“Excellent,” said Hornblower again, when Field’s last halting sentence was uttered. “You’ve done very well, Mr Field, thank you.”
“Thank you, My Lord.”
When Field had left, Hornblower could address himself to Fell.
“Your plan has worked out admirably, Sir Thomas. Now it only remains to catch the Estrella. I would strongly recommend you to make all preparations for getting under way at daylight. The sooner we leave after the Estrella has sailed the better, don’t you think?”
“Aye aye, My Lord.”
The ship’s bell overhead anticipated the next question Hornblower was about to ask.
“Three hours to daylight,” he said. “I’ll say goodnight to you gentlemen, then.”
It had been a busy day, of ceaseless activity, mental if not physical, since dawn. After a long, hot evening it seemed to Hornblower that his feet had swollen to twice their ordinary size and that his gold-buckled shoes had made no allowance for this expansion — he could hardly pry them off. He took off ribbon and star and gold-laced coat, and reluctantly reminded himself that he would have to put them on again for his ceremonial departure in three hours’ time. He sponged himself down with water from his washbasin, and sank down sighing with relief on his cot in the night cabin.
He woke automatically when the watch was called; the cabin was still quite dark and he was at a loss, for a couple of seconds, about why there should be this feeling of urgency within him. Then he remembered, and was wide awake at once, shouting to the sentry at the door to pass the word for Giles. He shaved by lamplight in feverish haste, and then, once more in the hated full-dress uniform, he sped up the ladder to the quarterdeck. It was still pitch dark; no, perhaps there was the slightest glimmering of daylight. Perhaps the sky was the smallest trifle brighter over the Morro. Perhaps. The quarterdeck was crowded with shadowy figures, more even than would be found there with the ship’s company at stations for getting under way. At sight of them he nearly turned back, having no wish to reveal that he shared the same weaknesses as the rest of them, but Fell had caught sight of him.
“Good morning, My Lord.”
“Morning, Sir Thomas.”
“Land breeze blowing full, My Lord.”
No doubt about that; Hornblower could feel it breathing round him, delightful after the sweltering stuffiness of the cabin. In these midsummer tropics it would be of short duration; it would be cut off short as soon as the sun, lifting over the horizon, should get to work in its brassy strength upon the land.
“Estrella‘s making ready for sea, My Lord.”
There was no doubt about that either; the sounds of it made their way over the water through the twilight.
“I don’t have to ask if you are ready, Sir Thomas.”
“All ready, My Lord. Hands standing by at the capstan.”
“Very well.”
Undoubtedly it was lighter already; the figures on the quarterdeck — now much more clearly defined — had all moved over to the starboard side, lining the rail. Half a dozen telescopes were being extended and pointed towards the Estrella.
“Sir Thomas, put an end to that, if you please. Send that crowd below.”
“They’re anxious to see —”
“I know what they want to see. Send them below immediately.”
“Aye aye, My Lord.”
Everyone, of course, was desperately anxious to see if anything was visible at the Estrella‘s waterline aft, which might reveal what had been done at night. But there could be no surer way of calling the attention of the Estrella‘s captain to something suspicious under his stern than by pointing telescopes at it.
“Officer of the watch!”
“My Lord?”
“See to it that no one points a telescope for one moment towards the Estrella.”
“Aye aye, My Lord.”
“When there’s enough light to see clearly, you can sweep round the harbour as you might be expected to do. Not more than five seconds for the Estrella, but make sure you see all there is to see.”
“Aye aye, My Lord.”
The eastern sky was now displaying faint greens and yellows, against which the Morro silhouetted itself magnificently though faintly, but in its shadow all was still dark. Even before breakfast it was a romantic moment. It occurred to Hornblower that the presence of an Admiral in full dress on the quarterdeck so early might itself be a suspicious circumstance.
“I’m going below, Sir Thomas. Please keep me informed.”
“Aye aye, My Lord.”
In the day cabin Gerard and Spendlove sprang to their feet as he entered; presumably they had been among those driven below by Fell’s order.
“Mr Spendlove, I am profiting by your admirable example of yesterday. I shall make sure of my breakfast while I may. Would you please order breakfast, Mr Gerard? I presume you gentlemen will favour me with your company.”
He threw himself negligently into a chair and watched the preparations. Half way through them a knock at the door brought in Fell himself.
“Estrella‘s clearly in sight now, My Lord. And there’s nothing visible under her stern.”
“Thank you, Sir Thomas.”
A cup of coffee was welcome at this time in the morning. Hornblower did not have to pretend eagerness to drink it. Daylight was creeping in through the cabin windows, making the lamplight garish and unnecessary. Another knock brought in a midshipman.
“Cap’n’s respects, My Lord, and Estrella‘s casting off.”
“Very well.”
Soon she would be under way, and their device would be put to the test. Hornblower made himself bite and masticate another mouthful of toast.
“Can’t you young men sit still for even a moment?” he snapped. “Pour me some more coffee, Gerard.”
“Estrella‘s warping out into the channel, My Lord,” reported the midshipman again.
“Very well,” said Hornblower, sipping fastidiously at his coffee, and hoping that no one could guess how much his pulse rate had accelerated. The minutes dragged by.
“Estrella‘s preparing to make sail, My Lord.”
“Very well.” Hornblower put down his coffee cup, slowly, and as slowly as he could manage it rose from his chair, the eyes of the two young men never leaving him.
“I think,” he said, dragging out his words, “we might now go on deck.”
Pacing as slowly as when he had been a mourner at Nelson’s funeral he walked out past the sentry and up the ladder; behind him the young men had to curb their impatience. It was dazzling bright on deck; the sun was just over the Morro. In the centre of the fairway at less than a cable’s length distance lay the Estrella, gleaming in her white paint. As Hornblower’s eyes rested on her her jib extended itself upwards, to catch the wind and swing her round. Next moment her mainsail took the wind, and she steadied herself, gathering way; in a few seconds she was moving forward past the Clorinda. This was the moment. Fell was standing staring at her and muttering to himself; he was blaspheming in his excitement. Estrella dipped her colours; on her deck Hornblower was able to recognise the figure of Gomez, standing directing the handling of the schooner. Gomez caught sight of him at the same moment, and bowed, holding his hat across his chest, and Hornblower returned the compliment.
“She’s not making two knots through the water,” said Hornblower.
“Thank God for that,” said Fell.
Estrella glided on towards the entrance, preparatory to making the dog-legged turn out to sea; Gomez was handling her beautifully under her very easy sail.