men were still at the tackles, and the gun had gone off on its own volition as they ran it up. A man sat crying out with pain, for the carriage had recoiled over his foot and blood was already pouring from it on to the stone floor. The captains of the other two loaded guns made no pretence at training and aiming. The moment their guns were run up they shouted Stand clear! and fired.
Carry him down to Mr. Pierce, said Hornblower, indicating the injured man. Now lets see about these shot.
Hornblower returned to Bush with a rueful look on his face, embarrassed and selfconscious.
Whats the trouble? asked Bush.
These shot are too hot, explained Hornblower. Damn it, I didnt think of that. Theyre half melted in the furnace and gone out of shape so that they wont fit the bore. What a fool I was not to think of that.
As his superior officer, Bush did not admit that he had not thought of it either. He said nothing.
And the ones that hadnt gone out of shape were too hot anyway, went on Hornblower. Im the damnedest fool God ever made. Mad as a hatter. Did you see how that gun went off? The menll be scared now and wont lay their guns properlytoo anxious to fire it off before the recoil catches them. God, Im a careless son of a swab.
Easy, easy, said Bush, a prey to conflicting emotions.
Hornblower pounding his left hand with his right fist as he upbraided himself was a comic sight; Bush could not help laughing at him. And Bush knew perfectly well that Hornblower had done excellently so far, really excellently, to have mastered at a moments notice so much of the technique of using redhot shot. Moreover, it must be confessed that Bush had experienced, during this expedition, more than one moment of pique at Hornblowers invariable bold assumption of responsibility; and the pique may even have been roused by a stronger motive, jealousy at Hornblowers good managementan unworthy motive, which Bush would disclaim with shocked surprise if he became aware of it. Yet it made the sight of Hornblowers present discomfiture all the more amusing at the moment.
Dont take on so, said Bush with a grin.
But it makes me wild to be such a
Hornblower cut the sentence off short. Bush could actually see him calling up his selfcontrol and mastering himself, could see his annoyance at having been selfrevelatory, could see the mask of the stoical and experienced fighting man put back into place to conceal the furious passions within.
Would you take charge here, sir? he said; it might be another person speaking. Ill go and take a look at the furnace, if I may. Theyll have to go easy with those bellows.
Very good, Mr. Hornblower. Send the ammunition up and Ill direct the fire on the schooner.
Aye aye, sir. Ill send up the last shot to go into the furnace. They wont be too hot yet, sir.
Hornblower went darting down the ramp while Bush moved behind the guns to direct the fire. The fresh charges came up and were rammed home, the wet wads went in on top of the dry wads, and then the bearers began to arrive with the shot.
Steady, all of you, said Bush. These wont be as hot as the last batch. Take your aim carefully.
But when Bush climbed on to the parapet and trained his telescope on the second schooner he could see that the schooner was changing her mind. She had brailed up her foresail and taken in her jibs; her boats were lying at an angle to her course, and were struggling, beetlelike, off her bows. They were pulling her roundshe was going back up the bay and deciding not to run the gauntlet of the redhot shot. There was the smouldering wreck of her consort to frighten her.
Shes turning tail! said Bush loudly. Hit her while you can, you men.
He saw the shot curving in the air, he saw the splashes in the water; he remembered how yesterday he had seen a ricochet shot from these very guns rebound from the water and strike the Renown s massive sideone of the splashes was dead true for line, and might well indicate a hit.
Fresh charges! he bellowed, turning to make himself heard down at the magazine. Sponge out!
But by the time the charges were in the guns the schooner had got her head right round, had reset her foresail, and was creeping back up the bay. Judging by the splashes of the last salvo she would be out of range before the next could be fired.
Mr. Hornblower!
Sir!
Vast sending any shot.
Aye aye, sir.
When Hornblower came up again to the battery Bush pointed to the retreating schooner.
He thought better of it, did he? commented Hornblower. Yes, and those other two have anchored, I should say.
His fingers were twitching for the one telescope again, and Bush handed it over.
The other two arent moving either, said Hornblower, and then he swung round and trained the telescope down the bay towards the sea. Renown s gone about. Shes caught the wind. Six miles? Seven miles? Shell be rounding the point in an hour.
It was Bushs turn to grab for the telescope. There was no mistaking the trim of those topsails. From the Renown he transferred his attention to the opposite shore of the bay. There was the other battery with the Spanish flag above itthe flag was now drooping, now flapping lazily in the light wind prevailing over the shore. He could make out no sign of activity whatever, and there was some finality in his gesture as he closed the telescope and looked at his second in command.