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full ten minutes passed before the candidate for promotion returned； making a brave effort to smile。
'Six months more at sea？' asked someone。
'No；' was the unexpected answer。 'Three！ 。 。 。 I was told to send the next man。 It had better be you。'
'But what did they ask you？'
'They began by asking me to define a rhumb line。 。 。 。 But don't keep them waiting； I advise you。' Some thirty officers had their textbooks open on the instant to reread about thumb lines。
'You were there ten minutes；' said the clerkly officer； looking at his watch。 'Forty of us； ten minutes each…why； it'll be midnight before they reach the last of us。 They'll never do it。'
'They'll be hungry。' said someone。
'Hungry for our blood；' said another。
'Perhaps they'll try us in batches；' suggested a third； 'like the French tribunals。'
Listening to them； Hornblower was reminded of French aristocrats jesting at the foot of the scaffold。 Candidates departed and candidates returned； some gloomy； some smiling。 The cabin was already far less crowded； Hornblower was able to secure sufficient deck space to seat himself； and he stretched out his legs with a nonchalant sigh of relief； and he no sooner emitted the sigh than he realized that it was a stage effect which he had put on for his own benefit。 He was as nervous as he could be。 The winter night was falling； and some good Samaritan on board sent in a couple of purser's dips to give a feeble illumination to the darkening cabin。
'They are passing one in three；' said the clerkly officer； making ready for his turn。 'May I be the third。'
Hornblower got to his feet again when he left； it would be his turn next。 He stepped out under the halfdeck into the dark night and breathed the chill fresh air。 A gentle breeze was blowing from the southward； cooled； presumably； by the snow…clad Atlas Mountains of Africa across the strait。 There was neither moon nor stars。 Here came the clerkly officer back again。
'Hurry；' he said。 'They're impatient。'
Hornblower made his way past the sentry to the after cabin； it was brightly lit； so that he blinked as he entered； and stumbled over some obstruction。 And it was only then that he remembered that he had not straightened his neckcloth and seen to it that his sword hung correctly at his side。 He went on blinking in his nervousness at the three grim faces across the table。
'Well； sir？' said a stern voice。 'Report yourself。 We have no time to waste。'
'H…Hornblower； sir。 H…Horatio H…Hornblower。 M…Midshipman…I mean Acting…Lieutenant； H。M。S。 Indefatigable。'
'Your certificates； please；' said the right…hand face。
Hornblower handed them over； and as he waited for them to be examined； the left…hand face suddenly spoke。 'You are close…hauled on the port tack； Mr Hornblower； beating up channel with a nor…easterly wind blowing hard； with Dover bearing north two miles。 Is that clear？'
'Yes； sir。'
'Now the wind veers four points and takes you flat aback。 What do you do； sir？ What do you do？'
Hornblower's mind； if it was thinking about anything at all at that moment； was thinking about rhumb lines； this question took him as much aback as the situation it envisaged。 His mouth opened and shut； but there was no word he could say。
'By now you're dismasted；' said the middle face…a swarthy face； Hornblower was making the deduction that it must belong to Black Charlie Hammond。 He could think about that even if he could not force his mind to think at all about his examination。
'Dismasted；' said the left…hand face； with a smile like Nero enjoying a Christian's death agony。 'With Dover cliffs under your lee。 You are in serious trouble； Mr…ah…Hornblower。'
Serious indeed。 Hornblower's mouth opened and shut again His dulled mind heard； without paying special attention to it； the thud of a cannon shot somewhere not too far off。 The board passed no remark on it either； but a moment later there came a series of further cannon shots which brought the three captains to their feet。 Unceremoniously they rushed out of the cabin； sweeping out of the way the sentry at the door。 Hornblower followed them； they arrived in the waist just in time to see a rocket soar up into the night sky and burst in a shower of red stars。 It was the general alarm； over the water of the anchorage they could hear the drums rolling as all the ships present beat to quarters。 On the portside gangway the remainder of the candidates were clustered； speaking excitedly。
'See there！' said a voice。
Across half a mile of dark water a yellow light grew until the ship there was wrapped in flame。 She had every sail set and was heading straight into the crowded anchorage。
'Fire ships！'
'Officer of the watch！ Call my gig！' bellowed Foster。
A line of fire ships was running before the wind； straight at the crowd of anchored ships。 The Santa Barbara was full of the wildest bustle as the seamen and marines came pouring on deck； and as captains and candidates shouted for boats to take them back to their ships。 A line of orange flame lit up the water； followed at once by the roar of a broadside； some ship was firing her guns in the endeavour to sink a fire ship。 Let one of those blazing hulls make contact with one of the anchored ships； even for a few seconds； and the fire would be transmitted to the dry； painted timber； to the tarred cordage； to the inflammable sails； so that nothing would put it out。 To men in highly bustible ships filled with explosives fire was the deadliest and most dreaded peril of the sea。
'You shore boat； there！' bellowed Hammond suddenly。 'You shore boat！ e alongside！ e alongside； blast you！'
His eye had been quick to sight the pair…oar rowing by。
'e alongside or I'll fire into you！' supplemented Foster。 'Sentry； there； make ready to give them a shot！'
At the threat the wherry turned and glided towards the mizzen chains。
'Here you are； gentlemen；' said Hammond。
The three captains rushed to the mizzen chains and flung themselves down into the boat。 Hornblower was at their heels。 He knew there was small enough chance of a junior officer getting a boat to take him back to his ship； to which it was his bounden duty to go as soon as possible。 After the captains had reached their destinations he could use this boat to reach the Indefatigable。 He threw himself off into the sternsheets as she pushed off； knocking the breath out of Captain Harvey； his sword scabbard clattering on the gunwale。 But the three captains accepted his uninvited presence there without ment。
'Pull for the Dreadnought；' said Foster。
'Dammit； I'm the senior！' said Hammond。 'Pull for Calypso。'
'Calypso it is；' said Harvey。 He had his hand on the tiller； heading the boat across the dark water。
'Pull！ Oh； pull！' said Foster； in agony。 There can be no mental torture like that of a captain whose ship is in peril and he not on board。
'There's one of them；' said Harvey。
Just ahead； a small brig was bearing down on them under topsails； they could see the glow of the fire； and as they watched the fire suddenly burst into roaring fury； wrapping the whole vessel in flames in a moment； like a set piece in a fireworks display。 Flames spouted out of the holes in her sides and roare