1Here where the trade winds blew at their freshest, just within the tropics, in the wide unbroken Atlantic, was, as Hornblower decided at that moment, the finest stretch of water for a yachting excursion to be found anywhere on the globe. This was nothing more than a yachting excursion, to his mind. Only recently he had emerged from a profound spiritual experience during which the peace of the whole world had depended on his judgment; by comparison it seemed now as if the responsibilities of being commander-in-chief on the West Indian Station were mere nothings. He stood on the quarterdeck of His Britannic Majesty’s frigate Clorinda, balancing easily as she reached to windward under moderate sail, and allowed the morning sunshine to stream down on him and the trade wind to blow round his ears. With the pitch and the roll as Clorinda shouldered against the sea the shadows of the weather-rigging swooped back and forth over the deck; when she took a roll to windward, towards the nearly level morning sun, the shadows of the ratlines of the mizzen shrouds flicked across his eyes in rapid succession, hypnotically adding to his feeling of well-being. To be a commander-in-chief, with nothing more to worry about than the suppression of the slave trade, the hunting down of piracy, and the policing of the Caribbean, was an experience more pleasant than any emperor, or even any poet, could ever know. The bare-legged seamen washing down the decks were laughing and joking; the level sun was calling up dazzling rainbows in the spray flung up by the weather-bow; and he could have breakfast at any moment that he wanted it—standing here on the quarterdeck he was finding additional pleasure in anticipation and wantonly postponing that moment.

2The appearance of Captain Sir Thomas Fell on the quarterdeck took something away from the feeling of well-being. Sir Thomas was a gloomy lantern-jawed individual who would feel it his bounden duty to come and be polite to his admiral, and who would never have the sensitivity to be aware when his presence was undesired.

3“Good morning, my lord,” said the captain, touching his hat.

4“Good morning, Sir Thomas,” replied Hornblower, returning the salute.

5“A fine fresh morning, my lord.”

6“Yes, indeed.”

7Sir Thomas was looking over his ship with a captain’s eye, along the decks, up aloft, and then turning aft to observe where, right astern, a smudgy line on the horizon marked the position of the hills of Puerto Rico. Hornblower suddenly realized that he wanted his breakfast more than anything on earth; and simultaneously he realized that he now could not gratify that desire as instantaneously as a commander-in-chief should be able to. There were limitations of politeness that constrained even a commander-in-chief—or that constrained him, at least. He could not turn away and go below without exchanging a few more sentences with Fell.

8“Maybe we’ll catch something today, my lord,” said Fell; instinctively with the words the eyes of both men turned aloft to where a lookout sat perched up at the dizzy height of the main topgallant masthead.

9“Let’s hope we do,” said Hornblower, and, because he had never succeeded in liking Fell, and because the last thing he wanted to do was to enter into a technical discussion before breakfast, he blundered on so as to conceal these feelings. “It’s likely enough.”

10“The Spaniards will want to run every cargo they can before the convention’s signed,” said Fell.

11“So we decided,” agreed Hornblower. Rehashing old decisions before breakfast was not to his taste, but it was typical of Fell to do that.

12“And this is the landfall they’d make,” went on Fell remorselessly, glancing astern again at Puerto Rico on the horizon.

13“Yes,” said Hornblower. Another minute or two of this pointless conversation and he would be free to escape below.

14Fell took the speaking trumpet and directed it upwards.

15“Masthead, there! Keep a good lookout or I’ll know the reason why!”

16“Aye aye, sir!” came the reply.

17“Head money, my lord,” said Fell, in apologetic explanation.

18“We all find it useful,” answered Hornblower politely.

19Head money was paid by the British government for slaves freed on the high seas to the Royal Naval ships concerned in the capture of the slaves, and divided among the ships’ company like any other prize money. It was a small fund compared with the gigantic sums acquired during the great wars, but at five pounds a head a big capture could bring in a substantial sum to the ship making the capture. And of that substantial sum one-quarter went to the captain. On the other hand, one-eighth went to the admiral commanding, wherever he happened to be. Hornblower with twenty ships at sea under his command was entitled to one-eighth of all their head money. It was a system of division which explained how during the great wars the admirals commanding the Channel Fleet or in the Mediterranean became millionaires, like Lord Keith.

20“No one could find it more useful than I, my lord,” said Fell.

21“Maybe,” said Hornblower.

22Hornblower knew vaguely that Fell was in difficulties about money. He had had many years of half-pay since Waterloo, and even now as captain of a fifth-rate his pay and allowances were less than twenty pounds a month—lucky though he was, in peacetime, to have command even of a fifth-rate. He had had experience himself of being a poor captain, of wearing cotton stockings instead of silk, and brass epaulettes instead of gold. But he had no desire whatever to discuss the Tables of Personal Pay before breakfast.

23“Lady Fell, my lord,” went on Fell persistently, “has a position to maintain in the world.”

24She was an extravagant woman, so Hornblower had heard.

25“Let’s hope we have some luck today, then,” said Hornblower, still thinking about breakfast.

26It was a melodramatic coincidence that at that very moment a hail came down from the masthead.

27“Sail ho! Sail right to wind’ard!”

28“Perhaps that’s what we’re waiting for, Sir Thomas,” said Hornblower.

29“As likely as not, my lord. Masthead, there! How’s the sail heading? Mr. Sefton, bring the ship to the wind.”

30Hornblower backed away to the weather-rail. He felt he could never grow used to his situation as admiral, and having to stand by and be no more than an interested spectator while the ship he was in was being handled at decisive moments. It was quite painful to be a spectator, but it would be more painful still to go below and remain in ignorance of what was going on—and much more painful than to postpone breakfast again.

31“Deck, there! She’s a two-master. Heading straight down for us. All sail to the royals. Captain, sir, she’s a schooner! A big schooner, sir. Still running down for us.”

32Young Gerard, the flag lieutenant, had come running on deck, at the first hail from the masthead, to his place beside his admiral.

33“A tops’l schooner,” he said. “A big one. She could be what we’re looking for, my lord.”

34“Plenty of other things she could be,” said Hornblower, doing his best to conceal his absurd excitement.

35Gerard had his telescope pointing to windward.

36“There she is! Coming down fast, right enough. Look at the rake of those masts! Look at the cut of those tops’ls! My lord, she’s no Island schooner.”

37It would not be a very remarkable coincidence if she should be a slaver; he had brought Clorinda here to the windward of San Juan in the full expectation that slave cargoes would be hurrying here. Spain was meditating joining in the suppression of the slave trade, and every slaver would be tempted to run cargoes and take advantage of enhanced prices before the prohibition should take effect. The main slave market for the Spanish colonies was at Havana, a thousand miles to leeward, but it could be looked upon as certain that Spanish slavers, making their passage from the Slave Coast, would touch first at Puerto Rico to refill with water if not to dispose of part of their cargo. It had only been logical to station Clorinda to intercept them.

38Hornblower took the telescope and trained it on the fast-nearing schooner. He saw what Gerard had spoken about. Hull up now, he could see how heavily sparred she was, and how built for speed. With those fine lines it would only pay for her to carry highly perishable cargo—human cargo. As he looked he saw the rectangles of her square sails narrow vertically; the small distance between her masts widened greatly. She was wheeling away from the waiting Clorinda—a final proof, if any was needed, that she was what she appeared to be. Laying herself on the starboard tack, she proceeded to keep at a safe distance, and to increase that distance as fast as possible.

39“Mr. Sefton!” shouted Fell. “Fill the main tops’l! After her, on the starboard tack! Set the royals!”

40In an orderly and disciplined rush some of the hands hurried to the braces while others scurried aloft to set more sail. It was only a matter of moments before Clorinda, as close-hauled as she would lie, was thrashing to windward in pursuit. With everything braced up sharp, and carrying every inch of sail that the brisk trade wind would allow, she lay steeply over, plunging through the sea, each wave in turn bursting on her weather-bow with the spray flying aft in sheets, and the taut weather-rigging shrieking in the wind. It was a remarkable transition from the quiet that had reigned not so long ago.

41“Hoist the colours,” ordered Fell. “Let’s see what she says she is.”

42Through the telescope Hornblower watched the schooner hoist her colours in reply—the red and yellow of Spain.

43“You see, my lord?” asked Fell.

44“Pardon, Cap’n,” interposed Sefton, the officer of the watch. “I know who she is. I saw her twice last commission. She’s the Estrella.”

45“The Australia?” exclaimed Fell, mishearing Sefton’s Spanish pronunciation.

46“The Estrella, sir. The Estrella del Sur—the Star of the South, sir.”

47“I know about her, then,” said Hornblower. “Her captain’s Gomez—runs four hundred slaves every passage, if he doesn’t lose too many.”

48“Four hundred!” repeated Fell.

49Hornblower saw a momentary calculating look pass over Fell’s face. Five pounds a head meant two thousand pounds; a quarter of that was five hundred pounds. Two years’ pay at one swoop. Fell darted glances aloft and overside.

50“Keep your luff, there!” he shouted at the helmsman. “Mr. Sefton! Hands to the bowlines, there, for’rard.”

51“She’s weathering on us,” said Gerard, the glass to his eye.

52It was really only to be expected that a well-designed schooner would work to windward more efficiently than even the best of square-rigged frigates.

53“She’s forereaching on us, too,” said Hornblower, gauging the distances and angles. She was not only lying closer to the wind but travelling faster through the water. Very little faster, it was true—a knot or perhaps two knots—but enough to render her safe from Clorinda’s pursuit.

54“I’ll have her yet!” said Fell. “Mr. Sefton! Call all hands! Run out the guns on the weather-side. Mr. James! Find Mr. Noakes. Tell him to start the water. Hands to the pumps, Mr. Sefton! Pump her dry.”

55Hands came pouring up through the hatchways. With the gunports opened the guns’ crews flung their weight on the gun tackles, inch by inch dragging the guns on the weather-side up the steep slope presented by the heeling deck. The rumble of the wooden wheels over the seams of the planking made a stirring sound; it had been the preliminary of many a desperate fight in the old days. Now the guns were merely being run out in order to keep the ship on a slightly more even keel, giving her a better grip on the water and minimizing leeway. Hornblower watched the pumps being manned; the hands threw their weight on the handles with a will, the rapid clank-clank proving how hard they were at work, pumping overside the twenty tons of drinking water which might be thought of as the life blood of a cruising ship. But the slight reduction of draught that would result might, combined with the running out of the weatherguns, add a few yards to her speed.

56The call for all hands had brought Mr. Erasmus Spendlove on deck, Hornblower’s secretary. He looked round him at the organized confusion on deck with that air of Olympian superiority which always delighted Hornblower. Spendlove cultivated a pose of unruffled calm that exasperated some and amused others. Yet he was a most efficient secretary, and Hornblower had never once regretted acting on the recommendation of Lord Exmouth and appointing him to his position.

57“You see the vulgar herd all hard at work, Mr. Spendlove,” said Hornblower.

58“Truly they appear to be, my lord.” He looked to windward at the Estrella. “I trust their labours will not be in vain.”

59Fell came bustling by, still looking up at the rigging and overside at the Estrella.

60“Mr. Sefton! Call the carpenter. I’ll have the wedges of the mainmast knocked loose. More play there may give us more speed.”

61Hornblower caught a change of expression on Spendlove’s face, and their eyes met. Spendlove was a profound student of the theory of ship design, and Hornblower was a man with a lifetime of experience, and the glance they exchanged, brief as it was, was enough for each to know that the other thought the new plan unwise. Hornblower watched the mainshrouds on the weather-side taking the additional strain. It was as well that Clorinda was newly refitted.

62“Can’t say we’re doing any better, my lord,” said Gerard from behind his telescope.

63The Estrella was perceptibly farther ahead and more to windward. If she wished, she would run Clorinda practically out of sight by noon. Hornblower observed an odd expression on Spendlove’s face. He was testing the air with his nose, sniffing curiously at the wind as it blew past him. It occurred to Hornblower that once or twice he had been aware, without drawing any conclusions from the phenomenon, that the clean trade wind had momentarily been tainted with a hint of a horrible stench. He himself tried the air again, and caught another musky whiff. He knew what it was—twenty years ago he had smelt the same stench when a Spanish galley crowded with galley slaves had passed to windward. The trade wind, blowing straight from the Estrella to the Clorinda, was bearing with it the reek from the crowded slave ship, tainting the air over the clean blue sea far to leeward of her.

64“We can be sure she’s carrying a full cargo,” he said.

65Fell was still endeavouring to improve Clorinda’s sailing qualities.

66“Mr. Sefton! Set the hands to work carrying shot up to wind’ard.”

67“She’s altering course!” Half a dozen voices made the announcement at the same moment.

68“Belay that order, Mr. Sefton!”

69Fell’s telescope, like all the others, was trained on the Estrella. She had put her helm up a little, and was boldly turning to cross Clorinda’s bows.

70“Damned insolence!” exclaimed Fell.

71Everyone watched anxiously as the two ships proceeded headlong on converging courses.

72“She’ll pass us out of range,” decided Gerard; the certainty became more apparent with every second of delay.

73“Hands to the braces!” roared Fell. “Quartermaster! Starboard your helm! Handsomely! Handsomely! Steady as you go!”

74“Two points off the wind,” said Hornblower. “We stand more chance now.”

75Clorinda’s bows were now pointed to intercept the Estrella at a far distant point, several miles ahead. Moreover, lying a little off the wind as both ships now were, it seemed probable that Estrella’s fore-and-aft rig and fine lines might not convey so great an advantage.

76“Take a bearing, Gerard,” ordered Hornblower.

77Gerard went to the binnacle and read the bearing carefully.

78“My impression,” said Spendlove, gazing over the blue, blue water, “is that she’s still forereaching on us.”

79“If that’s the case,” said Hornblower, “then all we can hope for is that she carries something away.”

80“We can at least hope for it, my lord,” said Spendlove. The glance he directed upwards was indicative of his fear that it would be the Clorinda whose gear would give way. Clorinda now had wind and sea very nearly abeam. She was lying over very steeply under every inch of canvas she could carry, and lifting unwillingly to the seas which came rolling in upon her, swirling in through her open gunports. Hornblower realized that he had not a dry stitch of clothing on him, and probably no one else on board had, either.

81“My lord,” said Gerard, “you’ve had no breakfast as yet.”

82Hornblower tried to conceal the discomfiture he felt at this reminder. He had forgotten all about breakfast, despite the cheerful anticipation with which he had once been looking forward to it.

83“Quite right, Mr. Gerard,” he said, jocular, but only clumsily so, thanks to being taken by surprise. “And what of it?”

84“It’s my duty to remind you, my lord,” said Gerard. “Her ladyship—”

85“Her ladyship told you to see that I took my meals regularly,” replied Hornblower. “I am aware of that. But her ladyship, owing to her inexperience, made no allowance for encounters with fast-sailing slavers just at mealtimes.”

86“But can’t I persuade you, my lord?”

87The thought of breakfast, now that it had been reimplanted in his mind, was more attractive than ever. But it was hard to go below with a pursuit being so hotly conducted.

88“Take that bearing again before I decide,” he temporized.

89Gerard walked to the binnacle again.

90“Bearing’s opening steadily, my lord,” he reported. “She must be drawing ahead fast.”

91“Clearly so,” said Spendlove, telescope trained out towards the Estrella. “And it looks—it looks as if she’s hauling in on her sheets. Maybe—”

92Hornblower had whipped his telescope to his eye on the instant.

93“She’s jibing over,” he pronounced. “See how she comes round, by George!”

94Estrella must have a bold captain and a well-trained crew. They had hauled in on her sheets and had stood ready at her topsail braces. Then, with the helm hard over, she had spun round on her heel. Her whole beautiful profile was now presented to Hornblower’s telescope. She was headed to cross Clorinda’s bows from starboard to port, and not too far ahead, either.

95“Damned insolence!” said Hornblower, but full of admiration for the daring and skill displayed.

96Fell was standing close by, staring at the impertinent schooner. He was rigid, even though the wind was flapping his coattails round him. For a few seconds it seemed as if the two vessels were heading towards a common point, where they must meet. But the impression soon passed. Even without taking a compass bearing it became apparent that Estrella must pass comfortably ahead of the frigate.

97“Run the guns in!” bellowed Fell. “Stand by to wear ship! Clear away the bow chasers, there!”

98It might be just possible that the schooner would pass within range of the bow chasers, but to take a shot at her, at long range and on that heaving sea, would be a chancy business. Should they score a hit, it might as likely take effect in the hull, among the wretched slaves, as on the spars or rigging. Hornblower was prepared to restrain Fell from firing.

99The guns were run in, and after another minute’s examination of the situation Fell ordered the helm to be put a-starboard and the ship laid right before the wind. Hornblower through his telescope could see the schooner lying right over with the wind abeam, so far over that as she heaved she presented a streak of copper to his view, pinkish against the blue of the sea. Clearly she was drawing across the frigate’s bows, as Fell tacitly acknowledged when he ordered a further turn of two points to port. Thanks to her two knots’ superiority in speed, and thanks also to her superior handiness and weatherliness, the Estrella was literally making a circle round the Clorinda.

100“She’s built for speed, my lord,” said Spendlove from behind his telescope.

101So was Clorinda, but with a difference. Clorinda was a fighting ship, built to carry seventy tons of artillery, with forty tons of powder and shot in her magazines. It was no shame to her that she should be outsailed and outmanoeuvred by such a vessel as the Estrella.

102“I fancy she’ll make for San Juan, Sir Thomas,” said Hornblower.

103Fell’s face bore an expression of helpless fury as he turned to his admiral; it was with an obvious effort that he restrained himself from pouring out his rage, presumably in a torrent of blasphemy.

104“It’s—it’s—” he spluttered.

105“It’s enough to madden a saint,” said Hornblower.

106Clorinda had been ideally stationed, twenty miles to windward of San Juan; Estrella had run practically into her arms, so to speak, and had yet dodged neatly round her and had won for herself a clear run to the port.

107“I’ll see him damned, my lord!” said Fell. “Quartermaster!”

108There was now the long run ahead to San Juan, one point off the wind, in what was practically a race with an even start. Fell laid a course for San Juan; it was obvious that Estrella, comfortably out of range on the starboard beam, was heading for the same point. Both ships had the wind practically abeam; this long run would be a final test of the sailing qualities of the two ships, as though they were a couple of yachts completing a triangular course in a race in the Solent. Hornblower reminded himself that earlier this morning he had compared the present voyage with a yachting excursion. But the expression on Fell’s face showed that his flag captain by no means looked on it in the same light. Fell was in the deadliest earnest, and not from any philanthropic feelings about slavery, either. It was the head money he wanted.

109“About that breakfast, my lord?” said Gerard.

110An officer was touching his hat to Fell with the request that it might be considered noon.

111“Make it so,” said Fell. The welcome cry of “Up spirits” rang through the ship.

112“Breakfast, my lord?” asked Gerard again.

113“Let’s wait and see how we do on this course,” said Hornblower. He saw something of dismay in Gerard’s face and laughed. “It’s a question of your breakfast, I fancy, as well as mine. You’ve had nothing this morning?”

114“No, my lord.”

115“I starve my young men, I see,” said Hornblower, looking from Gerard to Spendlove; but the latter’s expression was peculiarly unchanging, and Hornblower remembered all he knew about him. “I’ll wager a guinea that Spendlove hasn’t spent the morning fasting.”

116The suggestion was answered by a wide grin.

117“I am no sailor, my lord,” said Spendlove. “But I have learned one thing while I have been at sea, and that is to snatch at any meal that makes its appearance. Fairy gold vanishes no faster than the opportunity of eating food at sea.”

118“So, while your admiral has been starving, you have been walking this deck with a full belly? Shame on you.”

119“I feel that shame as deeply as the situation merits, my lord.”

120Spendlove obviously had all the tact that an admiral’s secretary needed to have.

121“Hands to the main brace!” bellowed Fell.

122Clorinda was hurtling along over the blue sea with the wind abeam; it was her best point of sailing, and Fell was doing all he could to get the very best out of her. Hornblower looked over at Estrella.

123“I fancy we’re falling behind,” he said.

124“I think so too, my lord,” said Gerard after a glance in the same direction. He walked over and took a bearing, and Fell glared at him with irritation before turning to Hornblower.

125“I hope you will agree, my lord,” he said, “that Clorinda has done all a ship can do?”

126“Certainly, Sir Thomas,” said Hornblower. Fell really meant to say that no fault could be found with his handling of the ship; and Hornblower, while convinced that he himself could have handled her better, had no doubt that in any case Estrella would have evaded capture.

127“That schooner sails like a witch,” said Fell. “Look at her now, my lord.”

128Estrella’s lovely lines and magnificent sail plan were obvious even at this distance.

129“She’s a beautiful vessel,” agreed Hornblower.

130“She’s headreaching on us for sure,” announced Gerard from the binnacle. “And I think she’s weathering on us too.”

131“And there goes five hundred pounds,” said Fell bitterly. Assuredly he was in need of money. “Quartermaster! Bear up a point. Hands to the braces!”

132He brought Clorinda a little closer to the wind and studied her behaviour before turning back to Hornblower.

133“I’ll not give up the chase until I’m compelled, my lord,” he said.

134“Quite right,” agreed Hornblower.

135There was something of resignation, something of despair, in Fell’s expression. It was not only the thought of the lost money that troubled him, Hornblower realized. The report that Fell had tried to capture the Estrella, and had failed, almost ludicrously, would reach Their Lordships of the Admiralty, of course. Even if Hornblower’s own report minimized the failure, it would still be a failure. That meant that Fell would never be employed again after his present two years’ appointment had expired. For every captain with a command in the Royal Navy now there were twenty at least hungry for commands. The slightest lapse would be seized upon as reason for ending a man’s career; it could not be otherwise. Fell was now looking forward apprehensively to spending the rest of his life on half pay. And Lady Fell was an expensive and ambitious woman. No wonder that Fell’s usually red cheeks had a grey tinge.

136The slight alteration of course Fell had ordered was really a final admission of defeat. Clorinda was retaining her windward position only at the cost of seeing Estrella draw more rapidly ahead.

137“But I fear she’ll beat us easily into San Juan,” went on Fell with admirable stoicism. Right ahead the purple smear on the horizon that marked the hills of Puerto Rico was growing loftier and more defined. “What orders have you for me in that case, my lord?”

138“What water have you left on board?” asked Hornblower in return.

139“Five tons, my lord. Say six days at short allowance.”

140“Six days,” repeated Hornblower, mostly to himself. It was a tiresome complication. The nearest British territory was a hundred miles to windward.

141“I had to try the effect of lightening the ship, my lord,” said Fell, self-exculpatory.

142“I know, I know.” Hornblower always felt testy when someone tried to excuse himself. “Well, we’ll follow Estrella in if we don’t catch her first.”

143“It will be an official visit, my lord?” asked Gerard quickly.

144“It can hardly be anything else with my flag flying,” said Hornblower. He took no pleasure in official visits. “We may as well kill two birds with one stone. It’s time I called on the Spanish authorities, and we can fill up with water at the same time.”

145“Aye aye, my lord.”

146A visit of ceremony in a foreign port meant many calls on the activity of his staff—but not as many as on him, he told himself with irritation.

147“I’ll have my breakfast before anything else comes to postpone it,” he said. The perfect good humour of the morning had quite evaporated now. He would be in a bad temper now if he allowed himself to indulge in the weakness of humanity.

148When he came on deck again the failure to intercept Estrella was painfully obvious. The schooner was a full three miles ahead, and had weathered upon Clorinda until the latter lay almost in her wake. The coast of Puerto Rico was very well defined now. Estrella was entering into territorial waters and was perfectly safe. All hands were hard at work in every part of the ship bringing everything into that condition of perfection—really no more perfect than invariably prevailed—which a British ship must display when entering a foreign port and submitting herself to the jealous inspection of strangers. The deck had been brought to a whiteness quite dazzling in the tropical sun; the metalwork was equally dazzling—painful when the eye received a direct reflection; gleaming cutlasses and pikes were ranged in decorative patterns on the bulkhead aft; white cotton lines were being rove everywhere, with elaborate Turk’s heads.

149“Very good, Sir Thomas,” said Hornblower approvingly.

150“Authority in San Juan is represented by a captain-general, my lord,” said Spendlove.

151“Yes. I shall have to call upon him,” agreed Hornblower. “Sir Thomas, I shall be obliged if you will accompany me.”

152“Aye aye, my lord.”

153“Ribbons and stars, I fear, Sir Thomas.”

154“Aye aye, my lord.”

155Fell had received his knighthood of the Bath after a desperate frigate action back in 1813. It had been a tribute to his courage if not to his professional abilities.

156“Schooner’s taking a pilot on board!” hailed the masthead lookout.

157“Very well!”

158“Our turn shortly,” said Hornblower. “Time to array ourselves for our hosts. They will be grateful, I hope, that our arrival will take place after the hour of the siesta.”

159It was also the hour when the sea breeze was beginning to blow. The pilot they took on—a big handsome quadroon—took the ship in without a moment’s difficulty, although, naturally, Fell stood beside him consumed with anxiety. Hornblower, free from any such responsibility, was able to go forward to the gangway and examine the approaches to the city; it was a time of peace, but Spain had been an enemy before and might perhaps be an enemy again, and at least nothing would be lost if he knew as much as possible about the defences firsthand. It did not take very long to perceive why San Juan had never been attacked, not to speak of captured, by the numerous enemies of Spain during the long life of the city. It was ringed by a lofty wall of stout masonry, with ditches and bastions, moats and drawbridges. On the lofty bluff overlooking the entrance Morro Castle covered the approaches with artillery; there was another fortress—which must be San Cristóbal—and battery succeeded battery along the water-front, with heavy guns visible in the embrasures. Nothing less than a formal siege, with a powerful army and a battering train, could make any impression on San Juan as long as it was defended by an adequate garrison.

160The sea breeze brought them up the entrance passage; there was the usual momentary anxiety about whether the Spaniards were prepared to salute his flag, but the anxiety was speedily allayed as the guns in the Morro began to bang out their reply. Hornblower held himself stiffly to attention as the ship glided in, the forecastle saluting carronade firing at admirably regular intervals. The hands took in the canvas with a rapidity that did them credit—Hornblower was watching unobtrusively from under the brim of his cocked hat—and then Clorinda rounded-to and the anchor cable rumbled through the hawsehole. A deeply sunburned officer in a fine uniform came up the side and announced himself, in passable English, as the port medical officer, and received Fell’s declaration that Clorinda had experienced no infectious disease during the past twenty-one days.

161Now that they were in the harbour, where the sea breeze circulated with difficulty, and the ship was stationary, they were aware of the crushing heat; Hornblower felt instantly the sweat trickling down inside his shirt under his heavy uniform coat, and he turned his head uncomfortably from side to side, feeling the constriction of his starched neckcloth. A brief gesture from Gerard beside him pointed out what he had already observed—the Estrella del Sur in her gleaming white paint lying at the pier close beside them. It seemed as if the reek of her still reached his nostrils from her open hatchways. A file of soldiers, in blue coats with white crossbelts, was drawn up on the pier, standing somewhat negligently under command of a sergeant. From within the hold of the schooner came a most lamentable noise—prolonged and doleful wailings. As they watched they saw a string of naked Negroes come climbing with difficulty up through the hatchway. They could hardly walk—in fact some of them could not walk at all, but fell to their hands and knees and crawled in that fashion over the deck and onto the pier.

162“They’re landing their cargo,” said Gerard.

163“Some of it at least,” replied Hornblower. In nearly a year of study he had learned much about the slave trade. The demand for slaves here in Puerto Rico was small compared with that at Havana. During the Middle Passage the slaves he saw had been confined on the slave decks, packed tight “spoon fashion,” lying on their sides with their knees bent up into the bend of the knees of the next man. It was only to be expected that the captain of the Estrella would take this opportunity of giving his perishable cargo a thorough airing.

164A hail from overside distracted them. A boat with the Spanish flag at the bow was approaching; sitting in the sternsheets was an officer in a brilliant gold-laced uniform that reflected back the setting sun.

165“Here comes Authority,” said Hornblower.

166The side was manned and the officer came aboard to the trilling of the pipes of the bosun’s mates, very correctly raising his hand in salute. Hornblower walked over to join Fell in receiving him. He spoke in Spanish, and Hornblower was aware that Fell had none of that language.

167“Major Mendez-Castillo,” the officer announced himself, “first and principal aide-de-camp to His Excellency the captain-general of Puerto Rico.”

168He was tall and slender, with a thin moustache that might have been put on with grease paint; he looked cautiously, without committing himself, at the two officers in their red ribbons and stars, and glittering epaulettes, who were receiving him.

169“Welcome, Major,” said Hornblower. “I am Rear Admiral Lord Hornblower, commander-in-chief of His Britannic Majesty’s ships and vessels in West Indian waters. May I present Captain Sir Thomas Fell, commanding His Britannic Majesty’s ship Clorinda?”

170Mendez-Castillo bowed to each of them, his relief at knowing which was which faintly apparent.

171“Welcome to Puerto Rico, Your Excellency,” he said. “We had of course heard that the famous Lord Hornblower was now commander-in-chief here, and we had long hoped for the honour of a visit from him.”

172“Many thanks,” said Hornblower.

173“And welcome to you and to your ship, Captain,” added Mendez-Castillo hastily, nervous in case it should be too apparent that he had been so engrossed in his meeting with the fabulous Hornblower that he had paid insufficient attention to a mere captain. Fell bowed awkwardly in reply—interpretation was unnecessary.

174“I am instructed by His Excellency,” went on Mendez-Castillo, “to inquire if there is any way in which His Excellency can be of service to Your Excellency on the notable occasion of this visit?”

175In Spanish the phrasing of the pompous sentence was even more difficult than in English. And as Mendez-Castillo spoke, his glance wavered momentarily towards the Estrella; obviously all the details of the Clorinda’s attempted interception were already known—much of the unavailing pursuit must have been visible from the Morro. Something in the major’s attitude conveyed the impression that the subject of the Estrella was not open to discussion.

176“We intend to make only a brief stay, Major. Captain Fell is anxious to renew the water supply of his ship,” said Hornblower, and Mendez-Castillo’s expression softened at once.

177“Of course,” he said hastily. “Nothing could be easier. I will give instructions to the captain of the port to afford Captain Fell every facility.”

178“You are too kind, Major,” said Hornblower. Bows were exchanged again, Fell joining in, although unaware of what had been said.

179“His Excellency has also instructed me,” said Mendez-Castillo, “that he hopes for the honour of a visit from Your Excellency.”

180“I had hoped that His Excellency would be kind enough to invite me.”

181“His Excellency will be charmed to hear it. Perhaps Your Excellency would be kind enough to visit His Excellency this evening. His Excellency would be charmed to receive Your Excellency at eight o’clock, along with the members of Your Excellency’s staff, at La Fortaleza, the Palace of Santa Catalina.”

182“His Excellency is too good. We shall be delighted, naturally.”

183“I shall inform His Excellency. Perhaps Your Excellency would find it convenient if I were to come on board at that time to escort Your Excellency and Your Excellency’s party?”

184“We shall be most grateful, Major.”

185The major took his leave after a final reference to the captain of the port and the watering of the ship. Hornblower explained briefly to Fell.

186“Aye aye, my lord.”

187Here came another visitor, up the port side of the ship, a squat, heavily built man in dazzling white linen, wearing a broad-brimmed hat which he took off with scrupulous politeness as he reached the quarterdeck. Hornblower watched him address himself to the midshipman of the watch, and saw the latter hesitate and look round him while trying to make up his mind as to whether he should grant the request.

188“Very well, midshipman,” said Hornblower. “What does the gentleman want?”

189He could guess very easily what the gentleman wanted. This might be an opportunity of making contact with the shore other than through official channels—something always desirable, and peculiarly so at this moment. The visitor came forward; a pair of bright quizzical blue eyes studied Hornblower closely as he did so.

190“My lord?” he said. He at least could recognize an admiral’s uniform when he saw it.

191“Yes. I am Admiral Lord Hornblower.”

192“I fear to trouble you with my business, my lord.” He spoke English like an Englishman, like a Tynesider, perhaps, but obviously as if he had not spoken it for years.

193“What is it?”

194“I came on board to address myself to your steward, my lord, and to the president of the wardroom mess, and to the purser. The principal ship chandler of the port. Beef cattle, my lord, chickens, eggs, fresh bread, fruits, vegetables.”

195“What is your name?”

196“Eduardo Stuart—Edward Stuart, my lord. Second mate of the brig Columbine, out of London. Captured back in 1806, my lord, and brought in here as a prisoner. I made friends here, and when the Dons changed sides in 1808 I set up as ship chandler, and here I’ve been ever since.”

197Hornblower studied the speaker as keenly as the speaker was studying him. He could guess at much of what was left unsaid. He could guess at a fortunate marriage, and probably at a change of religion—unless Stuart had been born a Catholic, as was possible enough.

198“And I am at your service, my lord,” went on Stuart, meeting his gaze without flinching.

199“In a moment I’ll let you speak to the purser,” said Hornblower. “But tell me first, what impression has our arrival made here?”

200Stuart’s face crinkled into a grin.

201“The whole town was out watching your chase of the Estrella del Sur, my lord.”

202“I guessed as much.”

203“They all rejoiced when they saw her escape you. And then when they saw you coming in they manned the batteries.”

204“Indeed?”

205The Royal Navy’s reputation for prompt action, both daring and high-handed, must still be very much alive, if there could be even a momentary fear that a single frigate would attempt to snatch a prize from out of the shelter of a port as well guarded as San Juan.

206“In ten minutes your name was being spoken in all the streets, my lord.”

207Hornblower’s keen glance reassured him that he was not being paid an idle compliment.

208“And what is the Estrella going to do now?”

209“She has only come in to land a few sickly slaves and renew with water, my lord. It’s a poor market for slaves here. She sails for Havana at once, as soon as she can be sure of your movements, my lord.”

210“At once?”

211“She’ll sail with the land breeze at dawn tomorrow, my lord, unless you are lying outside the port.”

212“I don’t expect I shall be,” said Hornblower.

213“Then she’ll sail without a doubt, my lord. She’ll want to get her cargo landed and sold in Havana before Spain signs the Convention.”

214“I understand,” said Hornblower.

215Now what was this? Here were the old symptoms, as recognizable as ever, the quickened heart beat, the feeling of warmth under the skin, the general restlessness. There was something just below the horizon of his mind, some stirring of an idea. And within a second the idea was up over the horizon, vague at present, like a hazy landfall, but as certain and as reassuring as any landfall. And beyond, still over the horizon, were other ideas, only to be guessed at. He could not help glancing over at the Estrella, sizing up the tactical situation, seeking further inspiration there, testing what he already had in mind.

216It was all he could do to thank Stuart politely for his information, without betraying the excitement he felt, and without terminating the interview with suspicious abruptness. A word to Fell made certain that Stuart would receive the business of supplying the Clorinda, and Hornblower waved away Stuart’s thanks. Hornblower turned away with as great an appearance of nonchalance as he could manage.

217There was plenty of bustle over there by the Estrella, just as there was round the Clorinda, with preparations being made for filling the water casks. It was hard to think in the heat and the noise. It was hard to face the cluttered deck. And darkness was approaching, and then would come eight o’clock, when he would be making his call upon the captain-general, and obviously everything must be thought out before that. And there were complications. Successive ideas were arising, one out of another, like Chinese boxes, and each one in turn had to be examined for flaws. The sun was down into the hills, leaving a flaming sky behind, when he came to his final resolution.