“He had no business to accept it, in any case,” snapped the General, but with that fateful kindliness still apparent. “You wanted to see the battle, I suppose?”

“Yes, General.”

“A fine piece of work your companions have done.” The General shook his head sadly. “It will not make the government in Paris feel any better disposed towards you, I fear, Captain.”

Hornblower shrugged his shoulders; he had already caught the infection of that gesture during his few days’ sojourn among Frenchmen. He noted, with a lack of personal interest which seemed odd to him even then, that this was the first time that the Governor had hinted openly at danger threatening him from Paris.

“I have done nothing to make me afraid,” he said.

“No, no, of course not,” said the Governor hastily and out of countenance, like a parent denying to a child that a prospective dose of medicine would be unpleasant.

He looked round for some way of changing the subject, and fortunate chance brought one. From far below in the bowels of the fortress came a muffled sound of cheering—English cheers, not Italian screeches.

“That must be those men of yours, Captain,” said the General, smiling again. “I fancy the new prisoner must have told them by now the story of last night’s affair.”

“The new prisoner?” demanded Hornblower.

“Yes, indeed. A man who fell overboard from the admiral’s ship—the Pluto, is it not?—and had to swim ashore. Ah, I suspected you would be interested, Captain. Yes, off you go and talk to him. Here, Dupont, take charge of the captain and escort him to the prison.”

Hornblower could hardly spare the time in which to thank his captor, so eager was he to interview the new arrival and hear what he had to say.