 Call all hands. Beat the quarters. Point us on target. Vince stops ready. I am the indomitable man of the sea, Horatio Hornblower. Even now I feel again that I dare not let any man see. It was a nightmare pause and a nightmare battle. Two partially disabled ships drifting rapidly apart, and each with no purpose than to patch its wounds and return to destroy the other. I can see that the tidbit had again, now the scores cleared, sir. How does she bear? About two points of the starboard beam, sir. Ah, there. So too. Looks a bit lopsided without her formers. Hmm. Seems to have made no attempt as yet to break a new one. Well, as soon as we can carry it and sail off, so that we can beat the wind over the inhabitant of our mercy, we must try and do it before nightfall, Mr. Motion. Or we may lose it all together in the dark. And, uh, now what's this? It's the funeral party, sir. Oh. They've already blown out there. How many? Fourteens. Very well. Mr. Bush, have all hands stopped work, but remain where they are. I intend no disrespect to the dead, but this sentiment, they must be swift, or the living may be endangered. Aye, aye, sir. Their bodies to the deep. The sail is farther down to the bottom and seems to be hooded. I've been able to release over twenty men from the punch. Good. Everything ready now for hoisting the mast? All ready, sir. Right. Now, Mr. Bush, it is important that nobody should haul or carry out any movement except my orders. I shall try to use the pitching of the ship to help in the raising of the mast. And if any man acts without my orders, I'll have him plunked. Aye, aye, sir. Hands to the wingless. Mr. Jellard, attend to those swings. Aye, aye, sir. All right. Hands to the wingless, Mr. Jellard. Aye, sir. Put the mast there. The ship's away from that stump. It'll sweep the deck like a brawl, sir. You trust the old man. He knows what he's doing, old man. Oh, he does. Time to go. Aye, he's off. Oh, nice start, Daddy. Aye, better not make no mistakes. I've never seen him make one. Oh, Daddy looked hard at that. There, water. There was a struggle with the mast over, and it stood vertical at last while the men fished it firmly to the stump of the old mism. I was sick with weirdness. I'd been on my quarter deck for over eight hours with neither rest nor food. Through the stress and labor of the battle. Now I'm just beginning to find it difficult to concentrate upon anything. So that Bush had spoken twice before I could force myself to listen. I said, sir, that it's a magnificent thing to work. If you allow me to say so, sir. Shall I set up the top mast and yards now, sir? It'll be useless to attempt to carry any canvas in this window, seems to me. And then the tidbitad is barely in sight now. Just a smouch on the horizon, sir. There's not much chance of a new interaction till the wind takes off of it. Yes, I cannot imagine the admiral accepting that statement in the report. But it's true enough, sir. That's not about it. The weather's too rough to carry on the fight. Nevertheless, the report would be received with pitting smiles, Mr. Bush. The excuse is too old, like the uncharted rock which always causes a wreck. The admiral takes 10,000 miles away and they can't judge the strength of his storm from there. If even though I should be accused of cowardice, there's nothing I can do until the weather moderates. No, sir, there's not. In that case, sir, why not take a rest? You look mortally tired, sir. Indeed you do. But we said to have a burst screwed off you in the wardrobe. Little sticks, Mr. Bush, if you who need a rest dismiss the starboard watch and go below and turn in. While the enemy is inside, I shall stay on deck. I gave you an order, Mr. Bush. Good fellow, Bush, but a fool. A sentimental fool. He'd treat me like an old woman, if I'd let him. Hmm. There's a wonder how Lady Barbara is getting on that. Confounded, he has attitude of a steward. Can't anybody leave me alone? Well, Paul, what do you want? Well, I've been to attend to the lady, sir. I've screened off a bit of the all-op for her, sir. The all-op? But the wounded are in there. Well, they're mostly quiet now, sir. Well, I couldn't leave with my cables here. I've sung the amok for her. She nicked into it like a bird, sir. Took a bit of grub, too, and a glass of wine, she did. Very good, Paul. Well, now it stands. I see like this, and a battle-like look before we've had it. Well, it's a bit rough on an eye-board, Lady. Just combine yourself to facts and keep your opinions to yourself, Paul Wheel. The high-born lady joined this ship of her own free will, knowing that she was about to go into action. Aye, sir. No, I don't use that. Here's some dry clothes and a chest in the storeroom. Well, I'm free of the last broadside dump for everything you can. I don't want any dry clothes. I'll get them. Well, if it takes cold, sir, you won't be fit when they catch it up with an activity. Will it change up here, sir, or come below? No, no, no. Look, if I just slash this here amok chair to the right, sir, you could sit there when you've changed and have this biscuit in the rum, couldn't you, sir? And this here don't cloak or keep some of the spray off here. You won't have to leave the deck. Paul Wheel, are you presuming to give me orders? Me? I hope so knows my place, sir. You can turn in now. Captain's in his chair and sleeping like a daddy, sir. I must have dosed off. What time is it, I wonder? Impossible as of the midnight. As black as the Earl of Hell's writing boots. Feels to me as though the weather's improving. Let's have a look at the medical. Ah, Mr Bush, wind's shifting southerly and moderated, sir. Ah, light even. Curse you're sickin'. A divotette might be twenty miles away or only two hundred yards. Sir Dutch is close. She was going away to Leward rapidly when we left, sir. You've got to carry out all the repairs you need in this weather. What do you think she'll do, sir? That fellow Crespo command, sir, is no fool. I believe he'll try to avoid us until he can get into the gulf with Fonseca and re-fit. He'd like us to follow him into the gulf to ensure batteries as well. But he can't make much sale in his cripple condition, sir. But even if he could, the wind is wrong to get into the gulf. I had observed that fact, Mr Bush. I believe he'll reach far out to sea and cross southwards as far as he can. I shall return to my chair until daylight and attempt to work out what it's like there to be his position at dawn. Aye, aye, sir. Morning, sir. She's going down fast, sir. The wind's taken off. Some will be up in ten minutes. Yes, who makes sale, little piece, Mr Bush? Here is the course you were to sail. But as I gave the course, I knew that it would share guesswork. Every yard I sailed might be away from Mother Tabor Dad while she hurried to safety. My heart was heavy with misgiving. For I knew that if I had failed, there would be many who would have tripled that failure to incompetence or cowardice. With every appearance of unconcern, I have determined not to allow anyone to guess at the doubts and fears which tormented me. When the light should be sufficient for the masked head look out to scam the horizon, I might be justified or ruined. Yet even my resolution to remain calm must have wavered when my gloomy thoughts would pierce by a wild cry from a lost. We found her, sir. We found her. You are right against her. Look, sir. You can see her from here with the glass. Did I hate her? Ah, she's coming round, sir. She's running away. Yes, Crespo wishes to postpone action. He prefers discretion to eroics and quite rightly, Mr. Bush. However, set every stitch we can carry, send the hands to breakfast. If we engage, there's no telling when they'll eat again. If ever. Aye, aye, sir. Hands to breakfast. We're gaining, sir. She is not against me this time. We blow her right out of the water. Never underestimate your opponent, Mr. Bush. She has a heavy metal. We have a ship which is leaking like a silt. Has a makeshift rig and is 64 men short. And our firing force is far inferior to her. You think the wind's going to hose her? It seems to me as if the sun's swallowing it. Oh, I should get it mighty hot, too. It'll be just our luck to lose the wind now. I can't trim her any more. Hi! You're at the wheel. I heard a small blaster. I can't, sir, biggie. You're pardoned. Ringing off wind. She's right. The wind's gone, sir. I don't feel like sky. It's like brass. But in a dead calm and well out of range. We will tow with the boats. Have the launch and cutter hoisted out. Boats away! Cutters crawl! Launches crawl! But it must be done. You've got to pull. Pull till your muscles crack and your hands burst. Now get your clothes off and pull naked. I'll have you relieved in an hour. We're going to run the gauntlet of those for the next hour. He yards up our starboard quarter. Mr Gerard, ask Mr Marsh to see what he can do with a long mine on our folkslef. I know it's not much use, but we'll cheer the men to feel that we're reclying. He's ready and waiting. Very good, Mr Marsh. Show them some shooting. We have 25 guns trained on us instead of two. She's positioning for a broadside. We shall have some pebbles about our ears and our long lads. Let's show them that Englishmen don't care. What distance would you use those years now? Three parts to a mile, I should say, sir. So I think I fear our colonnades will not be effective at that distance. Relieve the boat's crews and see if fresh men can pull us near that. It was intolerable, they're hot. The smell of pitch from the deck scenes, the bitter tang of powder, and the smell of the blood from the wounded, combined with my fatigue and anxiety to make me feel deathly sick. I feared to disgrace myself by being sick in front of the men. They, too, no longer joked at the guns. They were beginning to sulk under punishment. That was a bad sign. Sullivan! Sir, yes, Sullivan! You're your fiddle? Aye, sir, I have that. All right, then we'll have a hornpipe. Men's skin? Oh, Maccaboy. A hornpipe from each of you, and a guinea for the man who does his best. This will be a tale told and retold in years to come. How Captain Hornblower had his hip-toe detection with hornpipes being darts on her main deck? Side-chain pumps? What sort of pieces? Well, my boy. Well, he's digging another one, sir, but it'll be an hour before it works. He told me to tell you the water's gaining a little, sir. Very well. Men will not just smash at the pump. Horrible, sir. Let's see what I'm going to do. No, no, boy. Come back to Mr. Howell and tell him Captain is sure that he will do his best. Aye, sir. That's too much. First of all, what is it? I think I can feel her very likely. Yes, I believe there is. Look at that. Look, sir, in the water, but she's still fighting my heaven. Yes, sir.