csf.mrmidshipmanhornblower-第3章

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voy　was　due　to　arrive　soon；　most　of　the　hands　would　be　pressed　as　soon　as　the　convoy　reached　the　Channel；　and　the　remainder；　left　to　work　the　ships　to　an　anchorage；　would　sneak　ashore；　using　every　device　to　conceal　themselves　and　find　a　safe　hiding…place。　It　was　the　business　of　the　landing　parties　to　cut　off　this　retreat；　to　lay　a　cordon　along　the　waterfront　which　would　sweep　them　all　up。　But　the　convoy　was　not　yet　signalled；　and　all　arrangements　were　pleted。
　'All　is　well　with　the　world；'　said　Simpson。
　It　was　an　unusual　speech　for　him；　but　he　was　in　unusual　circumstances。　He　was　sitting　in　the　back　room　of　the　Lamb　Inn；　fortable　in　one　armchair　with　his　legs　on　another；　in　front　of　a　roaring　fire　and　with　a　pot　of　beer　with　gin　in　it　at　his　elbow。
　'Here's　to　the　West　India　convoy；'　said　Simpson；　taking　a　pull　at　his　beer。　'Long　may　it　be　delayed。'
　Simpson　was　actually　genial；　activity　and　beer　and　a　warm　fire　thawing　him　into　a　good　humour；　it　was　not　time　yet　for　the　liquor　to　make　him　quarrelsome；　Hornblower　sat　on　the　other　side　of　the　fire　and　sipped　beer　without　gin　in　it　and　studied　him；　marvelling　that　for　the　first　time　since　he　had　boarded　the　Justinian　his　unhappiness　should　have　ceased　to　be　active　but　should　have　subsided　into　a　dull　misery　like　the　dying　away　of　the　pain　of　a　throbbing　tooth。
　'Give　us　a　toast；　boy；'　said　Simpson。
　'Confusion　to　Robespierre；'　said　Hornblower　lamely。
　The　door　opened　and　two　more　officers　came　in；　one　a　midshipman　while　the　other　wore　the　single　epaulette　of　a　lieutenant…it　was　Chalk　of　the　Goliath；　the　officer　in　general　charge　of　the　press　gangs　sent　ashore。　Even　Simpson　made　room　for　his　superior　rank　before　the　fire。
　'The　convoy　is　still　not　signalled；'　announced　Chalk。　And　then　he　eyed　Hornblower　keenly。　'I　don't　think　I　have　the　pleasure　of　your　acquaintance。'
　'Mr　Hornblower　…　Lieutenant　Chalk；'　introduced　Simpson。　'Mr　Hornblower　is　distinguished　as　the　midshipman　who　was　seasick　in　Spithead。'
　Hornblower　tried　not　to　writhe　as　Simpson　tied　that　label　on　him。　He　imagined　that　Chalk　was　merely　being　polite　when　he　changed　the　subject。
　'Hey；　potman！　Will　you　gentlemen　join　me　in　a　glass？　We　have　a　long　wait　before　us；　I　fear。　Your　men　are　all　properly　posted；　Mr　Simpson　？'
　'Yes；　sir。'
　Chalk　was　an　active　man。　He　paced　about　the　room；　stared　out　of　the　window　at　the　rain；　presented　his　midshipman…Caldwell…to　the　other　two　when　the　drinks　arrived；　and　obviously　fretted　at　his　enforced　inactivity。
　'A　game　of　cards　to　pass　the　time？'　he　suggested。　'Excellent！　Hey；　potman！　Cards　and　a　table　and　another　light。'
　The　table　was　set　before　the　fire；　the　chairs　arranged；　the　cards　brought　in。
　'What　game　shall　it　be？'　asked　Chalk；　looking　round。
　He　was　a　lieutenant　among　three　midshipmen；　and　any　suggestion　of　his　was　likely　to　carry　a　good　deal　of　weight；　the　other　three　naturally　waited　to　hear　what　he　had　to　say。
　'Vingt…et…un？　That　is　a　game　for　the　half…witted。　Loo？　That　is　a　game　for　the　wealthier　half…witted。　But　whist；　now？　That　would　give　us　all　scope　for　the　exercise　of　our　poor　talents。　Caldwell；　there；　is　acquainted　with　the　rudiments　of　the　game；　I　know。　Mr　Simpson？'
　A　man　like　Simpson；　with　a　blind　mathematical　spot；　was　not　likely　to　be　a　good　whist　player；　but　he　was　not　likely　to　know　he　was　a　bad　one。
　'As　you　wish；　sir；'　said　Simpson。　He　enjoyed　gambling；　and　one　game　was　as　good　as　another　for　that　purpose　to　his　mind。
　'Mr　Hornblower？'
　'With　pleasure；　sir。'
　That　was　more　nearly　true　than　most　conventional　replies。　Hornblower　had　learned　his　whist　in　a　good　school；　ever　since　the　death　of　his　mother　he　had　made　a　fourth　with　his　father　and　the　parson　and　the　parson's　wife。　The　game　was　already　something　of　a　passion　with　him。　He　revelled　in　the　nice　calculation　of　chances；　in　the　varying　demands　it　made　upon　his　boldness　or　caution。　There　was　even　enough　warmth　in　his　acceptance　to　attract　a　second　glance　from　Chalk；　who…a　good　card　player　himself…at　once　detected　a　fellow　spirit。
　'Excellent！'　he　said　again。　'Then　we　may　as　well　cut　at　once　for　places　and　partners。　What　shall　be　the　stakes；　gentlemen？　A　shilling　a　trick　and　a　guinea　on　the　rub；　or　is　that　too　great？　No？　Then　we　are　agreed。'
　For　some　time　the　game　proceeded　quietly。　Hornblower　cut　first　Simpson　and　then　Caldwell　as　his　partner。　Only　a　couple　of　hands　were　necessary　to　show　up　Simpson　as　a　hopeless　whist　player；　the　kind　who　would　always　lead　an　ace　when　he　had　one；　or　a　singleton　when　he　had　four　trumps；　but　he　and　Hornblower　won　the　first　rubber　thanks　to　overwhelming　card　strength。　But　Simpson　lost　the　next　in　partnership　with　Chalk；　cut　Chalk　again　as　partner；　and　lost　again。　He　gloated　over　good　hands　and　sighed　over　poor　ones；　clearly　he　was　one　of　those　unenlightened　people　who　looked　upon　whist　as　a　social　function；　or　as　a　mere　crude　means；　like　throwing　dice；　of　arbitrarily　transferring　money。　He　never　thought　of　the　game　either　as　a　sacred　rite　or　as　an　intellectual　exercise。　Moreover；　as　his　losses　grew；　and　as　the　potman　came　and　went　with　liquor；　he　grew　restless；　and　his　face　was　flushed　with　more　than　the　heat　of　the　fire。　He　was　both　a　bad　loser　and　a　bad　drinker；　and　even　Chalk's　punctilious　good　manners　were　sufficiently　strained　so　that　he　displayed　a　hint　of　relief　when　the　next　cut　gave　him　Hornblower　as　a　partner。　They　won　the　rubber　easily；　and　another　guinea　and　several　shillings　were　transferred　to　Hornblower's　lean　purse；　he　was　now　the　only　winner；　and　Simpson　was　the　heaviest　loser。　Hornblower　was　lost　in　the　pleasure　of　playing　the　game　again；　the　only　attention　he　paid　to　Simpson's　writhings　and　muttered　objurgations　was　to　regard　them　as　a　distracting　nuisance；　he　even　forgot　to　think　of　them　as　danger　signals。　Momentarily　he　was　oblivious　to　the　fact　that　he　might　pay　for　his　present　success　by　future　torment。
　Once　more　they　cut；　and　he　found　himself　Chalk's　partner　again。　Two　good　hands　gave　them　the　first　game。　Then　twice；　to　Simpson's　unconcealed　triumph；　Simpson　and　Caldwell　made　a　small　score；　approaching　game；　and　in　the　next　hand　an　overbold　finesse　by　Hornblower　left　him　and　Chalk　with　the　odd　trick　when　their　score　should　have　been　two　tricks　greater…Simpson　laid　his　knave　on　Hornblower's　ten　with　a　grin　of　delight　which　turned　to　dismay　when　he　found　that　he　and　Caldwell　had　still　only　made　six　tricks；　he　counted　them　a　second　time　with　annoyance。　Hornblower　dealt　and　turned　the　trump；　and　Simpson　led…an　ace　as　usual；　assuring　Hornblower　of　his　re…entry。　He　had　a　string　of　trumps　and　a　good　suit　of　clubs　which　a　single　lead　might　establish。　Simpson　glanced　muttering　at　his　hand；　it　was　extraordinary　that　he　still　had　not　realized　the　simple　truth　that　the　lead　of　an　ace　involved　leading　a　second　time　with　the　problem　no　clearer。　He　made　up　his　mind　at　last　and　led　again；　Hornblower's　king　took　the　trick　and　he　instantly　led　his　knave　of　trumps。　To　his　delight　it　took　the　trick；　he　led　again　and　Chalk's　queen　gave　them　another　trick。　Chalk　laid　down　the　ace　of　trumps　and　Simpson　with　a　curse　played　the　king。　Chalk　led　clubs　of　which　Hornblower　had　five　to　the　king　queen…it　was　significant　that　Chalk　should　lead　them；　as　it　could　not　be　a　singleton　lead　when　Hornblower　held　the　remaining　trumps。　Hornblower's　queen　took　the　trick；　Caldwell　must　hold　the　ace；　unless　Chalk　did。　Hornblower　led　a　small　one；　everyone　followed　suit；　Chalk　playing　the　knave；　and　Caldwell　played　the　ace。　Eight　clubs　had　been　played；　and　Hornblower　had　three　more　headed　by　the　king　and　ten…three　certain　tricks；　with　the　last　trumps　as　re…entries。　Caldwell　played　the　queen　of　diamonds；　Hornblower　played　his　singleton；　and　Chalk　produced　the　ace。
　'The　rest　are　mine；'　said　Hornblower；　laying　down　his　cards。
　'What　do　you　mean？'　said　Simpson；　with　the　king　of　diamonds　in　his　hand。
　'Five　tricks；'　said　Chalk　briskly。　'Game　and　rubber。'
　'But　don't　I　take　another？'　persisted　Simpson。
　'I　trump　a　lead　of　diamonds　or　hearts　and　make　three　more　clubs；'　explained　Hornblower。　To　him　the　situation　was　as　simple　as　two　and　two；　a　most　ordinary　finish　to　a　hand；　it　was　hard　for　him　to　realize　that　foggy…minded　players　like　Simpson　could　find　difficulty　in　keeping　tally　of　fifty…two　cards。　Simpson　flung　down　his　hand。
　'You　know　too　much　about　the　game；'　he　said。　'You　know　the　backs　of　the　cards　as　well　as　the　fronts。'
　Hornblower　gulped。　He　recognized　that　this　could　be　a　decisive　moment　if　he　chose。　A　second　before　he　had　merely　been　playing　cards；　and　enjoying　himself。　Now　he　was　faced　with　an　issue　of　life　or　death。　A　torrent　of　thought　streamed　through　his　mind。　Despite　the　fort　of　his　present　surroundings　he　remembered　acutely　the　hideous　misery　of　the　life　in　the　Justinian　to　which　he　must　return。　This　was　an　opportunity　to　end　that　misery　one　way　or　the　other。　He　remembered　how　he　had　contemplated　killing　himself；　and　into　the　back　of　hid　mind　stole　the　germ　of　the　plan　upon　which　he　was　going　to　act。　His　decision　crystallized。
　'That　is　an　insulting　remark；　Mr　Simpson；'　he　said。　He　looked　round　and　met　the　eyes　of　Chalk　and　Caldwell；　who　were　suddenly　grave；　Simpson　was　still　merely　stupid。　'For　that　I　shall　have　to　ask　satisfaction。'
　'Satisfaction？'　said　Chalk　hastily。　'e；　e。　Mr　Simpson　had　a　momentary　loss　of　temper。　I　am　sure　he　will　explain。'
　'I　have　been　accused　of　cheating　at　cards；'　said　Hornblower。　'That　is　a　hard　thing　to　explain　away。'
　He　was　trying　to　behave　like　a　grown　man；　more　than　that；　he　was　trying　to　act　like　a　man　consumed　with　indignation；　while　actually　there　was　no　indignation　within　him　over　the　point　in　dispute；　for　he　understood　too　well　the　muddled　state　of　mind　which　had　led　Simpson　to　say　what　he　did。　But　the　opportunity　had　presented　itself；　he　had　determined　to　avail　himself　of　it；　and　now　what　he　had　to　do　was　to　play　the　part　convincingly　of　the　man　who　has　received　a　mortal　insult。
　'The　wine　was　in　and　the　wit　was　out；'　said　Chalk；　still　determined　on　keeping　the　peace。　'Mr　Simpson　was　speaking　in　jest；　I　am　sure。　Let's　call　for　another　bottle　and　drink　it　in　friendship。'
　'With　pleasure；'　said　Hornblower；　fumbling　for　the　words　which　would　set　the　dispute　beyond　reconciliation。　'If　Mr　Simpson　will　beg　my　pardon　at　once　before　you　two　gentlemen；　and　admit　that　he　spoke　without　justification　and　in　a　manner　no　gentleman　would　employ。'
　He　turned　and　met　Simpson's　eye　with　defiance　as　he　spoke；　metaphorically　waving　a　red　rag　before　the　bull；　who　charged　with　gratifying　fury。
　'Apologize　to　you；　you　little　whippersnapper！'　exploded　Simpson；　alcohol　and　outraged　dignity　speaking　simultaneously。　'Never　this　side　of　Hell。'
　'You　hear　that；　gentlemen？'　said　Hornblower。　'I　have　been　insulted　and　Mr　Simpson　refuses　to　apologize　while　insulting　me　further。　There　is　only　one　way　now　in　which　satisfaction　can　be　given。'
　
　For　the　next　two　days；　until　the　West　India　convoy　came　in；　Hornblower　and　Simpson；　under　Chalk's　orders；　lived　the　curious　life　of　two　duellists　forced　into　each　other's　society　before　the　affair　of　honour。　Hornblower　was　careful…as　he　would　have　been　in　any　case…to　obey　every　order　given　him；　and　Simpson　gave　them　with　a　certain　amount　of　self…consciousness　and　aw