csf.mrmidshipmanhornblower-第6部分

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　'You　are　determined；　then；　gentlemen；'　said　Masters。　'I　shall　have　to　state　that　fact　in　my　report。'
　'We　are　determined；'　said　Preston。
　'Then　there　is　nothing　for　it　but　to　allow　this　deplorable　affair　to　proceed。　I　left　the　pistols　in　the　charge　of　Doctor　Hepplewhite。'
　He　turned　and　led　them　towards　the　other　group…Simpson　with　Hether　and　Cleveland；　and　Doctor　Hepplewhite　standing　with　a　pistol　held　by　the　muzzle　in　each　hand。　He　was　a　bulky　man　with　the　red　face　of　a　persistent　drinker；　he　was　actually　grinning　a　spirituous　grin　at　that　moment；　rocking　a　little　on　his　feet。
　'Are　the　young　fools　set　in　their　folly？'　he　asked；　but　everyone　very　properly　ignored　him　as　having　no　business　to　ask　such　a　question　at　such　a　moment。
　'Now；'　said　Masters。　'Here　are　the　pistols；　both　primed；　as　you　see；　but　one　loaded　and　the　other　unloaded；　in　accordance　with　the　conditions。　I　have　here　a　guinea　which　I　propose　to　spin　to　decide　the　allocation　of　the　weapons。　Now；　gentlemen；　shall　the　spin　give　your　principals　one　pistol　each　irrevocably…for　instance；　if　the　coin　shows　heads　shall　Mr　Simpson　have　this　one…or　shall　the　winner　of　the　spin　have　choice　of　weapons　？　It　is　my　design　to　eliminate　all　possibility　of　collusion　as　far　as　possible。'
　Hether　and　Cleveland　and　Danvers　and　Preston　exchanged　dubious　glances。
　'Let　the　winner　of　the　spin　choose；'　said　Preston　at　length。
　'Very　well；　gentlemen。　Please　call；　Mr　Hornblower。'
　'Tails！'　said　Hornblower　as　the　gold　piece　spun　in　the　air。
　Masters　caught　it　and　clapped　a　hand　over　it。
　'Tails　it　is；'　said　Masters；　lifting　his　hand　and　revealing　the　coin　to　the　grouped　seconds。　'Please　make　your　choice。'
　Hepplewhite　held　out　the　two　pistols　to　him；　death　in　one　hand　and　life　in　the　other。　It　was　a　grim　moment。　There　was　only　pure　chance　to　direct　him；　it　called　for　a　little　effort　to　force　his　hand　out。
　'I'll　have　this　one；'　he　said；　as　he　touched　it　the　weapon　seemed　icy　cold。
　'Then　now　I　have　done　what　was　required　of　me；'　said　Masters。　'The　rest　is　for　you　gentlemen　to　carry　out。'
　'Take　this　one；　Simpson；'　said　Hepplewhite。　'And　be　careful　how　you　handle　yours；　Mr　Hornblower。　You're　a　public　danger。'
　The　man　was　still　grinning；　gloating　over　the　fact　that　someone　else　was　in　mortal　danger　while　he　himself　was　in　none。　Simpson　took　the　pistol　Hepplewhite　offered　him　and　settled　it　into　his　hand；　once　more　his　eyes　met　Hornblower's；　but　there　was　neither　recognition　nor　expression　in　them。
　'There　are　no　distances　to　step　out；'　Danvers　was　saying。　'One　spot's　as　good　as　another。　It's　level　enough　here。'
　'Very　good；'　said　Hether。　'Will　you　stand　here；　Mr　Simpson？'
　Preston　beckoned　to　Hornblower；　who　walked　over。　It　was　not　easy　to　appear　brisk　and　unconcerned。　Preston　took　him　by　the　arm　and　stood　him　up　in　front　of　Simpson；　almost　breast　to　breast…close　enough　to　smell　the　alcohol　on　his　breath。
　'For　the　last　time；　gentlemen；'　said　Masters　loudly。　'Cannot　you　be　reconciled？'
　There　was　no　answer　from　anybody；　only　deep　silence；　during　which　it　seemed　to　Hornblower　that　the　frantic　beating　of　his　heart　must　be　clearly　audible。　The　silence　was　broken　by　an　exclamation　from　Hether。
　'We　haven't　settled　who's　to　give　the　word！'　he　said。　'Who's　going　to？'
　'Let's　ask　Mr　Masters　to　give　it；'　said　Danvers。
　Hornblower　did　not　look　round。　He　was　looking　steadfastly　at　the　grey　sky　past　Simpson's　right　ear…somehow　he　could　not　look　him　in　the　face；　and　he　had　no　idea　where　Simpson　was　looking。　The　end　of　the　world　as　he　knew　it　was　close　to　him…soon　there　might　be　a　bullet　through　his　heart。
　'I　will　do　it　if　you　are　agreed；　gentlemen；'　he　heard　Masters　say。
　The　grey　sky　was　featureless；　for　this　last　look　on　the　world　he　might　as　well　have　been　blindfolded。　Masters　raised　his　voice　again。
　'I　will　say　〃one；　two；　three；　fire〃；'　he　announced；　'with　those　intervals。　At　the　last　word；　gentlemen；　you　can　fire　as　you　will。　Are　you　ready？'
　'Yes；'　came　Simpson's　voice；　almost　in　Hornblower's　ear；　it　seemed。
　'Yes；'　said　Hornblower。　He　could　hear　the　strain　in　his　own　voice。
　'One；'　said　Masters；　and　Hornblower　felt　at　that　moment　the　muzzle　of　Simpson's　pistol　against　his　left　ribs；　and　he　raised　his　own。
　It　was　in　that　second　that　he　decided　he　could　not　kill　Simpson　even　if　it　were　in　his　power；　and　he　went　on　lifting　his　pistol；　forcing　himself　to　look　to　see　that　it　was　pressed　against　the　point　of　Simpson's　shoulder。　A　slight　wound　would　suffice。
　'Two；'　said　Masters。　'Three。　Firel'
　Hornblower　pulled　his　trigger。　There　was　a　click　and　a　spurt　of　smoke　from　the　lock　of　his　pistol。　The　priming　had　gone　off　but　no　more…his　was　the　unloaded　weapon；　and　he　knew　what　it　was　to　die。　A　tenth　of　a　second　later　there　was　a　click　and　spurt　of　smoke　from　Simpson's　pistol　against　his　heart。　Stiff　and　still　they　both　stood；　slow　to　realize　what　had　happened。
　'A　miss…fire；　by　God！'　said　Danvers。
　The　seconds　crowded　round　them。
　'Give　me　those　pistols！'　said　Masters；　taking　them　from　the　weak　hands　that　held　them。　'The　loaded　one　might　be　hanging　fire；　and　we　don't　want　it　to　go　off　now。'
　'Which　was　the　loaded　one？'　asked　Hether；　consumed　with　curiosity。
　'That　is　something　it　is　better　not　to　know；'　answered　Masters；　changing　the　two　pistols　rapidly　from　hand　to　hand　so　as　to　confuse　everyone。
　'What　about　a　second　shot？'　asked　Danvers；　and　Masters　looked　up　straight　and　inflexibly　at　him。
　'There　will　be　no　second　shot；'　he　said。　'Honour　is　pletely　satisfied。　These　two　gentlemen　have　e　through　this　ordeal　extremely　well。　No　one　can　now　think　little　of　Mr　Simpson　if　he　expresses　his　regret　for　the　occurrence；　and　no　one　can　think　little　of　Mr　Hornblower　if　he　accepts　that　statement　in　reparation。'
　Hepplewhite　burst　into　a　roar　of　laughter。
　'Your　faces！'　he　boomed；　slapping　his　thigh。　'You　ought　to　see　how　you　all　look！　Solemn　as　cows！'
　'Mr　Hepplewhite；'　said　Masters；　'your　behaviour　is　indecorous。　Gentlemen；　our　coaches　are　waiting　on　the　road；　the　cutter　is　at　the　jetty。　And　I　think　all　of　us　would　be　the　better　for　some　breakfast；　including　Mr　Hepplewhite。
　That　should　have　been　the　end　of　the　incident。　The　excited　talk　which　had　gone　round　the　anchored　squadron　about　the　unusual　duel　died　away　in　time；　although　everyone　knew　Hornblower's　name　now；　and　not　as　the　midshipman　who　was　seasick　in　Spithead　but　as　the　man　who　was　willing　to　take　an　even　chance　in　cold　blood。　But　in　the　Justinian　herself　there　was　other　talk；　whispers　which　were　circulated　forward　and　aft。
　'Mr　Hornblower　has　requested　permission　to　speak　to　you；　sir；'　said　Mr　Clay；　the　first　lieutenant；　one　morning　while　making　his　report　to　the　captain。
　'Oh；　send　him　in　when　you　go　out；'　said　Keene；　and　sighed。
　Ten　minutes　later　a　knock　on　his　cabin　door　ushered　in　a　very　angry　young　man。
　'Sir！'　began　Hornblower。
　'I　can　guess　what　you're　going　to　say；'　said　Keene。
　'Those　pistols　in　the　duel　I　fought　with　Simpson　were　not　loaded！'
　'Hepplewhite　blabbed；　I　suppose；'　said　Keene。
　'And　it　was　by　your　orders；　I　understand；　sir。'
　'You　are　quite　correct。　I　gave　those　orders　to　Mr　Masters。'
　'It　was　an　unwarrantable　liberty；　sir！'
　That　was　what　Hornblower　meant　to　say；　but　he　stumbled　without　dignity　over　the　polysyllables。
　'Possibly　it　was；'　said　Keene　patiently；　rearranging；　as　always；　the　papers　on　his　desk。
　The　calmness　of　the　admission　disconcerted　Hornblower；　who　could　only　splutter　for　the　next　few　moments。
　'I　saved　a　life　for　the　King's　service；'　went　on　Keene；　when　the　spluttering　died　away。　'A　young　life。　No　one　has　suffered　any　harm。　On　the　other　hand；　both　you　and　Simpson　have　had　your　courage　amply　proved。　You　both　know　you　can　stand　fire　now；　and　so　does　every　one　else。'
　'You　have　touched　my　personal　honour；　sir；'　said　Hornblower；　bringing　out　one　of　his　rehearsed　speeches；　'for　that　there　can　only　be　one　remedy。'
　'Restrain　yourself；　please；　Mr　Hornblower。'　Keene　shifted　himself　in　his　chair　with　a　wince　of　pain　as　he　prepared　to　make　a　speech。　'I　must　remind　you　of　one　salutary　regulation　of　the　Navy；　to　the　effect　that　no　junior　officer　can　challenge　his　superior　to　a　duel。　The　reasons　for　it　are　obvious…otherwise　promotion　would　be　too　easy。　The　mere　issuing　of　a　challenge　by　a　junior　to　a　senior　is　a　court…martial　offence；　Mr　Hornblower。'
　'Oh！'　said　Hornblower　feebly。
　'Now　here　is　some　gratuitous　advice；'　went　on　Keene。　'You　have　fought　one　duel　and　emerged　with　honour。　That　is　good。　Never　fight　another…that　is　better。　Some　people；　oddly　enough；　acquire　a　taste　for　duelling；　as　a　tiger　acquires　a　taste　for　blood。　They　are　never　good　officers；　and　never　popular　ones　either。'
　It　was　then　that　Hornblower　realized　that　a　great　part　of　the　keen　excitement　with　which　he　had　entered　the　captain's　cabin　was　due　to　anticipation　of　the　giving　of　the　challenge。　There　could　be　a　morbid　desire　for　danger…and　a　morbid　desire　to　occupy　momentarily　the　centre　of　the　stage。　Keene　was　waiting　for　him　to　speak；　and　it　was　hard　to　say　anything。
　'I　understand；　sir；'　he　said　at　last。
　Keene　shifted　in　his　chair　again。
　'There　is　another　matter　I　wanted　to　take　up　with　you；　Mr　Hornblower。　Captain　Pellew　of