Your baggage is all on board, maam, he said.
They had hove the stuff up with a whip from the main yardarm, and now it littered the gangwayleather cases, ironbound wooden boxes, dome-topped trunks.
Thank you, sir. Lady Barbara brought out a flat leather purse from her pocket, and took from it
a gold coin. Would you be so kind as to give this to the boats crew?
Lord love you, maam, you dont need to give those Dago niggers gold. Silvers all they deserve.
Give them this, then, and thank you for your kindness.
Gray hurried off, and Hornblower heard him bargaining in English with a boats crew who knew no tongue but Spanish. The threat of having a cold shot hove down into the boat compelled it at length to shove off still spattering expostulation. A new little wave of irritation rose in Hornblowers mind. He disliked seeing his warrant officers running to do a womans bidding, and his responsibilities were heavy, and he had been standing in a hot sun for half an hour.
There will be no room in your cabin for a tenth of that baggage, maam, he snapped.
Lady Barbara nodded gravely.
I have dwelt in a cabin before this, sir. That sea chest there holds everything I shall need on board. The rest can be put where you willuntil we reach England.
Hornblower almost stamped on the deck with rage. He was unused to a woman who could display practical common-sense like this. It was infuriating that he could find no way of discomposing herand then he saw her smiling, guessed that she was smiling at the evident struggle on his face, and blushed hotly again. He turned on his heel and led the way below without a word.
Lady Barbara looked round the captains cabin with a whimsical smile, but she made no comment, not even when she surveyed the grim discomfort of the after-cabin.
A frigate has few of the luxuries of an Indiaman you see, maam, said Hornblower, bitterly. He was bitter because his poverty at the time when he commissioned the Lydia had allowed him to purchase none of the minor comforts which many frigate-captains could afford.
I was just thinking when you spoke, said Lady Barbara, gently, that it was scandalous that a Kings officer should be treated worse than a fat John Company man. But I have only one thing to ask for which I do not see.
And that is, maam?
A key for the lock on the cabin door.
I will have the armourer make you a key, maam. But there will be a sentry at this door night and day.
The implications which Hornblower read into this request of Lady Barbaras angered him again. She was slandering both him and his ship.
Quis custodiet ipsos custodes? said Lady Barbara. It is not on my account, Captain, that I need a key. It is Hebe here whom I have to lock in unless she is directly under eye. She can no more keep from the men than a moth from a candle.
The little negress grinned widely at this last speech, showing no resentment and a good deal of pride. She rolled her eyes at Polwheal, who was standing silently by.
Where will she sleep, then? asked Hornblower, disconcerted once more.
On the floor of my cabin. And mark my words, Hebe, the first time I find you not there during the night Ill lace you so that you will have to sleep on your face.
Hebe still grinned, although it was evident that she knew her mistress would carry out her threat. What mollified Hornblower was Lady Barbaras little slip in speaking of the floor of her cabin instead of the deck. It showed that she was only a feeble woman after all.
Very good, he said. Polwheal, take my things into Mr. Bushs cabin. Give Mr. Bush my apologies and tell him he will have to berth in the wardroom. See that Lady Barbara has all that she wants, and ask Mr. Gray with my compliments to attend to putting the baggage in my storeroom. You will forgive me, Lady Barbara, but I am already late in paying my call upon the Viceroy.
Chapter X
LydiaAs always, he looked sharply round the deck as soon as his feet were on it. Lady Barbara was sitting in a hammock chair on the quarterdecksomeone must have had that chair made for her during the day; and someone had rigged for her a scrap of awning in the mizzen rigging so that she sat in the shade with Hebe crouching at her feet. She looked cool and comfortable, and smiled readily at him as he approached, but he looked away from her. He would not speak to her until his head was clearer.
Call all hands to weigh anchor and make sail, he said to Bush.
We leave at once.
He went below, checked himself with a gesture of annoyance at finding that habit had led him to the wrong cabin, and as he turned on his heel he hit his head a shattering crash on a deck beam. His new cabin, from which Bush had been evicted, was even smaller than the old one. Polwheal was waiting to help him change his clothes, and the sight of him reminded Hornblower of fresh troubles. He had been wearing his best gold laced coat and white breeches when Lady Barbara came on board, but he could not afford to continue to wear them lest they should grow too shabby for use on ceremonial occasions. He would have to appear before this woman in future in his old patched coats and cheap duck trousers. She would sneer at his shabbiness and poverty.