Read Online Hornblower 05 - Hornblower and the Atropos by C. S. Forester - Free Book Online
Authors: C. S. Forester
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looked like, sir,” said the midshipman stubbornly.
“God help us all,” said Hornblower in despair.
But that was the man who wrote a very clear hand; Hornblower put him on to the task of writing the beginnings of each letter.
H.M.S. Atropos at Deptford
Jan 6th 1806
Sir
By virtue of the powers entrusted to me by the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty —
Other men could carry on from there, with a saving of time. The ninety different written orders with their duplicates were written at last, and distributed by midnight; crews and petty officers had been found from various sources for every boat that was to take part in the procession, rations allotted to them, their place in the line clearly stated — “You will take the seventeenth position, immediately after the barge of the Commander-in-Chief at the Nore and immediately preceding that of the Worshipful Company of Fishmongers.”
The final arrangements were made with Mr. Pallender at two in the morning of the day of the procession, and Hornblower, yawning, could think of nothing else to be done. Yes, there was a final change to be made.
“Mr. Horrocks, you will come with me with the Body in the first barge. Mr. Smiley, you'll command the second with the Chief Mourner.”
Horrocks was the stupidest of the midshipmen and Smiley the brightest — it had been natural to reserve the latter for himself, but now he realized how stupid Horrocks was, and how necessary it was to keep him under his own eye.
“Aye aye, sir.”
Hornblower fancied Smiley looked pleased at thus escaping from the direct supervision of his captain, and he pricked that bubble.
“You'll have nine admirals and four captains as passengers, Smiley,” he said. “Including Admiral of the Fleet Sir Peter Parker and Lord St Vincent.”
Smiley did not look nearly as pleased at that.
“Mr. Jones, have the longboat with the hands at Greenwich Pier at six o'clock, if you please.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“And call away the gig for me now.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“I'll be at the ”George“ until five. Send any messages there.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
He still had a personal life; Maria was very near her time now.
On the deck there was a brisk westerly wind harping in the rigging, gusty, Hornblower noted. The barges would call for careful handling unless it dropped considerably. He stepped down into the gig.
“Make for Deptford Hard,” he ordered the coxswain, and clasped his coat close tightly round him, for the cabin of the Atropos had been hot with lamps and candles and many people. He walked up the Hard and knocked at the door of the “George”; from the window at the side there was a faint light showing and the window of their room above was illuminated. The door opened to reveal the landlady."
“Oh, it's you, sir. I thought it was the midwife. I've just sent Davie for her. Your good lady —”
“Let me by,” said Hornblower.
Maria was walking about the bedroom in her dressing-gown; two candles illuminated the room, and the shadows of the bed-tester and the other furniture moved in sinister fashion as Hornblower opened the door.
“Darling!” said Maria.
Hornblower came towards her, his hands held out.
“I hope all is well with you, dear,” he said.
“I think so. I — I hope so. It has only just begun,” said Maria.
They kissed.
“Darling,” said Maria. “How good of you to come here. I — I was hoping I should see you again before — before — my time came.”
“Not good of me,” said Hornblower. “I came because I wanted to come. I wanted to see you.”
“But you are so busy. Today is the day of the procession, is it not?”
“Yes,” said Hornblower.
“And our child will be born today. A little girl, dear? Or another little boy?”
“We'll know soon,” said Hornblower. He knew which Maria wanted. “Whichever it is we'll love her — or him.”
“That we shall,” said Maria.
The last syllable was jerked out of her more forcibly than
“God help us all,” said Hornblower in despair.
But that was the man who wrote a very clear hand; Hornblower put him on to the task of writing the beginnings of each letter.
H.M.S. Atropos at Deptford
Jan 6th 1806
Sir
By virtue of the powers entrusted to me by the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty —
Other men could carry on from there, with a saving of time. The ninety different written orders with their duplicates were written at last, and distributed by midnight; crews and petty officers had been found from various sources for every boat that was to take part in the procession, rations allotted to them, their place in the line clearly stated — “You will take the seventeenth position, immediately after the barge of the Commander-in-Chief at the Nore and immediately preceding that of the Worshipful Company of Fishmongers.”
The final arrangements were made with Mr. Pallender at two in the morning of the day of the procession, and Hornblower, yawning, could think of nothing else to be done. Yes, there was a final change to be made.
“Mr. Horrocks, you will come with me with the Body in the first barge. Mr. Smiley, you'll command the second with the Chief Mourner.”
Horrocks was the stupidest of the midshipmen and Smiley the brightest — it had been natural to reserve the latter for himself, but now he realized how stupid Horrocks was, and how necessary it was to keep him under his own eye.
“Aye aye, sir.”
Hornblower fancied Smiley looked pleased at thus escaping from the direct supervision of his captain, and he pricked that bubble.
“You'll have nine admirals and four captains as passengers, Smiley,” he said. “Including Admiral of the Fleet Sir Peter Parker and Lord St Vincent.”
Smiley did not look nearly as pleased at that.
“Mr. Jones, have the longboat with the hands at Greenwich Pier at six o'clock, if you please.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“And call away the gig for me now.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“I'll be at the ”George“ until five. Send any messages there.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
He still had a personal life; Maria was very near her time now.
On the deck there was a brisk westerly wind harping in the rigging, gusty, Hornblower noted. The barges would call for careful handling unless it dropped considerably. He stepped down into the gig.
“Make for Deptford Hard,” he ordered the coxswain, and clasped his coat close tightly round him, for the cabin of the Atropos had been hot with lamps and candles and many people. He walked up the Hard and knocked at the door of the “George”; from the window at the side there was a faint light showing and the window of their room above was illuminated. The door opened to reveal the landlady."
“Oh, it's you, sir. I thought it was the midwife. I've just sent Davie for her. Your good lady —”
“Let me by,” said Hornblower.
Maria was walking about the bedroom in her dressing-gown; two candles illuminated the room, and the shadows of the bed-tester and the other furniture moved in sinister fashion as Hornblower opened the door.
“Darling!” said Maria.
Hornblower came towards her, his hands held out.
“I hope all is well with you, dear,” he said.
“I think so. I — I hope so. It has only just begun,” said Maria.
They kissed.
“Darling,” said Maria. “How good of you to come here. I — I was hoping I should see you again before — before — my time came.”
“Not good of me,” said Hornblower. “I came because I wanted to come. I wanted to see you.”
“But you are so busy. Today is the day of the procession, is it not?”
“Yes,” said Hornblower.
“And our child will be born today. A little girl, dear? Or another little boy?”
“We'll know soon,” said Hornblower. He knew which Maria wanted. “Whichever it is we'll love her — or him.”
“That we shall,” said Maria.
The last syllable was jerked out of her more forcibly than
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