csf.mrmidshipmanhornblower-第34部分

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e　hand　with　which　he　drew　his　cutlass　was　sticky　with　blood。　Spanish　blood。　Rising；　he　hit　his　head　a　thunderous　crash　on　the　deck…beams　above；　for　the　little　cabin　was　very　low；　hardly　more　than　five　feet；　and　so　severe　was　the　blow　that　his　senses　almost　left　him。　But　before　him　was　the　cabin　door　and　he　reeled　out　through　it；　cutlass　in　hand。　Over　his　head　he　heard　a　stamping　of　feet；　and　shots　were　fired　behind　him　and　above　him…a　further　exchange；　he　presumed；　between　the　jolly　boat　and　the　galley's　stern　rail。　The　cabin　door　opened　into　a　low　half…deck；　and　Hornblower　reeled　along　it　out　into　the　sunshine　again。　He　was　on　the　tiny　strip　of　maindeck　at　the　break　of　the　poop。　Before　him　stretched　the　narrow　gangway　between　the　two　sets　of　rowers；　he　could　look　down　at　these　latter　…　two　seas　of　bearded　faces；　mops　of　hair　and　lean　sunburned　bodies；　swinging　rhythmically　back　and　forward　to　the　beat　of　the　oars。
　That　was　all　the　impression　he　could　form　of　them　at　the　moment。　At　the　far　end　of　the　gangway　at　the　break　of　the　forecastle　stood　the　overseer　with　his　whip；　he　was　shouting　words　in　rhythmic　succession　to　the　slaves…Spanish　numbers；　perhaps；　to　give　them　the　time。　There　were　three　or　four　men　on　the　forecastle；　below　them　the　half…doors　through　the　forecastle　bulkhead　were　hooked　open；　through　which　Hornblower　could　see　the　two　big　guns　illuminated　by　the　light　through　the　port　holes　out　of　which　they　were　run　almost　at　the　water　level。　The　guns'　crews　were　standing　by　the　guns；　but　numerically　they　were　far　fewer　than　two　twenty…four　pounders　would　demand。　'Hornblower　remembered　Wales'　estimate　of　no　more　than　thirty　for　a　galley's　crew。　The　men　of　one　gun　at　least　had　been　called　aft　to　defend　the　poop　against　the　jolly　boat's　attack。
　A　step　behind　him　made　him　leap　with　anxiety　and　he　swung　round　with　his　cutlass　ready　to　meet　Jackson　stumbling　out　of　the　half　deck；　cutlass　in　hand。
　'Nigh　on　cracked　my　nut；'　said　Jackson。
　He　was　speaking　thickly　like　a　drunken　man；　and　his　words　were　chorused　by　further　shots　fired　from　the　poop　at　the　level　of　the　top　of　their　heads。
　'Oldroyd's　in'　next；'　said　Jackson。　'Franklin's　dead。'
　On　either　side　of　them　a　panion　ladder　mounted　to　the　poop　deck。　It　seemed　logical；　mathematical；　that　they　should　each　go　up　one　but　Hornblower　thought　better　of　it。
　'e　along；'　he　said；　and　headed　for　the　starboard　ladder；　and；　with　Oldroyd　putting　in　an　appearance　at　that　moment；　he　yelled　to　him　to　follow。
　The　handropes　of　the　ladder　were　of　twisted　red　and　yellow　cord…he　even　could　notice　that　as　he　rushed　up　the　ladder；　pistol　in　hand　and　cutlass　in　the　other。　After　the　first　step；　his　eye　was　above　deck　level。　There　were　more　than　a　dozen　men　crowded　on　the　tiny　poop；　but　two　were　lying　dead；　and　one　was　groaning　with　his　back　to　the　rail；　and　two　stood　by　the　tiller。　The　others　were　looking　over　the　rail　at　the　jolly　boat。　Hornblower　was　still　insane　with　fighting　madness。　He　must　have　leaped　up　the　final　two　or　three　steps　with　a　bound　like　a　stag's；　and　he　was　screaming　like　a　maniac　as　he　flung　himself　at　the　Spaniards。　His　pistol　went　off　apparently　without　his　willing　it；　but　the　face　of　the　man　a　yard　away　dissolved　into　bloody　ruin；　and　Hornblower　dropped　the　weapon　and　snatched　the　second；　his　thumb　going　to　the　hammer　as　he　whirled　his　cutlass　down　with　a　crash　on　the　sword　which　the　next　Spaniard　raised　as　a　feeble　guard。　He　struck　and　struck　and　struck　with　a　lunatic's　strength。　Here　was　Jackson　beside　him　shouting　hoarsely　and　striking　out　right　and　left。
　'Kill　'em！　Kill　'em！'　shouted　Jackson。
　Hornblower　saw　Jackson's　cutlass　flash　down　on　the　head　of　the　defenceless　man　at　the　tiller。　Then　out　of　the　tail　of　his　eye　he　saw　another　sword　threaten　him　as　he　battered　with　his　cutlass　at　the　man　before　him；　but　his　pistol　saved　him　as　he　fired　automatically　again。　Another　pistol　went　off　beside　him…Oldroyd's；　he　supposed…and　then　the　fight　on　the　poop　was　over。　By　what　miracle　of　ineptitude　the　Spaniards　had　allowed　the　attack　to　take　them　by　surprise　Hornblower　never　could　discover。　Perhaps　they　were　ignorant　of　the　wounding　of　the　man　in　the　cabin；　and　had　relied　on　him　to　defend　that　route；　perhaps　it　had　never　occurred　to　them　that　three　men　could　be　so　utterly　desperate　as　to　attack　a　dozen；　perhaps　they　never　realized　that　three　men　had　made　the　perilous　passage　of　the　grapnel　line；　perhaps…most　probably…in　the　mad　excitement　of　it　all；　they　simply　lost　their　heads；　for　five　minutes　could　hardly　have　elapsed　altogether　from　the　time　the　jolly　boat　hooked　on　until　the　poop　was　cleared。　Two　of　three　Spaniards　ran　down　the　panion　to　the　maindeck　and　forward　along　the　gangway　between　the　rows　of　slaves。　One　was　caught　against　the　rail　and　made　a　gesture　of　surrender；　but　Jackson's　hand　was　already　at　his　throat。　Jackson　was　a　man　of　immense　physical　strength；　he　bent　the　Spaniard　back　over　the　rail；　farther　and　farther；　and　then　caught　him　by　the　thigh　with　his　other　hand　and　heaved　him　over。　He　fell　with　a　shriek　before　Hornblower　could　interpose。　The　poop　deck　was　covered　with　writhing　men；　like　the　bottom　of　a　boat　filled　with　flapping　fish。　One　man　was　getting　to　his　knees　when　Jackson　and　Oldroyd　seized　him。　They　swung　him　up　to　toss　him　over　the　rail。
　'Stop　that！'　said　Hornblower；　and　quite　callously　they　dropped　him　again　with　a　crash　on　the　bloody　planks。
　Jackson　and　Oldroyd　were　like　drunken　men；　unsteady　on　their　feet；　glazed　of　eye　and　stertorous　of　breath；　Horn　blower　was　just　ing　out　of　his　insane　fit。　He　stepped　forward　to　the　break　of　the　poop；　wiping　the　sweat　out　of　his　eyes　while　trying　to　wipe　away　the　red　mist　that　tinged　his　vision。　Forward　by　the　forecastle　were　gathered　the　rest　of　the　Spaniards；　a　large　group　of　them；　as　Hornblower　came　forward；　one　of　them　fired　a　musket　at　him　but　the　ball　went　wide。　Down　below　him　the　rowers　were　still　swinging　rhythmically；　forward　and　back；　forward　and　back；　the　hairy　heads　and　the　naked　bodies　moving　in　time　to　the　oars；　in　time　to　the　voice　of　the　overseer；　too；　for　the　latter　was　still　standing　on　the　gangway　（the　rest　of　the　Spaniards　were　clustered　behind　him）　calling　the　time…'Seis；　siete；　echo。'
　'Stop！'　bellowed　Hornblower。
　He　walked　to　the　starboard　side　to　be　in　full　view　of　the　starboard　side　rowers。　He　held　up　his　hand　and　bellowed　again。　A　hairy　face　or　two　was　raised；　but　the　oars　still　swung。
　'Uno；　doce；　tree；'　said　the　overseer。
　Jackson　appeared　at　Hornblower's　elbow；　and　levelled　a　pistol　to　shoot　the　nearest　rower。
　'Oh；　belay　that！'　said　Hornblower　testily。　He　knew　he　was　sick　of　killings　now。　'Find　my　pistols　and　reload　them。'
　He　stood　at　the　top　of　the　panion　like　a　man　in　a　dream…in　a　nightmare。　The　galley　slaves　went　on　swinging　and　pulling；　his　dozen　enemies　were　still　clustered　at　the　break　of　the　forecastle　thirty　yards　away；　behind　him　the　wounded　Spaniards　groaned　away　their　lives。　Another　appeal　to　the　rowers　was　as　much　ignored　as　the　preceding　ones。　Oldroyd　must　have　had　the　clearest　head　or　have　recovered　himself　quickest。
　'I'll　haul　down　his　colours；　sir；　shall　I？'　he　said。
　Hornblower　woke　from　his　dream。　On　a　staff　above　the　taffrail　fluttered　the　yellow　and　red。
　'Yes；　haul　'em　down　at　once；'　he　said。
　Now　his　mind　was　clear；　and　now　his　horizon　was　no　longer　bounded　by　the　narrow　limits　of　the　galley。　He　looked　about　him；　over　the　blue；　blue　sea。　There　were　the　merchant　ships；　over　there　lay　the　Indefatigable。　Behind　him　boiled　the　white　wake　of　the　galley…a　curved　wake。　Not　until　that　moment　did　he　realize　that　he　was　in　control　of　the　tiller；　and　that　for　the　last　three　minutes；　the　galley　had　been　cutting　over　the　blue　seas　unsteered。
　'Take　the　tiller；　Oldroyd；'　he　ordered。
　Was　that　a　galley　disappearing　into　the　hazy　distance？　It　must　be；　and　far　in　its　wake　was　the　longboat。　And　there；　on　the　port　bow；　was　the　gig；　resting　on　her　oars…Hornblower　could　see　little　figures　standing　waving　in　bow　and　stern；　and　it　dawned　upon　him　that　this　was　in　acknowledgement　of　the　hauling　down　of　the　Spanish　colours。　Another　musket　banged　off　forward；　and　the　rail　close　at　his　hip　was　struck　a　tremendous　blow　which　sent　gilded　splinters　flying　in　the　sunlight。　But　he　had　all　his　wits　about　him　again；　and　he　ran　back　over　the　dying　men；　at　the　after　end　of　the　poop　he　was　out　of　sight　of　the　gangway　and　safe　from　shot。　He　could　still　see　the　gig　on　the　port　bow。
　'Starboard　your　helm；　Oldroyd。'
　The　galley　turned　slowly…her　narrow　length　made　her　unhandy　if　the　rudder　were　not　assisted　by　the　oars…but　soon　the　bow　was　about　to　obscure　the　gig。
　'Midships！'
　Amazing　that　there；　leaping　in　the　white　water　that　boiled　under　the　galley's　stern；　was　the　jolly　boat　with　one　live　man　and　two　dead　men　still　aboard。
　'Where　are　the　others；　Bromley？'　yelled　Jackson。
　Bromley　pointed　overside。　They　had　been　shot　from　the　taffrail　at　the　moment　that　Hornblower　and　the　others　were　preparing　to　attack　the　poop。
　'Why　in　hell　don't　you　e　aboard？'
　Bromley　took　hold　of　his　left　arm　with　his　right；　the　limb　was　clearly　useless。　There　was　no　reinforcement　to　be　obtained　here；　and　yet　full　possession　must　be　taken　of　the　galley。　Otherwis