'Jackson,' went on Hornblower, addressing the coxswain, 'you will quit the boat last and take command if I fall.'
'Aye aye, sir.'
It was usual to use the poetic expression 'fall' for 'die', and it was only after Hornblower had uttered the word that he thought about its horrible real meaning in the present circumstances.
'Is that all understood?' asked Hornblower harshly; it was his mental stress that made his voice grate so.
Everyone nodded except one man.
'Begging your pardon, sir,' said Hales, the young man who pulled stroke oar, 'I'm feeling a bit queer-like.'
Hales was a lightly built young fellow of swarthy countenance. He put his hand to his forehead with a vague gesture as he spoke.
'You're not the only one to feel queer,' snapped Hornblower.
The other men chuckled. The thought of running the gauntlet of the shore batteries, of boarding an armed corvette in the teeth of opposition, might well raise apprehension in the breast of a coward. Most of the men detailed for the expedition must have felt qualms to some extent.
'I don't mean that, sir,' said Hales indignantly. ''Course I don't.'