csf.mrmidshipmanhornblower-第2部分

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　But　Hornblower　ceased　to　care；　he　was　not　really　conscious　of　what　was　going　on　round　him　for　some　time　after　that。　The　nervous　excitement　of　the　last　few　days　was　as　much　to　blame；　perhaps；　as　the　journey　in　the　shore　boat　and　the　erratic　behaviour　of　the　Justinian　at　her　anchors；　but　it　meant　for　him　that　he　was　labelled　at　once　as　the　midshipman　who　was　seasick　in　Spithead；　and　it　was　only　natural　that　the　label　added　to　the　natural　misery　of　the　loneliness　and　homesickness　which　oppressed　him　during　those　days　when　that　part　of　the　Channel　Fleet　which　had　not　succeeded　in　pleting　its　crews　lay　at　anchor　in　the　lee　of　the　Isle　of　Wight。　An　hour　in　the　hammock　into　which　the　messman　hoisted　him　enabled　him　to　recover　sufficiently　to　be　able　to　report　himself　to　the　first　lieutenant；　after　a　few　days　on　board　he　was　able　to　find　his　way　round　the　ship　without　（as　happened　at　first）　losing　his　sense　of　direction　below　decks；　so　that　he　did　not　know　whether　he　was　facing　forward　or　aft。　During　that　period　his　brother　officers　ceased　to　have　faces　which　were　mere　blurs　and　came　to　take　on　personalities；　he　came　painfully　to　learn　the　stations　allotted　him　when　the　ship　was　at　quarters；　when　he　was　on　watch；　and　when　hands　were　summoned　for　setting　or　taking　in　sail。　He　even　came　to　have　an　acute　enough　understanding　of　his　new　life　to　realize　that　it　could　have　been　worse…that　destiny　might　have　put　him　on　board　a　ship　ordered　immediately　to　sea　instead　of　one　lying　at　anchor。　But　it　was　a　poor　enough　pensation；　he　was　a　lonely　and　unhappy　boy。　Shyness　alone　would　long　have　delayed　his　making　friends；　but　as　it　happened　the　midshipmen's　berth　in　the　Justinian　was　occupied　by　men　all　a　good　deal　older　than　he；　elderly　master's　mates　recruited　from　the　merchant　service；　and　midshipmen　in　their　twenties　who　through　lack　of　patronage　or　inability　to　pass　the　necessary　examination　had　never　succeeded　in　gaining　for　themselves　missions　as　lieutenants。　They　were　inclined；　after　the　first　moments　of　amused　interest；　to　ignore　him；　and　he　was　glad　of　it；　delighted　to　shrink　into　his　shell　and　attract　no　notice　to　himself。
　For　the　Justinian　was　not　a　happy　ship　during　those　gloomy　January　days。　Captain　Keene…it　was　when　he　came　aboard　that　Hornblower　first　saw　the　pomp　and　ceremony　that　surrounds　the　captain　of　a　ship　of　the　line…was　a　sick　man；　of　a　melancholy　disposition。　He　had　not　the　fame　which　enabled　some　captains　to　fill　their　ships　with　enthusiastic　volunteers；　and　he　was　devoid　of　the　personality　which　might　have　made　enthusiasts　out　of　the　sullen　pressed　men　whom　the　press　gangs　were　bringing　in　from　day　to　day　to　plete　the　ship's　plement。　His　officers　saw　little　of　him；　and　did　not　love　what　they　saw。　Hornblower；　summoned　to　his　cabin　for　his　first　interview；　was　not　impressed…a　middle…aged　man　at　a　table　covered　with　papers；　with　the　hollow　and　yellow　cheeks　of　prolonged　illness。
　'Mr　Hornblower；'　he　said　formally；　'I　am　glad　to　have　this　opportunity　of　weling　you　on　board　my　ship。'
　'Yes；　sir；'　said　Hornblower…that　seemed　more　appropriate　to　the　occasion　than　'Aye　aye；　sir'；　and　a　junior　midshipman　seemed　to　be　expected　to　say　one　or　the　other　on　all　occasions。
　'You　are…let　me　see…seventeen？'　Captain　Keene　picked　up　the　paper　which　apparently　covered　Hornblower's　brief　official　career。
　'Yes；　sir。'
　'July　4th；　1776；'　mused　Keene；　reading　Hornblower's　date　of　birth　to　himself。　'Five　years　to　the　day　before　I　was　posted　as　captain。　I　had　been　six　years　as　lieutenant　before　you　were　born。'
　'Yes；　sir；'　agreed　Hornblower…it　did　not　seem　the　occasion　for　any　further　ment。
　'A　doctor's　son…you　should　have　chosen　a　lord　for　your　father　if　you　wanted　to　make　a　career　for　yourself。'
　'Yes；　sir。'
　'How　far　did　your　education　go？'
　'I　was　a　Grecian　at　school；　sir。'
　'So　you　can　construe　Xenophon　as　well　as　Cicero？'
　'Yes；　sir。　But　not　very　well；　sir。'
　'Better　if　you　knew　something　about　sines　and　cosines。　Better　if　you　could　foresee　a　squall　in　time　to　get　t'gallants　in。　We　have　no　use　for　ablative　absolutes　in　the　Navy。'
　'Yes；　sir；'　said　Hornblower。
　He　had　only　just　learned　what　a　topgallant　was；　but　he　could　have　told　his　captain　that　his　mathematical　studies　were　far　advanced。　He　refrained　nevertheless；　his　instincts　bined　with　his　recent　experiences　urged　him　not　to　volunteer　unsolicited　information。
　'Well；　obey　orders；　learn　your　duties；　and　no　harm　can　e　to　you。　That　will　do。'
　'Thank　you；　sir；'　said　Hornblower；　retiring。
　But　the　captain's　last　words　to　him　seemed　to　be　contradicted　immediately。　Harm　began　to　e　to　Hornblower　from　that　day　forth；　despite　his　obedience　to　orders　and　diligent　study　of　his　duties；　and　it　stemmed　from　the　arrival　in　the　midshipmen's　berth　of　John　Simpson　as　senior　warrant　officer。　Hornblower　was　sitting　at　mess　with　his　colleagues　when　he　first　saw　him…a　brawny　good…looking　man　in　his　thirties；　who　came　in　and　stood　looking　at　them　just　as　Hornblower　had　stood　a　few　days　before。
　'Hullo！'　said　somebody；　not　very　cordially。
　'Cleveland；　my　bold　friend；'　said　the　newer；　'e　out　from　that　seat。　I　am　going　to　resume　my　place　at　the　head　of　the　table。'
　'But…'
　'e　out；　I　said；'　snapped　Simpson。
　Cleveland　moved　along　with　some　show　of　reluctance；　and　Simpson　took　his　place；　and　glowered　round　the　table　in　reply　to　the　curious　glances　with　which　everyone　regarded　him。
　'Yes；　my　sweet　brother　officers；'　he　said；　'I　am　back　in　the　bosom　of　the　family。　And　I　am　not　surprised　that　nobody　is　pleased。　You　will　all　be　less　pleased　by　the　time　I　am　done　with　you；　I　may　add。'
　'But　your　mission…？'　asked　somebody；　greatly　daring。
　'My　mission？'　Simpson　leaned　forward　and　tapped　the　table；　staring　down　the　inquisitive　people　on　either　side　of　it。　'I'll　answer　that　question　this　once；　and　the　man　who　asks　it　again　will　wish　he　had　never　been　born。　A　board　of　turnip…headed　captains　has　refused　me　my　mission。　It　decided　that　my　mathematical　knowledge　was　insufficient　to　make　me　a　reliable　navigator。　And　so　Acting…Lieutenant　Simpson　is　once　again　Mr　Midshipman　Simpson；　at　your　service。　At　your　service。　And　may　the　Lord　have　mercy　on　your　souls。'
　It　did　not　seem；　as　the　days　went　by；　that　the　Lord　had　any　mercy　at　all；　for　with　Simpson's　return　life　in　the　midshipmen's　berth　ceased　to　be　one　of　passive　unhappiness　and　became　one　of　active　misery。　Simpson　had　apparently　always　been　an　ingenious　tyrant；　but　now；　embittered　and　humiliated　by　his　failure　to　pass　his　examination　for　his　mission；　he　was　a　worse　tyrant；　and　his　ingenuity　had　multiplied　itself。　He　may　have　been　weak　in　mathematics；　but　he　was　diabolically　clever　at　making　other　people's　lives　a　burden　to　them。　As　senior　officer　in　the　mess　he　had　wide　official　powers；　as　a　man　with　a　blistering　tongue　and　a　morbid　sense　of　mischief　he　would　have　been　powerful　anyway；　even　if　the　Justinian　had　possessed　an　alert　and　masterful　first　lieutenant　to　keep　him　in　check　while　Mr　Clay　was　neither。　Twice　midshipmen　rebelled　against　Simpson's　arbitrary　authority；　and　each　time　Simpson　thrashed　the　rebel；　pounding　him　into　insensibility　with　his　huge　fists；　for　Simpson　would　have　made　a　successful　prizefighter。　Each　time　Simpson　was　left　unmarked；　each　time　his　opponent's　blackened　eyes　and　swollen　lips　called　down　the　penalty　of　mast　heading　and　extra　duty　from　the　indignant　first　lieutenant。　The　mess　seethed　with　impotent　rage。　Even　the　toadies　and　lickspittles　among　the　midshipmen…and　naturally　there　were　several…hated　the　tyrant。
　Significantly；　it　was　not　his　ordinary　exactions　which　roused　the　greatest　resentment…his　levying　toll　upon　their　sea　chests　for　clean　shirts　for　himself；　his　appropriation　of　the　best　cuts　of　the　meat　served；　nor　even　his　taking　their　coveted　issues　of　spirits。　These　things　could　be　excused　as　understandable；　the　sort　of　thing　they　would　do　themselves　if　they　had　the　power。　But　he　displayed　a　whimsical　arbitrariness　which　reminded　Hornblower；　with　his　classical　education；　of　the　freaks　of　the　Roman　emperors。　He　forced　Cleveland　to　shave　the　whiskers　which　were　his　inordinate　pride；　he　imposed　upon　Hether　the　duty　of　waking　up　Mackenzie　every　half　hour；　day　and　night；　so　that　neither　of　them　was　able　to　sleep…and　there　were　toadies　ready　to　tell　him　if　Hether　ever　failed　in　his　task。　Early　enough　he　had　discovered　Hornblower's　most　vulnerable　points；　as　he　had　with　everyone　else。　He　knew　of　Hornblower's　shyness；　at　first　it　was　amusing　to　pel　Hornblower　to　recite　verses　from　Gray's　'Elegy　in　a　Country　Churchyard'　to　the　assembled　mess。　The　toadies　could　pel　Hornblower　to　do　it；　Simpson　would　lay　his　dirk…scabbard　on　the　table　in　front　of　him　with　a　significant　glance；　and　the　toadies　would　close　round　Hornblower；　who　knew　that　any　hesitation　on　his　part　would　mean　that　he　would　be　stretched　across　the　table　and　the　dirk…scabbard　applied；　the　flat　of　the　scabbard　was　painful；　the　edge　of　it　was　agonizing；　but　the　pain　was　nothing　to　the　utter　humiliation　of　it　all。　And　the　torment　grew　worse　when　Simpson　instituted　what　he　aptly　celled　'The　Proceedings　of　the　Inquisition'　when　Hornblower　was　submitted　to　a　slow　and　methodical　questioning　regarding　his　homelife　and　his　boyhood。　Every　question