“Can’t keep her on her course, sir,” reported the quartermaster.

Clorinda was yawing sluggishly as the rollers came at her. Far ahead the Estrella was almost hull down. Now came a breath of a different air, the tiniest breath; Hornblower felt it, nearly imperceptible, on his sweating face long before Clorinda made response. It was a different air indeed, not the heated air of the land breeze, but the fresher air of the trade wind, clean with its passage over three thousand miles of ocean. The sails flapped and shivered; Clorinda swung more meaningly.

“Here it comes!” exclaimed Fell. “Full and by!”

A stronger puff came, so that the rudder could bite. A lull, another puff, another lull, another puff, yet each puff was stronger yet. The next puff did not die away. It endured, heeling Clorinda over. A roller burst against her starboard bow in a dazzling rainbow. Now they had caught the trade wind; now they could thrust their way northwards close-hauled in the trail of the Estrella. With the clean, fresh wind blowing, and the sensation of successful striving with it, a new animation came over the ship. There were smiles to be seen.

“She hasn’t set her tops’ls yet, My Lord,” said Gerard, his telescope still to his eye.

“I doubt if she will while she makes her northing,” replied Hornblower.

“On a wind she can weather and headreach on us,” said Spendlove. “Just as she did yesterday.”

Yesterday? Was it only yesterday? It could have been a month ago, so much had happened since yesterday’s chase.

“Do you think that drogue ought to have any effect?” asked Fell, approaching them.

“None, sir, practically speaking,” answered Spendlove. “Not while that spun yarn keeps it tail forward.”

Fell had one huge hand clasped in the other, grinding his knuckles into his palm.

“For me,” said Hornblower, and every eye turned to him, “I am going to say farewell to gold lace. A cooler coat and a looser neckcloth.”

Let Fell display worry and nervousness; he himself was going below as if he had no interest whatever in the outcome of the affair. Down in the hot cabin it was a relief to throw off his full-dress uniform—ten pounds of broadcloth and gold—and to have Giles get out a clean shirt and white duck trousers.

“I’ll take my bath,” said Hornblower, meditatively.

He knew perfectly well that Fell thought it undignified and dangerous to discipline that an Admiral should disport himself under the washdeck pump, hosed down by grinning seamen, and he neither agreed nor cared. No miserable sponging down could take the place of his bath. The seamen pumped vigorously, and Hornblower pranced with middle-aged abandon under the stinging impact of the water. Now the clean shirt and trousers were doubly delightful; he felt a new man as he came on deck again, and his unconcern was not all pretence when Fell nervously approached him.

“She’s running clean away from us again, My Lord,” he said.

“We know she can, Sir Thomas. We can only wait until she puts her helm up and sets her tops’ls.”

“As long as we can keep her in sight—” said Fell.

Clorinda was lying right over, fighting her way to the northward.

“I can see that we’re doing all we can, Sir Thomas,” said Hornblower, soothingly.

The morning was wearing on. “Up spirits!” was piped, and Fell agreed with the sailing master that it was noon, and the hands were sent to dinner. Now it was only when Clorinda lifted to a wave that a telescope, trained over the starboard bow from the quarterdeck, could detect the gleam of Estrella’s sails over the horizon. She still had no topsails set; Gomez was acting on the knowledge that close-hauled his schooner behaved better without her square sails—unless he was merely playing with his pursuers. The hills of Puerto Rico had sunk out of sight below the horizon far, far astern. And the roast beef at dinner, roast fresh beef, had been most disappointing, tough and stringy and without any taste whatever.

“Stuart said he’d send me the best sirloin the island could produce, My Lord,” said Gerard, in answer to Hornblower’s expostulations.

“I wish I had him here,” said Hornblower. “I’d make him eat it, every bit, without salt. Sir Thomas, please accept my apologies.”

“Er—yes, My Lord,” said Fell, who had been invited to his Admiral’s table and who had been recalled from his own private thoughts by Hornblower’s apologies. “That drogue—”

Having said those words—that special word, rather—he was unable to say more. He looked across the table at Hornblower. His lantern-jawed face—the brick-red cheeks always looked odd in that conformation—showed his anxiety, which was accentuated by the look in his eyes.

“If we don’t know all about it today,” said Hornblower, “we’ll hear all about it at some later date.”

It was the truth, even though it was not the kindest thing to say.

“We’ll be the laughing-stock of the Islands,” said Fell.

No one in the world could look more miserable than he did at that moment. Hornblower himself was inclined to give up hope, but the sight of that despair roused his contrary nature.

“There’s all the difference in the world between six knots, which she’s making now close-hauled, and twelve knots, which she’ll make when she puts up her helm,” he said. “Mr. Spendlove here will tell you that the water resistance is a function of the square of the speed. Isn’t that so, Mr. Spendlove?”

“Perhaps a function of the cube or even one of the higher powers, My Lord.”

“So we can still hope, Sir Thomas. That spun yarn will have eight times the pull upon it when she alters course.”

“It’ll be chafing now, as well, My Lord,” added Spendlove.

“If they didn’t see the thing last night and cast it off,” said Fell, still gloomy.

When they reached the deck again the sun was inclining towards the west.

“Masthead, there!” hailed Fell. “Is the chase still in sight?”

“Yes, sir. Hull down from here, sir, but plain in sight. Two points or thereabouts on the weather bow.”

“She’s made all the northing she needs,” grumbled Fell. “Why doesn’t she alter course?”

There was nothing to do except wait, to try and extract some pleasure from the clean wind and the blue and white sea; but the pleasure was only faint now, the sea did not seem so blue. Nothing to do except wait, with the minutes dragging like hours. Then it happened.

“Deck, there! Chase is altering course to port. She’s running right before the wind.”

“Very well.”

Fell looked round at all the faces of the crowd on the quarterdeck. His own was as tense as anyone else’s.

“Mr. Sefton, alter course four points to port.”

He was going to play the game out to the bitter end, even though yesterday’s experience, closely parallel to the present, had shown that Clorinda stood no chance in normal circumstances of intercepting.

“Deck, there! She’s settin’ her tops’ls. T’garns’ls, too, sir!”

“Very well.”

“We’ll soon know now,” said Spendlove. “With the drogue in action she must lose speed. She must.”

“Deck, there! Cap’n, sir!” The lookout’s voice had risen to a scream of excitement. “She’s flown up into the wind! She’s all aback! Fore topmast’s gone, sir!”

“So have her rudder pintles,” said Hornblower, grimly.

Fell was leaping on the deck, actually dancing with joy, his face radiant. But he re-collected himself with all speed.

“Come two points to starboard,” he ordered. “Mr. James, get aloft with you and tell me how she bears.”

“She’s taking in her mains’l!” shouted the lookout.

“Trying to get before the wind again,” commented Gerard.

“Cap’n, sir!” This was James’s voice from the masthead. “You’re heading a point to loo’ard of her.”

“Very well.”

“She’s coming before the wind—no, she’s all aback again, sir!”