csf.thecommodore-第68部分

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　As　a　renegade；　a　man　fighting　against　his　own　country；　Clausewitz　was　likely　to　be　hanged　if　ever　the　Prussians　laid　hands　on　him。
　〃It　would　be　better　if　he　came；〃　said　Hornblower；　woodenly。
　This　was　a　strange　feeling　of　simultaneous　clairvoyance　and　illness。
　〃I'll　go　with　the　modore；〃　said　Clausewitz　suddenly；　making　what　was　probably　the　bravest　decision　of　his　life。　Perhaps　he　was　carried　away　by　Hornblower's　automaton…like　recklessness。
　Essen　shrugged　his　shoulders　at　this　madness　which　had　descended　upon　them。
　〃Go；　then；〃　he　said。　〃Perhaps　I　may　be　able　to　capture　enough　generals　to　exchange　for　you。〃
　They　trotted　forward　up　the　road；　Hornblower　heard　Essen　bellow　an　order　to　the　battery　mander　to　cease　fire。　He　looked　back；　Brown　was　trotting　after　them；　a　respectful　five　lengths　behind。　They　passed　close　to　some　of　the　Cossack　light　horse；　who　looked　at　them　curiously；　and　then　they　were　in　among　Prussian　skirmishers；　who；　from　the　shelter　of　rocks　and　inequalities　in　the　ground；　were　taking　long　shots　at　the　Cossacks。　No　one　fired　at　them　as　they　rode　boldly　through。　A　Prussian　captain　beside　the　road　saluted　them；　and　Clausewitz　returned　the　salute。　Just　beyond　the　skirmishing　line　was　the　first　formed　infantry；　a　Prussian　regiment　in　battalion　columns　of　panies；　two　on　one　side　of　the　road　and　one　on　the　other。　The　colonel　and　his　staff　were　standing　in　the　road　staring　at　the　odd　trio　approaching　them　…　the　British　naval　officer　in　his　blue　and　gold；　Clausewitz　in　his　Russian　uniform　with　the　row　of　medals；　and　the　British　seaman　with　cutlass　and　pistols　at　his　belt。　The　colonel　asked　a　question　in　a　loud　dry　tone　as　they　approached；　and　Clausewitz　answered　it；　reining　in。
　〃Tell　them　we　must　see　the　general；〃　said　Hornblower　in　French　to　Clausewitz。
　There　was　a　rapid　exchange　of　dialogue　between　Clausewitz　and　the　colonel；　ending　in　the　latter　calling　up　two　or　three　mounted　officers　…　his　adjutant　and　majors；　perhaps　…　to　acpany　them　up　the　road。　Here　they　saw　a　larger　infantry　force　formed　up；　and　a　line　of　guns；　and　here　was　a　party　on　horseback；　the　feathers　and　braid　and　medals　and　mounted　orderlies　indicating　the　presence　of　a　general's　staff。　This　must　be　the　general　…　Yorck；　Hornblower　remembered　his　name　to　be。　He　recognized　Clausewitz　at　once；　and　addressed　him　abruptly　in　German。　A　few　words　on　each　side　seemed　only　to　add　to　the　tension　of　the　situation；　and　there　was　a　short　pause。
　〃He　speaks　French；〃　said　Clausewitz　to　Hornblower；　and　they　both　turned　and　waited　for　him　to　speak。
　〃General；〃　said　Hornblower；　he　was　in　a　dream；　but　he　made　himself　speak　in　his　dream。　〃I　represent　the　King　of　England；　and　Colonel　Clausewitz　represents　the　Emperor　of　Russia。　We　are　fighting　to　free　Europe　from　Bonaparte。　Are　you　fighting　to　maintain　him　as　a　tyrant？〃
　It　was　a　rhetorical　question　to　which　no　answer　was　possible。　Silent　perforce；　Yorck　could　only　await　the　rest　of　what　Hornblower　had　to　say。
　〃Bonaparte　is　beaten。　He　is　retreating　from　Moscow；　and　not　ten　thousand　of　his　army　will　reach　Germany。　The　Spaniards　have　deserted　him；　as　you　know。　So　have　the　Portuguese。　All　Europe　is　turning　upon　him；　having　found　out　how　little　his　promises　mean。　You　know　of　his　treatment　of　Germany　…　I　need　not　tell　you　about　that。　If　you　fight　for　him　you　may　keep　him　on　his　tottering　throne　for　a　few　days　longer。　You　may　drag　out　Germany's　agony　by　that　length　of　time。　But　your　duty　is　to　your　enslaved　country；　to　your　King　who　is　a　prisoner。　You　can　free　them。　You　can　end　the　useless　pouring…out　of　the　blood　of　your　men　now；　at　this　moment。〃
　Yorck　looked　away　from　him；　over　the　bleak　countryside；　at　the　Russian　army　slowly　deploying；　before　he　replied。
　〃What　do　you　suggest？〃　he　said。
　That　was　all　Hornblower　wanted　to　hear。　If　Yorck　was　willing　to　ask　questions；　instead　of　immediately　making　prisoners　of　them；　the　matter　was　ass　good　as　settled。　He　could　leave　the　discussion　to　Clausewitz；　and　sink　back　into　the　weariness　which　was　rising　round　him　like　a　tide。　He　brought　Clausewitz　into　the　conversation　with　a　glance。
　〃An　armistice；〃　said　Clausewitz。　〃An　immediate　suspension　of　hostilities。　The　definitive　terms　can　be　settled　easily　enough　at　leisure。〃
　Yorck　still　hesitated　for　a　moment。　Hornblower；　despite　his　weariness　and　illness；　could　study　him　with　a　renewed　flicker　of　interest；　the　hard　face；　surnburned　to　mahogany；　the　white　hair　and　moustache　in　strange　contrast。　Yorck　was　on　the　edge　of　his　fate。　At　present　he　was　a　loyal　subject　of　the　King　of　Prussia；　a　paratively　undistinguished　general。　He　had　only　to　say　two　words；　and　they　would　make　him　a　traitor　now　and　conceivably　an　historic　figure　in　the　future。　Prussia's　defection　…　at　any　rate；　the　defection　of　the　Prussian　army　…　would　reveal　the　hollowness　of　the　Napoleonic　Empire　in　a　way　nothing　else　could　do。　It　rested　with　Yorck。
　〃I　agree；〃　said　Yorck。
　That　was　all　Hornblower　wanted　to　hear。　He　could　lapse　into　his　dream　…　his　nightmare　…　now；　let　the　rest　of　the　discussion　take　whatever　course　it　would。　When　Clausewitz　turned　back　down　the　road　Hornblower's　horse　followed　him　without　any　guidance　from　Hornblower。　Brown　appeared；　just　his　face；　there　was　nothing　else　that　Hornblower　could　see。
　〃Are　you　all　right；　sir？〃
　〃Of　course　I　am；〃　said　Hornblower　automatically。　The　earth　that　Hornblower　found　himself　treading　was　soft；　as　though　he　were　walking　on　feather　beds　or　on　a　loosely　stretched　bit　of　sailcloth。　It　might　be　better　to　lie　down。　And　Hornblower　was　suddenly　conscious　that　there　was　something　beautiful　about　music　after　all。　He　had　gone　all　his　life　thinking　that　it　was　only　an　irritating　muddle　of　noises；　but　revelation　had　e　to　him　at　last。　It　was　lovely；　ecstatic；　this　music　that　he　heard；　peals　and　peals　of　it；　great　soaring　melodies。　He　had　to　raise　up　his　voice　to　join　in　with　it；　to　sing　and　sing　and　sing。　And　then　the　music　ended　in　a　final　crashing　chord；　leaving　a　silence　in　which　his　voice　sounded　hoarse；　like　a　crow's。　He　stopped；　feeling　rather　embarrassed。　It　was　as　well　that　somebody　else　was　available　to　take　up　the　song。　The　boatman　was　singing　as　he　pulled　at　his　sculls。
　〃Row；　row；　row　you　together　to　Hampton　Court　…〃
　A　delightful　tenor　voice；　on　account　of　it　Hornblower　was　ready　to　excuse　the　wherryman　for　such　an　impertinence　as　singing　while　he　rowed　up　the　river。
　〃Rowing　in　sunshiny　weather　…〃
　Barbara　beside　him　was　laughing　deliciously。　The　sunshine　was　beautiful　and　so　were　the　green　lawns　on　the　river　banks。　He　had　to　laugh　too；　laugh　and　laugh。　And　here　was　little　Richard　climbing　over　his　knees。　What　the　devil　was　Brown　doing；　staring　at　him　like　this？
　
　
　
　
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