and pulled on his heavy uniform coat again. He hung the red ribbon over his shoulder, adjusted his star, and was ready to face the next situation. The darkness of evening was descending, but it had not brought much relief from the heat; on the contrary, the drawing-room of Mr. Sharpes house was brightly lit with wax candles that made it feel like an oven. Sharpe was awaiting him, wearing a black coat; his ruffled shirt made his bulky form appear larger than ever. Mrs Sharpe, sweeping in in turquoise blue, was of much the same size; she curtseyed deeply in response to Hornblowers bow when Sharpe presented him, and made him welcome to the house in a French whose soft tang rang pleasantly on Hornblowers ears.
A little refreshment, My Lord? asked Sharpe.
Not at present, thank you, sir, said Hornblower hastily.
We are expecting twenty-eight guests beside Your Lordship and Mr. Gerard, said Sharpe. Some of them Your Lordship already met during Your Lordships official calls today. In addition there are
Hornblower did his best to keep the list of names in his mind with mental labels attached. Gerard, who came in and found himself a secluded chair, listened intently.
And there will be Cambronne, of course, said Sharpe.
Indeed?
I could hardly give a dinner party of this magnitude without inviting the most distinguished foreign visitor, after Your Lordship, present in this city.
Of course not, agreed Hornblower.
Yet six years of peace had hardly stilled the prejudices established during twenty years of war, there was something a little unnatural about the prospect of meeting a French General on friendly terms, especially the late commander-in-chief of Bonapartes Imperial Guard, and the meeting might be a little strained because Bonaparte was under lock and key in St. Helena and complaining bitterly about it.
The French Consul-General will accompany him, said Sharpe. And there will be the Dutch Consul-General, the Swedish
The list seemed interminable; there was only just time to complete it before the first of the guests was announced. Substantial citizens and their substantial wives; the naval and military officers whom he had already met, and their ladies; the diplomatic officers; soon even that vast drawing-room was crowded, men bowing and women curtseying. Hornblower straightened up from, a bow to find Sharpe at his elbow again.
I have the honour of making two distinguished figures acquainted with each other, he said, in French.
Son Excellence Rear Admiral Milord Hornblower, Chevalier de lOrdre Militaire du Bain. Son Excellence le Lieutenant-General le Comte de Cambronne, Grand Cordon de la Legion dHonneur.
Hornblower could not help being impressed, even at this moment, at the neat way in which Sharpe had evaded the thorny question of whom to introduce to whom, a French General and count and an English Admiral and peer. Cambronne was an immensely tall bean-pole of a man. Across one lean cheek and the beaky nose ran a purple scarperhaps the wound he had received at Waterloo; perhaps a wound received at Austerlitz or Jena or any other of the battles in which the French Army had overthrown nations. He was wearing a blue uniform covered with gold lace, girt about with the watered red silk ribbon of the Legion of Honour, a vast plaque of gold on his left breast.
Enchanted to make your acquaintance, sir, said Hornblower in his best French.
No more enchanted than I am to make yours, milord, replied Cambronne. He had a cold, greeny-grey eye with a twinkle in it; a grey cats-whisker moustache adorned his upper lip.
The Baroness de Vautour, said Sharpe. The Baron de Vautour, His Most Christian Majestys Consul-General.
Hornblower bowed and said again that he was enchanted. His Most Christian Majesty was Louis XVIII of France, using the Papal title conferred on his house centuries earlier.
The Count is being mischievous, said Vautour. He indicated Cambronnes star. He is wearing the Grand Eagle, given him during the last régime. Officially the Grand Cordon has been substituted, as our host very properly said.
Vautour called attention to his own star, a more modest affair. Cambronnes displayed an immense eagle of gold, the badge of the now defunct French Empire.
I won this on the field of battle, said Cambronne.
Don Alphonso de Versage, said Sharpe. His Most Catholic Majestys Consul-General.
This was the representative of Spain, then. A word or two with him regarding this pending cession of Florida might be informative, but Hornblower had hardly time to exchange formal courtesies before another presentation was being made. It
was some time before Hornblower had a breathing space, and could look round the pretty scene in the candlelight, with the uniforms and the broadcloth coats, the bare arms and shoulders of the women in their bright gowns and flashing jewellery, and the two Sharpes moving unobtrusively through the throng marshalling their guests in order of precedence. The entrance of the Governor and his lady was the signal for the announcement of dinner.