'Anybody hurt?' asked Hornblower, recovering himself.
'On'y a scratch, sir,' said one voice.
It seemed a miracle that no one was killed.
'Carpenter's mate, sound the well,' said Hornblower and then, recollecting himself, 'No, damn it. Belay that order. If the Dons can save the ship, let 'em try.'
Already the ship of the line whose salvo had done the damage was filling her topsails again and bearing away from them, while the frigate which had pursued them was running down on them fast. A wailing figure came scrambling out of the afterhatch way. It was the duchess's maid, so mad with terror that her seasickness was forgotten. The duchess put a protective arm round her and tried to comfort her.
'Your Grace had better look to your baggage,' said Hornblower. 'No doubt you'll be leaving us shortly for other quarters with the Dons. I hope you will be more comfortable.'
He was trying desperately hard to speak in a matter-of-fact way, as if nothing out of the ordinary were happening, as if he were not soon to be a prisoner of the Spaniards; but the duchess saw the working of the usually firm mouth, and marked how the hands were tight clenched.
'How can I tell you how sorry I am about this?' asked the duchess, her voice soft with pity.
'That makes it the harder for me to bear,' said Hornblower, and he even forced a smile.
The Spanish frigate was just rounding-to, a cable's length to windward.