted in millions within a few years.”

23Hornblower remembered discussions at home, when he was a half-pay officer awaiting his promotion to flag rank, when the “steam kettles” had been mentioned. Even the possibility of ocean-going ships propelled by steam had been suggested, and had been properly laughed to scorn—it would mean the ruin of good seamanship. Hornblower had not been quite so sure on the point, but he had been careful to keep his opinions to himself, having no desire to be regarded as a dangerous crank. He did not want to be drawn into any similar discussions now, not even with a mere civilian.

24“What intelligence do you have for me, sir?” he asked.

25“A considerable amount, my lord.” Mr. Sharpe produced a fold of papers from his tail pocket.

26“Here are the latest advices from New Granada—more recent I expect than anything you have had. The insurgents—”

27Mr. Sharpe entered into a rapid exposition of the military and political situation in Central America. The Spanish colonies were entering into the final stage of their struggle for independence.

28“It cannot be long before His Majesty’s government recognizes that independence,” said Sharpe. “And our minister in Washington informs me that the government of the United States meditates a similar recognition. It remains to be seen what the Holy Alliance will have to say on that score, my lord.”

29Europe under the rule of absolute monarchy would turn a jaundiced eye upon the establishment of a whole new series of republics, no doubt. But it hardly mattered what Europe had to say, as long as the Royal Navy—even the depleted peacetime navy—controlled the seas and the two English-speaking governments continued in amity.

30“Cuba shows small signs of restlessness,” went on Sharpe, “and I have information of the issue of further letters of marque by the Spanish government to vessels sailing from Havana.”

31Letters of marque were one of the principal sources of Hornblower’s troubles. They were being issued by insurgent and nationalist governments alike, to prey upon ships flying the old flags and the new, and the bearers of letters of marque turned pirates in the twinkling of an eye in the absence of legitimate prizes and efficient prize courts. Thirteen of Hornblower’s fourteen small craft were scattered over the Caribbean keeping an eye on the activities of the privateers.

32“I have prepared duplicates of my reports for your lordship’s information,” concluded Sharpe. “I have them here to give to your lordship, along with copies of the complaints of the master mariners concerned.”

33“Thank you, sir,” said Hornblower, while Gerard took the papers into his charge.

34“Now for the slave trade, with your lordship’s permission,” went on Sharpe, opening a fresh series of papers.

35The slave trade was as acute a question as piracy, even more acute in some ways, because the Anti-Slavery Society in England commanded a great deal of powerful and vocal support in both Houses of Parliament, and would raise an even more violent to-do about a cargo of slaves run into Havana or Rio de Janeiro than a shipping company pestered by privateers.

36“At this moment, my lord,” said Sharpe, “a raw hand newly brought from the Slave Coast is selling for eighty pounds in the Havana barracoons, and he costs no more than a pound in trade goods at Whydah. Those profits are tempting, my lord.”

37“Naturally,” said Hornblower.

38“I have reason to believe that ships of both British and American registry are engaged in the traffic, my lord.”

39“So have I.”

40The First Sea Lord had tapped ominously on the table in that interview when touching on this part of his instructions to Hornblower. Under the new law, British subjects who engaged in the slave trade could be hanged and their ships seized. But care would be necessary in dealing with ships flying American colours. If they refused to heave-to on the high seas for examination, the utmost tact would have to be employed. To shoot away an American spar or to kill an American citizen would mean trouble. America had gone to war with England only nine years before over matters very similar.

41“We want no trouble, my lord,” said Sharpe. He had a pair of hard intelligent grey eyes deep set in his puffy face.

42“I am aware of that, sir.”

43“And in this connection, my lord, I must employ special emphasis in calling your lordship’s attention to a vessel making ready for sea here in New Orleans.”

44“Which ship is this?”

45“She is visible from the deck, my lord. In fact—” Sharpe struggled out of his chair and walked to the cabin window. “Yes, there she is. What do you make of her, my lord?”

46Hornblower looked out from beside Sharpe. He saw a beautiful ship of eight hundred tons or more. Her fine lines, the lofty rake of her masts, the wide spread of her yards were all clear indications of speed, for which some sacrifice of cargo-carrying capacity had been made. She was flush-decked, with six painted gunports along each side. American shipbuilders had always evinced a tendency toward building fast ships, but this was an advanced example of the type.

47“Are there guns behind those ports?” asked Hornblower.

48“Twelve-pounders, my lord.”

49Even in these days of peace, it was not unusual for merchant vessels to carry guns, whether for voyages in the West Indies or the East, but this was a heavier armament than usual.

50“She was built as a privateer,” said Hornblower.

51“Quite right, my lord. She’s the Daring; she was built during the war and made one voyage and took six prizes from us before the Treaty of Ghent. And now, my lord?”

52“She could be a slaver.”

53“Your lordship is right again, of course.”

54That heavy armament would be desirable in a slaver anchoring up a West African river, liable to a treacherous attack; she could easily have a slave deck with that flush build; her speed would minimize deaths among the slaves during the middle passage; her lack of capacity for bulk cargo would be unimportant in a slaver.

55“Is she a slaver?” asked Hornblower.

56“Apparently not, my lord, despite her appearance. She is being chartered to carry a great many men, all the same.”

57“I would like you to explain further, if you please, Mr. Sharpe.”

58“I can only tell your lordship the facts as disclosed to me. She is under charter to a French general, Count Cambronne.”

59“Cambronne? Cambronne? The man who commanded the Imperial Guard at Waterloo?”

60“That’s the man, my lord.”

61“The man who said, ‘The Old Guard dies, but does not surrender’?”

62“Yes, my lord, although report says he actually used a ruder expression. He was wounded and taken prisoner, but he did not die.”

63“So I have heard. But what does he want with this ship?”

64“It is all open and aboveboard, apparently. After the war, Boney’s Old Guard formed an organization for mutual aid. In 1816 they decided to become colonists. Your lordship must have heard something about the project?”

65“Hardly anything.”

66“They came out and seized an area of land on the coast of Texas, the province of Mexico adjacent to this state of Louisiana.”

67“I have heard about it, but that is the extent of my knowledge.”

68“It was easy enough to start, with Mexico in the throes of her revolt against Spain. There was no opposition to them, as you understand, my lord. But it was not so easy to continue. I cannot imagine that soldiers of the Old Guard would ever make good agriculturists. And on that pestilential coast—it is a series of dreary lagoons, with hardly an inhabitant.”

69“The scheme failed?”

70“As your lordship might expect. Half of them died of malaria and yellow fever, and half of the rest simply starved. Cambronne has come out from France to carry the survivors home, five hundred of them. The government of the United States never liked the project, as your lordship can imagine, and now the insurgent government is strong enough to take exception to the presence on the shores of Mexico of a large body of trained soldiers, however peaceable their intentions. Your lordship can see Cambronne’s story could be perfectly true.”

71“Yes.”

72An eight-hundred-ton ship equipped as a slaver could pack five hundred soldiers on board and feed them during a long passage.

73“Cambronne is stocking her largely with rice and water—slave rations, my lord, but the best adapted to the purpose for that very reason.”

74The slave trade had had long experience of how to keep alive a close-packed body of men.

75“If Cambronne is going to take them back to France, I should do nothing to hinder him,” said Hornblower. “Rather on the contrary.”

76“Exactly, my lord.”

77Sharpe’s grey eyes met Hornblower’s in an expressionless stare. The presence of five hundred trained soldiers afloat in the Gulf of Mexico was very much the concern of the British admiral commanding-in-chief, when the shores of the Gulf and of the Caribbean were in as much of a turmoil as at present. Bolívar and the other Spanish-American insurgents would pay a high price for their services in the present war. Or someone might be meditating the conquest of Haiti or a piratical descent upon Havana. Any sort of filibustering expedition was possible. The actual Bourbon government in France might be looking for a pie in which to put a finger, for that matter, a chance to snap up a colony and confront the English-speaking powers with a fait accompli.

78“I’ll keep my eye on them until they are safely out of the way,” said Hornblower.

79“I have called your lordship’s attention officially to the matter,” said Sharpe.

80It would be one more drain upon Hornblower’s limited resources for the policing of the Caribbean; he already was wondering which of his few craft he could detach to observe the Gulf Coast.

81“And now, my lord,” said Sharpe, “it is my duty to discuss the details of your lordship’s stay here in New Orleans. I have arranged a program of official calls for your lordship. Does your lordship speak French?”

82“Yes,” said Hornblower, fighting down the urge to say, “My lordship does.”

83“That is excellent, because French is commonly spoken among good society here. Your lordship will, of course, be calling upon the naval authorities here, and upon the governor. There is an evening reception planned for your lordship. My carriage is, of course, at your lordship’s disposition.”

84“That is extremely kind of you, sir.”

85“No kindness at all, my lord. It is a great pleasure to me to assist in making your lordship’s visit to New Orleans as enjoyable as possible. I have here a list of the prominent people your lordship will meet, along with brief notes regarding them. Perhaps it might be as well if I explain it to your lordship’s flag lieutenant?”

86“Certainly,” said Hornblower; he was able now to relax his attention a little; Gerard was a good flag lieutenant and had supported his commander-in-chief very satisfactorily during the ten months that Hornblower had held command. He supplied some of the social flair that Hornblower was too indifferent to acquire. The business was rapidly settled.

87“Very well, then, my lord,” said Sharpe. “Now I can take my leave. I will have the pleasure of seeing your lordship again at the governor’s house.”

88“I am deeply obliged to you, sir.”

89This city of New Orleans was an enchanting place. Hornblower was bubbling internally with excitement at the prospect of exploring it. Nor was he the only one, as appeared as soon as Sharpe had taken his leave, when Lieutenant Harcourt, captain of the Crab, intercepted Hornblower on the quarterdeck.

90“Pardon, my lord,” he said, saluting. “Are there any orders for me?”

91There could be no doubt about what Harcourt had in mind. Forward of the mainmast most of the crew of Crab were congregated, looking eagerly aft; in a tiny ship like this, everyone was aware of everyone else’s business, and discipline ran on lines different from those in a big ship.

92“Can you trust your men to be steady on shore, Mr. Harcourt?” asked Hornblower.

93“Yes, my lord.”

94Hornblower looked forward again. The hands looked remarkably smart; they had been labouring on making new clothes for themselves all the way from Kingston, from the moment when it was announced that Crab would have the astonishing distinction of flying the admiral’s flag. They were wearing neat blue frock jumpers and white ducks and shady straw hats; Hornblower saw their self-conscious poses as he glanced toward them—they knew perfectly well what was being discussed. These were peacetime sailors, voluntarily enlisted; Hornblower had had twenty years of wartime service with pressed crews who could never be trusted not to desert, and even now he had consciously to adjust his mind to the change.

95“If you could give me notice of when you intend to sail, sir—I mean, my lord—” said Harcourt.

96“Until dawn tomorrow in any case,” said Hornblower, coming to a sudden decision; his day was full until then.

97“Aye aye, my lord.”

98Would the grogshops of New Orleans’ water-front be any different from the grogshops of Kingston or Port of Spain?

99“Now perhaps I can have my breakfast, Mr. Gerard,” said Hornblower. “Unless you have any objection?”

100“Aye aye, my lord,” answered Gerard, carefully ignoring the sarcasm. He had long learned that his admiral objected to nothing in the world as much as having to be active before breakfast.

101It was after breakfast that a Negro, trotting barefooted along the pier, came bearing on his head a basket of fruit, which he handed in at the gangway at the moment when Hornblower was about to start off on his official round of calls.

102“There’s a note with it, my lord,” said Gerard. “Shall I open it?”

103“Yes.”

104“It is from Mr. Sharpe,” reported Gerard, after breaking the seal, and then, some seconds later, “I think you had better read this yourself, my lord.”

105Hornblower took the thing impatiently. The note read:

106My Lord:

107I have imposed upon myself the pleasure of sending some fruit to your lordship.

108It is my duty to inform your lordship that I have just received information that the freight which Count Cambronne brought out here from France, and which has been lying in bond in charge of the United States customs service, will shortly be transferred by lighter through the agency of a bonded carrier to the Daring. As your lordship will, of course, understand, this is an indication that the Daring will be sailing soon. My information is that the amount of bonded freight is very considerable, and I am endeavouring to discover in what it consists. Perhaps your lordship might, from your lordship’s coign of vantage, find an opportunity of observing the nature of this freight.

109I am, with great respect,

110Your lordship’s humble and

111obedient servant,

112Cloudesley Sharpe,

113H.B.M.’s Consul General at New Orleans

114Now what could Cambronne have possibly brought from France in large amount that could be legitimately needed for the purpose he had avowed when he chartered the Daring? Not personal effects, certainly. Not food or liquor—he could pick those up cheaply in New Orleans. Then what? Warm-weather clothing would be a possible explanation. Those guardsmen might well need it when returning to France from the Gulf of Mexico. It was possible. But a French general, with five hundred men of the Imperial Guard at his disposal, would bear the closest watching when the Caribbean was in such a turmoil. It would be a great help to know what kind of freight he was shipping.

115“Mr. Harcourt!”

116“Sir—my lord!”

117“I would like your company in the cabin for a moment, if you please.”

118The young lieutenant stood at attention in the cabin a little apprehensively, waiting to hear what his admiral had to say.

119“This isn’t a reprimand, Mr. Harcourt,” said Hornblower testily. “Not even an admonition.”

120“Thank you, my lord,” said Harcourt, relaxing.

121Hornblower took him to the cabin window and pointed out through it, just as Sharpe had done previously.

122“That’s the Daring,” he said. “An ex-privateer, now under charter to a French general.”

123Harcourt looked his astonishment.

124“That is the case,” went on Hornblower. “And today she will be taking on some cargo out of bond. It will be brought round to her out of bond by lighter.”

125“Yes, my lord.”

126“I want to know as much about that cargo as possible.”

127“Yes, my lord.”

128“Naturally, I do not want the world to know that I am interested. I want nobody to know unnecessarily.”

129“Yes, my lord. I could use a telescope from here and see a good deal, with luck.”

130“Very true. You can take note of whether it is bales or boxes or bags. How many there are of each. From the tackle employed, you can guess at the weights. You can do all that.”

131“Aye aye, my lord.”

132“Make careful note of all you see.”

133“Aye aye, my lord.”

134Hornblower fixed his eyes on his youthful flag lieutenant’s face, trying to estimate his discretion. He remembered so well the emphatic words of the First Sea Lord regarding the necessity for the utmost tenderness regarding American susceptibilities. Hornblower decided the young man could be trusted.

135“Now, Mr. Harcourt,” he said, “pay special attention to what I have to say. The more I know about that cargo the better. But don’t go at it like a bull at a gate. Should an opportunity present itself for finding out what it is, you must seize upon it. I can’t imagine what that opportunity may be, but opportunities come to those who are ready for them.”

136Long, long ago, Barbara had said to him that good fortune is the portion of those who merit it.

137“I understand, my lord.”

138“If the slightest hint of this gets out—if the Americans or the French get to know what you are doing—you will be sorry you were ever born, Mr. Harcourt.”

139“Yes, my lord.”

140“I’ve no use for a dashing young officer in this connection, Mr. Harcourt. I want someone with ingenuity, someone with cunning. You are sure you understand?”

141“Yes, my lord.”

142Hornblower at last took his eyes from Harcourt’s face. He himself had been a dashing young officer once. Now he had far more sympathy than ever before with the older men who had entrusted him with enterprises. A senior officer had perforce to trust his juniors, while still carrying the ultimate responsibility. If Harcourt should blunder, if he should be guilty of some indiscretion leading to a diplomatic protest, it would certainly be true that he might wish he had never been born; Hornblower would see to that. But Hornblower would be wishing he himself had never been born, too. But there was no useful purpose to be served in pointing that out.

143“That is all, then, Mr. Harcourt.”

144“Aye aye, sir.”

145“Come on, Mr. Gerard. We’re late already.”

146* * *

147The upholstery of Mr. Sharpe’s carriage was of green satin, and the carriage was admirably sprung, so that, although it lurched and swayed over the uneven street surfaces, it did not jolt or jerk. Yet after five minutes of lurching and swaying—the carriage had been standing for some time in the hot May sun—Hornblower felt himself turning as green as the upholstery. The Rue Royale, the Place d’Armes, the cathedral received hardly a glance from him. He welcomed the halts despite the fact that each halt meant a formal meeting with strangers—the kind of meeting he disliked most heartily. He stood and gulped in the humid air during the blessed moments between descending from the carriage and entering in under the ornate porticoes that stood to welcome him. It had never occurred to him before that an admiral’s full-dress uniform might with advantage be made of something thinner than broadcloth, and he had worn his broad red ribbon and his glittering star far too often by now to feel the slightest pleasure in displaying it.

148At the naval headquarters he drank an excellent Madeira; the general gave him a heavy Marsala; at the governor’s mansion he was given a tall drink which had been iced—presumably with ice sent down during the winter from New England and preserved in an ice house until nearly at midsummer it was more precious than gold—extraordinarily, to the point where actual frost was visible on the tumbler. The delicious cold contents of that tumbler disappeared rapidly, and the tumbler was as rapidly refilled.

149He checked himself abruptly when he found himself talking a little too loudly and dogmatically regarding some point of trivial importance. He was glad to catch Gerard’s eye and withdraw as gracefully as he could; he was also glad that Gerard seemed perfectly cool and sober and had charge of the card case, dropping the necessary number of cards into the silver trays that the Negro butlers held out to receive them. By the time he reached Sharpe’s house he was glad to see a friendly face—friendly even though it was only that morning that he had first set eyes on it.

150“It is an hour before the guests are due to arrive, my lord,” said Sharpe. “Would your lordship care for a short rest?”

151“I would indeed,” said Hornblower.

152Mr. Sharpe’s house had a contrivance which merited much attention. It was a douche bath—Hornblower knew only the French name for it. It was in a corner of the bathroom, floored and walled with the most excellent teak; from the ceiling hung an apparatus of perforated zinc, and from this hung a bronze chain. When Hornblower stood under this apparatus and pulled the chain, a deluge of delicious cold water came streaming down on him from some unseen reservoir above. It was as refreshing as ever it had been to stand under the wash-deck pump on the deck of a ship at sea, with the additional advantage of employing fresh water; and in his present condition, after his experiences of the day, it was doubly refreshing. Hornblower stood under the raining water for a long time, reviving with every second. He made a mental note to install a similar contrivance at Smallbridge House if ever he found himself at home again.

153A Negro valet in livery stood by with towels to save him from the reheating exertion of drying himself, and while he was being dabbed, a knock at the door heralded Gerard’s entrance.

154“I sent to the ship for a fresh shirt for you, my lord,” he said.

155Gerard was really displaying intelligence; Hornblower put on the fresh shirt with gratitude, but it was with distaste that he tightened his stock and pulled on his heavy uniform coat again. He hung the red ribbon over his shoulder, adjusted his star, and was ready to face the next situation.

156The darkness of evening was descending, but it had not brought much relief from the heat; on the contrary, the drawing room of Mr. Sharpe’s house was brightly lit with wax candles that made it feel like an oven. Sharpe was awaiting him, wearing a black coat; his ruffled shirt made his bulky form appear larger than ever. Mrs. Sharpe, sweeping in in turquoise blue, was of much the same size; she curtseyed deeply in response to Hornblower’s bow when Sharpe presented him, and made him welcome to the house in a French whose soft tang rang pleasantly on Hornblower’s ears.

157“A little refreshment, my lord?” asked Sharpe.

158“Not at present, thank you, sir,” said Hornblower hastily.

159“We are expecting twenty-eight guests besides your lordship and Mr. Gerard,” said Sharpe. “Some of them your lordship already met during your lordship’s official calls today. In addition there are—”

160Hornblower did his best to keep the list of names in his mind with mental labels attached. Gerard, who came in and found himself a secluded chair, listened intently.

161“And there will be Cambronne, of course,” said Sharpe.

162“Indeed?”

163“I could hardly give a dinner party of this magnitude without inviting the most distinguished foreign visitor, after your lordship, present in this city.”

164“Of course not,” agreed Hornblower.

165Yet six years of peace had hardly stilled the prejudices established during twenty years of war. There was something a little unnatural about the prospect of meeting a French general on friendly terms, especially the late commander-in-chief of Bonaparte’s Imperial Guard, and the meeting might be a little strained because Bonaparte was under lock and key in St. Helena and complaining bitterly about it.

166“The French consul-general will accompany him,” said Sharpe. “And there will be the Dutch consul-general, the Swedish—”

167The list seemed interminable; there was only just time to complete it before the first of the guests was announced. Substantial citizens and their substantial wives; the naval and military officers whom he had already met, and their ladies; the diplomatic officers; soon even that vast drawing room was crowded, men bowing and women curtseying. Hornblower straightened up from a bow to find Sharpe at his elbow again.

168“I have the honour of making two distinguished figures acquainted with each other,” he said in French. “Son Excellence Contre-Amiral milord Hornblower, Chevalier de l’Ordre Militaire du Bain. Son Excellence le Lieutenant Général le Comte de Cambronne, Grand Cordon de la Légion d’Honneur.”

169Hornblower could not help being impressed, even at this moment, at the neat way in which Sharpe had evaded the thorny question of whom to introduce to whom, a French general and count, and an English admiral and peer. Cambronne was an immensely tall beanpole of a man. Across one lean cheek and the beaky nose ran a purple scar—perhaps the wound he had received at Waterloo; perhaps a wound received at Austerlitz or Jena or any other of the battles in which the French army had overthrown nations. He was wearing a blue uniform covered with gold lace, girt about with the red watered-silk ribbon of the Légion of Honor, a vast plaque of gold on his left breast.

170“Enchanted to make your acquaintance, sir,” said Hornblower in his best French.

171“No more enchanted than I am to make yours, milord,” replied Cambronne. He had a cold green-grey eye with a twinkle in it; a grey cat’s-whisker moustache adorned his upper lip.

172“The Baroness de Vautour,” said Sharpe. “The Baron de Vautour, His Most Christian Majesty’s consul-general.”

173Hornblower bowed and said again that he was enchanted. His Most Christian Majesty was Louis XVIII of France, using the papal title conferred on his house centuries earlier.

174“The count is being mischievous,” said Vautour. He indicated Cambronne’s star. “He is wearing the Grand Eagle, given him during the last regime. Officially the Grand Cordon has been substituted, as our host very properly said.”

175Vautour called attention to his own star, a more modest affair. Cambronne’s displayed an immense eagle of gold, the badge of the now-defunct French Empire.

176“I won this on the field of battle,” said Cambronne.

177“Don Alphonso de Versage,” said Sharpe. “His Most Catholic Majesty’s consul-general.”

178This was the representative of Spain, then. A word or two with him regarding this pending cession of Florida might be informative, but Hornblower had hardly time to exchange formal courtesies before another presentation was being made. It was some time before Hornblower had a breathing space, and could look round the pretty scene in the candlelight, with the uniforms and the broadcloth coats, the bare arms and shoulders of the women in their bright gowns and flashing jewelry, and the two Sharpes moving unobtrusively through the throng, marshalling their guests in order of precedence. The entrance of the governor and his lady was the signal for the announcement of dinner.

179The dining room was as vast as the drawing room; the table with covers for thirty-two stood comfortably in it, with ample room all round for the numerous footmen. The candlelight was more subdued here, but it glittered impressively on the silver which crowded the long table. Hornblower, seated between the governor’s lady and Mrs. Sharpe, reminded himself that he must be alert and careful regarding his table manners; it was the more necessary to be alert because he had to speak French on one side of him and English on the other. He looked dubiously at the six different wine glasses that stood at each place—the sherry was already being poured into the first of the glasses. He could see Cambronne seated between two pretty girls and obviously making himself pleasant to both of them. He did not look as if he had a care in the world; if he was meditating a filibustering expedition, it did not weigh very heavily on his mind.

180A steaming plate of turtle soup arrived, thick with gobbets of green fat. This was to be a dinner served in the Continental fashion which had come in after Waterloo, with no hodgepodge of dishes set out on the table for the guests to help themselves. He spooned cautiously at the hot soup and applied himself to making small talk with his dinner partners.

181Dish succeeded dish, and soon he had to face in the hot room the delicate question of etiquette as to whether it was more ungentlemanly to mop the sweat from his face or to leave it there, flowing and visible; his discomfort decided him in the end to mop, furtively. Now Sharpe was catching his eye, and he had to rise to his feet, striving to make his stupefied brain work while the buzz of conversation died down. He raised his glass.

182“The President of the United States,” he said; he had been about to continue, idiotically, “Long may he reign.” He checked himself with a jerk and went on, “Long may the great nation of which he is President enjoy prosperity and the international amity of which this gathering is symbolic.”

183The toast was drunk with acclaim, with nothing said about the fact that over half the continent Spaniards and Spanish-Americans were busy killing one another. He sat down and mopped again. Now Cambronne was on his feet.

184“His Britannic Majesty George the Fourth, King of Great Britain and Ireland.”

185The toast was drunk, and now it was Hornblower’s turn again, as evidenced by Sharpe’s glance. He stood up, glass in hand, and began the long list: “His Most Christian Majesty. His Most Catholic Majesty. His Most Faithful Majesty.” That disposed of France and Spain and Portugal. “His Majesty the King of the Netherlands.”

186For the life of him he could not remember who came next. But Gerard caught his despairing eye and gave a significant jerk of his thumb.

187“His Majesty the King of Sweden,” gulped Hornblower. “His Majesty the King of Prussia.”

188A reassuring nod from Gerard told him that he had now included all the nations represented, and he plucked the rest of his speech out from the whirlpool of his mind.

189“Long may their majesties reign, in increasing honour and glory.”

190Well, that was over, and he could sit down again. But now the governor was on his feet, speaking in rhetorical phrases, and it broke in upon Hornblower’s dulled intelligence that his own health was the next to be drunk. He tried to listen. He was aware of keen glances shot at him from around the table when the governor alluded to the defence of this city of New Orleans from the “misguided hordes” who had assailed it in vain—the allusion was perhaps inevitable even though it was over six years since the battle—and he tried to force a smile. At long last the governor reached his end.

191“His lordship, Admiral Hornblower, and I couple with his name a toast to the British navy.”

192Hornblower climbed back upon his feet as the approving murmur of the company died down.

193“Thank you for this unexpected honour,” he said, and gulped as he sought for further words. “And to have my name coupled with that of the great navy in which it has been my privilege to serve so long is an additional honour for which to thank you.”

194The ladies were all rising, now that he had sat down, and he stood again while they withdrew. The highly trained footmen swept the table clear of its accessories in a trice, and the men gathered at one end of the table as the decanter was put into circulation. The glasses were filled as Sharpe brought one of the merchants present into the conversation with a question about the cotton crop. It was safe ground from which to make brief and cautious sorties upon the much more debatable ground of world conditions. But only a few minutes later the butler came in and murmured something to Sharpe, who turned to convey the news he brought to the French consul-general. Vautour rose to his feet with an expression of dismay.

195“Perhaps you will accept my excuses, sir,” he said. “I much regret the necessity.”

196“No more than I regret it, Baron,” said Sharpe. “I trust it is only a slight indisposition.”

197“I trust so,” said Vautour.

198“The Baroness finds herself indisposed,” explained Sharpe to the company. “I am sure you gentlemen will all join me in hoping, as I said, that the indisposition is slight, and regretting that it involves the loss to us of the Baron’s charming company.”

199There was a sympathetic murmur, and Vautour turned to Cambronne.

200“Shall I send back the carriage for you, Count?” he asked.

201Cambronne pulled at his cat’s-whisker moustache. “Perhaps it might be better if I came with you,” he said. “Much as I regret leaving this delightful assembly.”

202The two Frenchmen took their leave, after polite farewells.

203“It is a great pleasure having made your acquaintance, milord,” said Cambronne, bowing to Hornblower. The stiffness of his bow was mitigated by the twinkle in his eye.

204“It has been a profound experience to meet so distinguished a soldier of the late empire,” replied Hornblower.

205The Frenchmen were escorted out of the room by Sharpe, voluble in his regrets.

206“Your glasses need refilling, gentlemen,” said Sharpe on his return.

207There was nothing Hornblower disliked more than drinking large glasses of port in a hot and humid room, even though he now found himself free to discuss the Florida question with the Spanish consul-general. He was glad when Sharpe made the move to rejoin the ladies. Somewhere within earshot of the drawing room a string orchestra was playing, but luckily in a subdued manner, so that Hornblower was spared much of the irritation that he usually suffered when he was compelled to listen to music with his tone-deaf ear.

208He found himself sitting next to one of the pretty young women beside whom Cambronne had been sitting at dinner. In reply to her questions, he was forced to admit that on this, his first day, he had seen almost nothing of the city of New Orleans, but the admission led to a discussion of other places he had visited. Two cups of coffee, poured for him by a footman passing round the drawing room, cleared his head a little; the young woman was attentive and listened well, and nodded sympathetically when the conversation revealed that Hornblower had left behind, at the call of duty, a wife and a ten-year-old son in England.

209Gradually the night wore on, and at last the governor and his lady rose to their feet and the party was over. There were the last few weary minutes of awkward conversation as the carriages were announced one by one, and then Sharpe returned to the drawing room after escorting the last of the guests to the door.

210“A successful evening, I fancy. I trust your lordship agrees with me,” he said, and turned to his wife. “But I must ask you, my dear, to remember to reprimand Grover about the soufflé.”

211The entry of the butler with another murmured message prevented Mrs. Sharpe’s reply.

212“Your lordship’s pardon for a moment,” said Sharpe. He wore an expression of dismay and hastened out of the room, leaving Hornblower and Gerard to begin polite words of thanks to his hostess for his pleasant evening.

213“Cambronne’s stolen a march on us!” exclaimed Sharpe, returning with a rapid waddle. “Daring left her mooring three hours ago! Cambronne must have gone on board her the moment he left here.” He swung round on his wife. “Was the Baroness really ill?” he demanded of her.

214“She seemed decidedly faint,” replied Mrs. Sharpe.

215“It must have been all a plant,” said Sharpe. “She was acting. Cambronne put the Vautours up to it because he wanted a chance to get clear away.”

216“What do you think he means to do?” asked Hornblower.

217“God knows. But I expect he was disconcerted by the arrival of a King’s ship here. His leaving in this fashion means he’s up to no good. San Domingo—Cartagena—where’ll he take that Imperial Guard of his?”

218“I’ll get after him in any case,” said Hornblower, rising to his feet.

219“You’ll find it hard to overtake him,” said Sharpe—the fact that he said “you” and not “your lordship” was a proof of his agitation. “He has taken two tugs—the Lightning and the Star—and with the new lighthouses on the river a galloping horse wouldn’t overtake him before he reaches the pass. He’ll be clear out to sea by daylight. I don’t know if we can find a tug for you tonight in any case, my lord.”

220“I’ll start after him, all the same,” said Hornblower.

221“I’ve ordered the carriage round, my lord,” said Sharpe. . . . “Forgive us, my dear, if we leave without ceremony.”