csf.mrmidshipmanhornblower-第36部分

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　Hornblower　was　about　to　say　'I　suppose　so；　sir；'　but　checked　himself。
　'Yes；　sir；'　he　said…Pellew　hated　slipshod　answers。
　'Very　well；　then。　You　report　there　at　three　P。M。　with　your　certificates　and　journals。'
　'Aye　aye；　sir。'
　That　was　a　very　brief　　conversation　for　such　an　important　subject。　Hornblower　had　Pellew's　order　as　acting…lieutenant　for　two　months　now。　To…morrow　he　would　take　his　examination。　If　he　should　pass　the　admiral　would　confirm　the　order　next　day；　and　Hornblower　would　be　a　lieutenant　with　two　month's　seniority　already。　But　if　he　should　fail！　That　would　mean　he　had　been　found　unfit　for　lieutenant's　rank。　He　would　revert　to　midshipman；　the　two　months'　seniority　would　be　lost；　and　it　would　be　six　months　at　least　before　he　could　try　again。　Eight　months'　seniority　was　a　matter　of　enormous　importance。　It　would　affect　all　his　subsequent　career。
　'Tell　Mr　Bolton　you　have　my　permission　to　leave　the　ship　to…morrow；　and　you　may　use　one　of　the　ship's　boats。'
　'Thank　you；　sir。'
　'Good　luck；　Hornblower。'
　During　the　next　twenty…four　hours　Hornblower　had　not　merely　to　try　to　read　all　through　Norie's　Epitome　of　Navigation　again；　and　Clarke's　plete　Handbook　of　Seamanship；　but　he　had　to　see　that　his　number　one　uniform　was　spick　and　span。　It　cost　his　spirit　ration　to　prevail　on　the　warrant　cook　to　allow　the　gunroom　attendant　to　heat　a　flatiron　in　the　galley　and　iron　out　his　neck　handkerchief　Bracegirdle　lent　him　a　clean　shirt；　but　there　was　a　feverish　moment　when　it　was　discovered　that　the　gunroom's　supply　of　shoe　blacking　had　dried　to　a　chip。　Two　midshipmen　had　to　work　it　soft　with　lard；　and　the　resultant　pound；　when　applied　to　Hornblower's　buckled　shoes；　was　stubbornly　resistant　to　taking　a　polish；　only　much　labour　with　the　gunroom's　moulting　shoebrush　and　then　with　a　soft　cloth　brought　those　shoes　up　to　a　condition　of　brightness　worthy　of　an　examination　for　lieutenant。　And　as　for　the　cocked　hat…the　life　of　a　cocked　hat　in　the　midshipman's　berth　is　hard；　and　some　of　the　dents　could　not　be　entirely　eliminated。
　'Take　it　off　as　soon　as　you　can　and　keep　it　under　your　arm；'　advised　Bracegirdle。　'Maybe　they　won't　see　you　e　up　the　ship's　side。'
　Everybody　turned　out　to　see　Hornblower　leave　the　ship；　with　his　sword　and　his　white　breeches　and　his　buckled　shoes；　his　bundle　of　journals　under　his　arm　and　his　certificates　of　sobriety　and　good　conduct　in　his　pocket。　The　winter　afternoon　was　already　far　advanced　as　he　was　rowed　over　to　the　Santa　Barbara　and　went　up　the　ship's　side　to　report　himself　to　the　officer　of　the　watch。
　The　Santa　Barbara　was　a　prison　hulk；　one　of　the　prizes　captured　in　Rodney's　action　off　Cadiz　in　1780　and　kept　rotting　at　her　moorings；　mastless；　ever　since；　a　storeship　in　time　of　peace　and　a　prison　in　time　of　war。　Redcoated　soldiers；　muskets　loaded　and　bayonets　fixed；　guarded　the　gangways；　on　forecastle　and　quarterdeck　were　carronades；　trained　inboard　and　depressed　to　sweep　the　waist；　wherein　a　few　prisoners　took　the　air；　ragged　and　unhappy。　As　Hornblower　came　up　the　side　he　caught　a　whiff　of　the　stench　within；　where　two　thousand　prisoners　were　confined。　Hornblower　reported　himself　to　the　officer　of　the　watch　as　e　on　board；　and　for　what　purpose。
　'Whoever　would　have　guessed　it？'　said　the　officer　of　the　watch…an　elderly　lieutenant　with　white　hair　hanging　down　to　his　shoulders…running　his　eye　over　Hornblower's　immaculate　uniform　and　the　portfolio　under　his　arm。　'Fifteen　of　your　kind　have　already　e　on　board；　and…Holy　Gemini；　see　there！'
　Quite　a　flotilla　of　small　craft　was　closing　in　on　the　Santa　Barbara。　Each　boat　held　at　least　one　cocked…hatted　and　white…breached　midshipman；　and　some　held　four　or　five。
　'Every　courtesy　young　gentleman　in　the　Mediterranean　Fleet　is　ambitious　for　an　epaulet；'　said　the　lieutenant。　'Just　wait　until　the　examining　board　sees　how　many　there　are　of　you！　I　wouldn't　be　in　your　shoes；　young　shaver；　for　something。　Go　aft；　there；　and　wait　in　the　portside　cabin。'
　It　was　already　unfortably　full；　when　Hornblower　entered；　fifteen　pairs　of　eyes　measured　him　up。　There　were　officers　of　all　ages　from　eighteen　to　forty；　all　in　their　number　one's；　all　nervous…one　or　two　of　them　had　Norie's　Epitome　open　on　their　laps　and　were　anxiously　reading　passages　about　which　they　were　doubtful。　One　little　group　was　passing　a　bottle　from　hand　to　hand；　presumably　in　an　effort　to　keep　up　their　courage。　But　no　sooner　had　Hornblower　entered　than　a　stream　of　newers　followed　him。　The　cabin　began　to　fill；　and…soon　it　was　tightly　packed。　Half　the　forty　men　present　found　seats　on　the　deck；　and　the　others　were　forced　to　stand。
　'Forty　years　back；'　said　a　loud　voice　somewhere；　'my　grandad　marched　with　Clive　to　revenge　the　Black　Hole　of　Calcutta。　If　he　could　but　have　witnessed　the　fate　of　his　posterity！'
　'Have　a　drink；'　said　another　voice；　'and　to　hell　with　care。'
　'Forty　of　us；'　mented　a　tall；　thin；　clerkly　officer；　counting　heads。　'How　many　of　us　will　they　pass；　do　you　think？　Five？'
　'To　hell　with　care；'　repeated　the　bibulous　voice　in　the　corner；　and　lifted　itself　in　song。　'Begone；　dull　care；　I　prithee　be　gone　from　me…'
　'Cheese　it；　you　fool！'　rasped　another　voice。　'Hark　to　that！'
　The　air　was　filled　with　the　long…drawn　twittering　of　the　pipes　of　the　bos'n's　mates；　and　someone　on　deck　was　shouting　an　order。
　'A　captain　ing　on　board；'　remarked　someone。
　An　officer　had　his　eye　at　the　crack　of　the　door。　'It's　Dreadnought　Foster；'　he　reported。
　'He's　a　tail　twister　if　ever　there　was　one；'　said　a　fat　young　officer；　seated　fortably　with　his　back　to　the　bulkhead。
　Again　the　pipes　twittered。
　'Harvey；　of　the　dockyard；'　reported　the　lookout。
　The　third　captain　followed　immediately。　'It's　Black　Charlie　Hammond；'　said　the　lookout。　'Looking　as　if　he'd　lost　a　guinea　and　found　sixpence。'
　'Black　Charlie？'　exclaimed　someone；　scrambling　to　his　feet　in　haste　and　pushing　to　the　door。　'Let's　see！　So　it　is！　Then　here　is　one　young　gentleman　who　will　not　stay　for　an　answer。　I　know　too　well　what　that　answer　would　be。　''Six　months　more　at　sea；　sir；　and　damn　your　eyes　for　your　impertinence　in　presenting　yourself　for　examination　in　your　present　state　of　ignorance。''　Black　Charlie　won't　ever　forget　that　I　lost　his　pet　poodle　overside　from　the　cutter　in　Port…o'…Spain　when　he　was　first　of　the　Pegasus。　Good…bye；　gentlemen。　Give　my　regards　to　the　examining　board。'
　With　that　he　was　gone；　and　they　saw　him　explaining　himself　to　the　officer　of　the　watch　and　hailing　a　shore　boat　to　take　him　back　to　his　ship。　'One　fewer　of　us；　at　least；'　said　the　clerkly　officer。　'What　is　it；　my　man？'
　'The　board's　pliments；　sir；'　said　the　marine　messenger；　'an'　will　the　first　young　gentleman　please　to　e　along？'
　There　was　a　momentary　hesitation；　no　one　was　anxious　to　be　the　first　victim。
　'The　one　nearest　the　door；'　said　an　elderly　master's　mate。　'Will　you　volunteer；　sir？'
　'I'll　be　the　Daniel；'　said　the　erstwhile　lookout　desperately。　'Remember　me　in　your　prayers。'
　He　pulled　his　coat　smooth；　twitched　at　his　neckcloth；　and　was　gone；　the　remainder　waiting　in　gloomy　silence；　relieved　only　by　the　glug…glug　of　the　bottle　as　the　bibulous　midshipman　took　another　swig。　A　full　ten　minutes　passed　before　the　candidate　for　promotion　returned；　making　a　brave　effort　to　smile。
　'Six　months　more　at　sea？'　asked　someone。
　'No；'　was　the　unexpected　answer。　'Three！　。　。　。　I　was　told　to　send　the　next　man。　It　had　better　be　you。'
　'But　what　did　they　ask　you？'
　'They　began　by　asking　me　to　define　a　rhumb　line。　　。　。　。　But　don't　keep　them　waiting；　I　advise　you。'　Some　thirty　officers　had　their　textbooks　open　on　the　instant　to　reread　about　thumb　lines。
　'You　were　there　ten　minutes；'　said　the　clerkly　officer；　looking　at　his　watch。　'Forty　of　us；　ten　minutes　each…why；　it'll　be　midnight　before　they　reach　the　last　of　us。　They'll　never　do　it。'
　'They'll　be　hungry。'　said　someone。
　'Hungry　for　our　blood；'　said　another。
　'Perhaps　they'll　try　us　in　batches；'　suggested　a　third；　'like　the　French　tribunals。'
　Listening　to　them；　Hornblower　was　reminded　of　French　aristocrats　jesting　at　the　foot　of　the　scaffold。　Candidates　departed　and　candidates　returned；　some　gloomy；　some　smiling。　The　cabin　was　already　far　less　crowded；　Hornblower　was　able　to　secure　sufficient　deck　space　to　seat　himself；　and　he　stretched　out　his　legs　with　a　nonchalant　sigh　of　relief；　and　he　no　sooner　emitted　the　sigh　than　he　realized　that　it　was　a　stage　effect　which　he　had　put　on　for　his　own　benefit。　He　was　as　nervous　as　he　could　be。　The　winter　night　was　falling；　and　some　good　Samaritan　on　board　sent　in　a　couple　of　purser's　dips　to　give　a　feeble　illumination　to　the　darkening　cabin。
　'They　are　passing　one　in　three；'　said　the　clerkly　officer；　making　ready　for　his　turn。　'May　I　be　the　third。'
　Hornblower　got　to　his　feet　again　when　he　left；　it　would　be　his　turn　next。　He　stepped　out　under　the　halfdeck　into　the　dark　night　and　breathed　the　chill　fresh　air。　A　gentle　breeze　was　blowing　from　the　southward；　cooled；　presumably；　by　the　snow…clad　Atlas　Mountains　of　Africa　across　the　strait。　There　was　neither　moon　nor　stars。　Here　came　the　clerkly　officer　back　again。
　'Hurry；'　he　said。　'They're　impatient。'
　Hornblower　made　his　way　past　the　sentry　to　the　after　cabin；　it　was　brightly　lit；