The Happy Return

“Of course,” said el Supremo, “he would not venture to push himself forward beyond that point. The blood of the family of Guelph naturally ca

“Hah’m,” said Hornblower. He found that noncommittal noise as useful in conversation with el Supremo as with Lieutenant Bush.

El Supremo’s brows approached each other a trifle.

“I suppose you are aware,” he said a little sternly, “of the history of the family of Alvarado? You know who was the first of that name to reach this country?”

“He was Cortez’ lieutenant—” began Hornblower.

“Lieutenant? Nothing of the sort. I am surprised that you should believe such lies. He was the leader of the Conquistadores; it is only by the falsification of history that Cortez is represented as in command. Alvarado conquered Mexico, and from Mexico he descended upon this coast and conquered it all, as far as the Isthmus. He married the daughter of Moctezuma the last of the Emperors; and as a direct descendant from that union I have chosen to select from my family names those of Alvarado and Moctezuma. But in Europe; long before the head of the house came to the Americas, the name of Alvarado can be traced back, beyond the Hapsburgs and the Visigoths, beyond the Romans and the empire of Alexander, to the ultimate sources of time. It is only natural, therefore, that in this present generation the family should have attained to the divine state in my person. I find it satisfactory that you agree with me, Captain—Captain—”

“Hornblower.”

“I thank you. And now I think we had better, Captain Hornblower, discuss the plans for the extension of my Empire.”

“As you please,” said Hornblower. He felt he must at least agree with this madman until the Lydia was revictualled, although his already faint hope of heading a successful insurrection in this country was fast becoming fainter.

“The Bourbon who calls himself King of Spain,” said el Supremo, “maintains in this country an official who calls himself Captain General of Nicaragua. I sent to this gentleman some time ago a message ordering him to a

“My ship must be revictualled first,” said Hornblower, sturdily.

“I have given the orders for that,” replied el Supremo with a trace of impatience.

“And further,” continued Hornblower, “it will be my duty first to ascertain the whereabouts of a Spanish ship of war, the Natividad, which I believe to be on this station. Before I can engage in any operations on land I must see that she can do no harm to my ship. I must either capture her or know for certain that she is too distant to interfere.”

“Then you had better capture her, captain. I expect, from the information I have received, she will be sailing into the bay here at any moment.”

“Then I must go back to my ship immediately,” said Hornblower, all agitation. The possibility that his frigate might be attacked in his absence by a fiftygun ship threw him into a seething panic. What would the Lords of the Admiralty say if the Lydia were lost while her captain was on shore?

“There is food being brought in. Behold,” said el Supremo.

The door at the end of the hall was flung open as he spoke. A crowd of attendants began to walk slowly in, carrying a large table covered with silver dishes, and bearing four large silver candelabra each supporting five lighted candles.

“Your pardon, but I ca

“As you will,” said el Supremo indifferently. “Alfonso!”

The negroid majordomo came forward, bowing.

“See that Captain Hornblower goes back to his ship.”

El Supremo had no sooner spoken the words than he relapsed into an attitude of contemplation. The bustle attendant upon the bringing in of the banquet he allowed to pass unheeded. He did not bestow another glance on Hornblower, who stood before him, regretting already his precipitation in deciding to rejoin his ship, anxious to cause no offense by a breach of good ma

“This way, señor,” said Alfonso, at his elbow, while el Supremo still gazed blankly over his head. Hornblower yielded, and followed the majordomo out to the patio.

Two men and three horses awaited him there, in the half light. Without a word, bewildered by this sudden turn of events, Hornblower set his foot in the linked hands of a half naked slave who knelt at his horse’s side and swung himself up into the saddle. The escort clattered before him out through the gates, and he followed them; night was falling fast.

At the corner of the path the wide bay opened before them. A young moon was fast fading down the sky. A shadowy shape in the centre of the silver water showed where the Lydia swung to her anchor—she, at least, was something solid and matteroffact in this mad world. Eastward a mountain top suddenly glowed red, illuminating the clouds above it, and then died away into darkness. They rode at a sharp trot down the steep path, past the moaning men tied to the stakes, past the stinking corpses, and into the little town. Here there was neither light nor movement; Hornblower had to leave his horse to the task of following the escort round the corners. The sound of the horses’ hoofs ceased as they reached the soft sand of the beach; and simultaneously he heard the pitiful moaning of the first man he had seen tied to a stake and saw the faint phosphorescence of the edge of the sea.

He felt his way in the darkness into the waiting boat, and sat on a thwart while to the accompaniment of an explosion of orders the unseen crew pushed off. There was not a breath of wind—the sea breeze had died with the sunset and the land breeze had not yet sprung up. The unseen crew tugged at six oars, and the water sprang into view, the foam faintly visible as each stroke waked the phosphorescence. Slowly they made their way out into the bay to the rhythmical sound of the oars. Far out across the water he could see the faint loom of the Lydia, and a minute later he heard the welcome sound of Bush’s voice as he hailed.

“Boat ahoy!”

Hornblower made a speaking trumpet of his hands and hailed back “Lydia!”

The captain of a King’s ship calls himself by the name of that ship when he is on board a small boat.

Hornblower could hear all the expected noises now, could see all the expected sights; the bustle and clatter as boatswain’s mate and sideboys ran to the gangway, the measured tramp of the marines, the flickering of lanterns. The boat ran alongside and he sprang to the ladder. It was good to feel solid oak under his feet again. The pipes of the boatswain’s mates twittered in chorus; the marines brought their muskets to the present, and Bush was at the gangway to receive him, with all the pomp and ceremony due to a Captain arriving on board.

Hornblower saw, by the lantern light, the relief in Bush’s honest face. He glanced round the decks; one watch, wrapped in blankets, was lying on the bare boards of the deck, while the other squatted by the guns ready for action. Bush had very properly maintained all precautions while thus at anchor in a presumably hostile port.