I drew this sword for the Emperor, said Cambronne. I shall never draw it again.
He took the blade in both hands close to the hilt, and put it across his lifted knee. With a convulsive effort of his lean, powerful body he snapped the blade across, and, turning, he flung the fragments into the sea. The sound that came from the Old Guard was like a long drawn moan. One man took his musket by the muzzle, swung the butt over his head, and brought it crashing down on the deck, breaking the weapon at the small of the butt. Others followed his example. The muskets rained overside.
The American captain was regarding the scene apparently unmoved, as if nothing more would ever surprise him, but the unlit cigar in his mouth was now much shorter, and he must have chewed off the end. He approached Hornblower obviously to ask the explanation of the scene, but the French adjutant interposed.
France, said the adjutant. We go to France.
France? repeated the captain. Not?
He did not say the words St Helena, but they were implicit in his expression.
France, repeated the adjutant, heavily.
Cambronne came towards them, stiffer and straighter than ever as he mastered his emotion.
I will intrude no further on your sorrow, Count, said Hornblower. Remember always you have the sympathy of an Englishman.
Cambronne would remember those words later, when he found he had been tricked by a dishonourable Englishman, but they had to be said at this moment, all the same.
I will remember, said Cambronne. He was forcing himself to observe the necessary formalities. I must thank you, milord, for your courtesy and consideration.
I have done my duty towards the world, said Hornblower.
He would not hold out his hand; Cambronne later would feel contaminated if he touched him. He came stiffly to attention and raised his hand instead in salute.
Goodbye, Count, he said. I hope we shall meet again in happier circumstances.
Goodbye, milord, said Cambronne, heavily.
Hornblower climbed into the mizzen chains and the boat pulled in to him, and he fell, rather than climbed, into the stern-sheets.
Give way, he said. No one could feel as utterly exhausted as he felt. No one could feel as utterly unhappy.
They were waiting for him eagerly on board Crab, Harcourt and Gerard and the others. He still had to preserve an unmoved countenance as he went on board. He still had duties to do.
You can let Daring go past, Mr. Harcourt, he said. It is all arranged.
Arranged, My Lord? This was from Gerard.
Cambronne has given up the attempt. They are going quietly to France.
France? To France? My Lord?
You heard what I said.
They looked across the strip of sea, purple now in the dying day; Daring was bracing round her yards to catch the faint breeze that was blowing.
Your orders are to let them pass, My Lord? persisted
Gerard.
Yes, damn you, said Hornblower, and instantly regretted the flash of rage and bad language. He turned to the other. Mr. Harcourt, we can now proceed into Port of Spain. I presume that even if the wind is fair you will prefer not to risk the Dragons Mouth by night. You have my permission to wait until daylight.
Aye aye, my Lord.
Even then they would not leave him in peace as he turned to go below.
Dinner, My Lord? asked Gerard. Ill give orders for it at once.
Hopeless to snarl back that he wanted no dinner; the discussion that would have ensued would have been worse than going through the form of eating dinner. Even so it meant that on entering his cabin he could not do as he wanted and fall on his cot with his face in his hands and abandon himself to his misery. He had to sit up stiff and square while Giles laid and served and cleared away, while the tropical sunset flamed in the sky and black night swooped down upon the little ship on the purple sea. Only then, after Giless last Goodnight, My Lord, could he think again, and work back through all the horror of his thoughts.
He had ceased to be a gentleman. He was disgraced. Everything was at an end. He would have to resign his commandhe would have to resign his commission. How would he ever face Barbara? When little Richard grew up and could understand what had happened how would he ever be able to meet his eyes? And Barbaras aristocratic family would sneer knowingly to each other. And never again would he walk a quarterdeck, and never again step on board with his hand to his hat and the bosuns calls shrilling in salute. Never again; his professional life was at an endeverything was at an end. He had made the sacrifice deliberately and cold-bloodedly, but that did not make it any less horrible.
His thoughts moved into the other half of the circle. He could have done nothing else. If he had turned aside to Kingston or Port of Spain Daring would have slipped past him, as her time of arrival off Tobago proved, and any additional strength he might have brought with himif any, as was not likelywould have been useless. If he had stayed at Kingston and sent a despatch to London? If he had done that he might at least have covered himself with the authorities. But it would have been unavailing. How much time would elapse between the arrival of his letter in London and the arrival of Daring on the coast of France with Bonaparte on board? Two week; Very likely less than that. The clerks at the Admiralty would have treated his despatch at first as coming from a madman. There would be delay in its reaching the First Lords hands, delay in its being laid before the Cabinet, delay while action was being debated, delay while the French ambassador was informed, delay while joint action was being agreed upon.