 Call all hands, speak to quarters. One broadside into it, please, Captain Bush. Point is on target. Limbs top ready. Aye, aye, sir. C.S. Foresters, indomitable man of the sea. Horatio Hornblower. Lifting clear of the horizon and blazing into my face that finally will come in. Morning, sir. We've been back round about holding our course close hold. Uh-huh. Morning, Mr. Bush. It's a miracle we can hold a course at all. Look at that ringing splices everywhere and hardly a sail without shotholes in it. Yes, sir. She looks a tattered old vagabond. But our makeshift mismaster is still standing, sir. A little furrowed and grovely shot. The sills are black with powder. There's an 18-pounder shot half-buried in that bit of tough oak, sir, and went. Nevertheless, you've done wonders. Ah, I might have done more, sir. But the members are exhausted. I had to send them as many below as I could. To tell the truth, sir, there's more dead out, Mr. Bush. All missing. They were in the launch when the David Dads shot he didn't sunk it. All the same, sir. You won't go mad when they hear your victory. Six are ship of the line. Ah, victory, Mr. Bush. I shall remember to give you all the credit you deserve in my report. I shall go down and visit the wounded. You better get some rest. Lady Barbara, I'd forgotten our passenger. Is she still in there all up? As I know, sir. Ah, they do visit the sea. Well, my steward will have looked after her. If high-born ladies use their position to force themselves into fighting ships, they must be prepared to face the consequences. To tell the truth, I was a little uneasy at my neglect of Lady Barbara Wellesley. But I'd had much on my mind. Below decks in the all-up, the scene was like an inferno. It was hot and airless. And the four flickering oil lamps added their smell to the stench of bilge, powder fumes, and sick men. Here are seventy-five wounded men who crammed together, groaning and sobbing, gas-feeling and vomiting, under the care of the incompetent lorry whom I'd appointed surgeon when our own certain had died. Thank God you've come, sir. Well, I've come to make you assume your responsibilities, not to relieve you of them, Mr. Lorry. Now come round with me and make your report. Oh, then, this man. Good heavens, Lady Barbara, what are you doing here? Good morning, Captain. I am sponging the poor man's throat. But tending the wounded is a man's job. The filthy work of a hospital does not fit for women. No, don't do that. Go away from here. Go on deck. Please understand me. I am not attempting to be noble. But there is work to be done in the King's service. And if nobody else can do it, a Wellesley must. If one of my brothers can govern India and fight the Marathas, I can do my part. Look at this man. He has a great splinter of wood under his skin. It ought to be extracted at once. Yes, certainly ought. Mr. Lorry, are you ready to extract this splinter? Well, ma'am... Don't be a fool, man. If you will not do it, I will. I'll see that it's done immediately, Lady Barbara. But please, go on deck. I shall do nothing of the kind, Captain. I am going to help. But as you will, ma'am. Now, Lorry, where are your instruments? Come and stand by to hold Williams. Now, Williams, we are going to get that splinter out of you, or you'll die. But it's going to hurt you. The night which elapsed before we rounded Cape Marla was a grim period. Unfortunately, the weather held fair. Had we met Gales, I could hardly have kept my leaking battered ship afloat. Although some of the men became convalescent under Lady Barbara's care, gangrene, shock, and exhaustion was imposing upon me and my task was sliding hammock-wrapped bundles over-side into the blue Pacific. This lady's ship's conflicted, sir. Could you spare a moment to step below? Great, sir. First, Mr. Bush, I thought he was improving. So he was, sir, in spite of Lorry's surgery. But her lady's ship's worried about him now. I'll go and get her. Would you be spared? Is he conflicted? He is delirious. Do you think I'm his mother? There is your hand, mother. It's awful, darling. I'm here, darling. Don't be afraid. It's light beyond. Poor, poor boy. Lady Barbara, I've on deck for summer shining. It is not fair, Captain. It is not fair. He was only a lad. He was not ready. I had not been for you with ever to be in many more such scenes. Lady Barbara, I resented your presence on this ship if I failed that resentment in any way. I... I humbly apologize. There's nothing to forgive. Let us go on deck. You're in sight of land. Yes, ma'am. We're just entering the Gulf of Panama. The land on the Port Bar is the Pearl Islands. Is she a Spanish craft, Captain? Yes, Captain Manuel Diaz, commanding. It was this same lager that brought me the news that Spain was now our ally. And your letter requesting a passage on this ship. Oh, it seems a hundred years ago, instead of but a few weeks. And now here we are almost back in Panama, which I thought never to see again. I would prefer not to see it, ma'am, especially if the Yellow Fever still rages there. Yet, if I do not refit and provision the ship, we'll sink under my feet. She's setting a boat over there. Looks like the same officer we met before. Yes, I recognize him. Well, he should be pleased that we've accomplished our mission and destroyed the Natividad. Stand by. He's coming aboard. Good morning. Good morning, Captain. I trust your excellency is enjoying the best of health. Thank you, yes. I see from the damage and the wounded on your decks that your fine ship has been recently in action. I hope that your excellency has had good fortune in the encounter. We thank the Natividad if that's what you mean. You thank her? We did. She's completely destroyed? Yes. Oh, then, sir, I have a letter to give you. No, no, no. That is not the one. This letter, sir. Thank you. You are aware of the contents of this letter, sir? I am, sir. And I take it from your hesitation that had I not sunk the Natividad, you would have given me the other letter. May I ask the contents of that one? I have no other letter for you, sir. Indeed. And so, by this document, I am prohibited from dropping anchor or entering into any port of Spanish America, the Vice Royalty of Peru, the Vice Royalty of Mexico, or the Captain General Sea of New Granada. Can you explain this most unfriendly behavior on the part of the Vice Royalty? I would not presume to explain my master's action, sir. Whatever I think of this action, it's not compatible with the dignity of a British officer to ban the words with you about it. Indeed. I compliment your master. I will call it no port on the Spanish man. Please convey to his excellency my lively sense of gratitude at the courtesy with which I have been treated and my pleasure at this further proof of the good relations between the governments of which we have the good fortune to be subjects. And now, sir, I have much to attend to. You have my permission to return to your ship. To indulge in bitterness against the Spanish. At a pinch, I could make my stores last out until I reached Santa Lena or Gibraltar. But there was no hope of facing the storms of Cape Horn with my ship leaking and jury rigged. Still nine valums, Mr. Bush. This place seems very suitable. Aye, sir. Thanks for the job. Lucky we found this channel between the mountains. Look, sir, right ahead. It shows to have been a beach. It's golden sand, too. It'll be excellent for careening. Except for the heat. Ah, there'll be no escaping that here, sir. The mountains cut off the breeze and reflect the sun, too. Oh, it's like an oven, sir. I can't fail to respect the best of it. We're lucky to have found such a place. Now, Mr. Bush, time is important. We must work like Trojans to make ourselves secure so that the Spaniards discover our hiding place. Call back the cutter. We'll anchor here while you and I go ashore to explore. The boat is in a trot here, I imagine not. But let the escort keep a sharp look out, nevertheless. Ah, that's the last of the vegetation. Now the sharp scramble up these rocks and we shall have a view of the whole bay. Ah, as I thought, Mr. Bush, these headlands make a natural fort. There are 18 pounders up here and no ships shall dare to approach through the channel. 18? How distribute! Well, they weigh two ton of bees. Yes, rigging tackles and swaying them up here in this heat should keep the men amused until we're ready to lay the ship over and begin the serious work. See to it, Mr. Bush. The serious work? Aye, aye, sir. Night and day until we were all dropping with weirdness. When all repairs to the ship were done, she had to be loaded again. On the rigging, we rowed and set up. But when I stood once more on the deck with a staunch ship beneath me and a broadside which could fire, I was happy again and could stamp my fingers at every spanhead in the Pacific. In all these weeks of labor, I'd had no time to spare for Lady Barbara. But her smile as she crossed the deck to me showed that I was forgiven for my neglect. Give me your hand, Captain. I congratulate you on having achieved so much in so little time. Thank you very much. Captain is modestly comfortable again. You've made the ship like new. Thank you, Lady Barbara. The men have worked well. It's heaven to me to think that we're at sea again before night. You are a very fine sailor, sir. I doubt if there's another officer in the King's Service who could have done all that you have on this voyage. Glad you think so, ma'am. I've only done what you did. England is your debtor. I shall try to help see the ship's knowledge of that debt. Thank you, ma'am. Pardon me, they'll have that cast going through the bottom of the cutter in a moment. Use it on those tackles there. He was your most human for a while. If it's not more trouble, Mr. Bush, I'm finding it increasingly difficult to remain signal to that young man. Good day to you, Captain D'Arthes. Have you brought me some more innable letters? No, only to see you, sir. I congratulate you on the amazing difference in your ship since I was last aboard. How were you able to affect such repairs? I know you have not been into port. British Navy, sir, takes but small heed of such trifles as a refit. To what do I owe the honour of your visit? I wondered, sir, whether you would honour me by visiting my ship. I should be able to show you something of interest which would demonstrate our ability to continue without your assistance. What is it you wish to show me? I would prefer to surprise you, sir. I assure you, I intend not retchery. I thought so my lager is within the range and your guns could sink it with a single broadside. If you are not back safe here within the hour, your offices may open fire. Don't go, sir. I shall visit the lager, Mr. Bush. Send the cutter after me to bring me back. But today, about the surprise awaiting me, he led the way to the foredeck. There, in the blinding, scorching sun, chained by the waist to a ring bolt with irons on his wrists and ankles, half naked and wholly filthy. You have already had the pleasure of meeting his excellency Don Julián, Mariede Jesús de Alvarado y Montezuma, who calls himself... Half mad fanatic whose rebellion against the Spanish I had been sent to assist and against whom I'd been ordered to turn when the Spanish had become our allies. Bloodthirsty, despot there he was. It troubled me to see him, Lut. You're not this Captain Hornblower that I wear these chairs. It is a women of mine. Do you not think they set off my theater? Yes, they do. We, I shall mount the throne of the world. They speak of the gallows awaiting us on the bastion of the citadel. That will be the framework of my throne. Golden it will be, with diamond stars and the turquoise boots. Only El Suprema is left to govern from his golden throne. His throne. No, but he will sometimes struggle and shout for twenty-four hours without stopping. Amusing. Captain Diaz, this stupid shame to you has stained your nation. You're also making his peace with God. Mad or seen, sir, rebels must have. Your excellency must know that as well as I do. We are very glad you have returned, Captain. I hope the promised surprise was a pleasant one. Oh, trifle, ma'am. These simple things you know are muses, spaniards. No pain. Pardon me, ma'am. I must go below. Based on the novels by C. S. Forrester. Music composed and conducted by Sidney Torch. C. Allen Towers.