Horatio Hornblower - Disguised As The Flame

Call all hands, beat the quarters.

One broadside in order to please get in bush.

Point of them pockets, bring stocks ready.

Eyes more ready.

Fire!

Fire!

One broadside in order to please get in bush.

Point of them pockets, bring stocks ready.

Eyes more ready.

Fire!

Presenting Michael Redgrave at CS Foresters in Domitable Man of the Sea, Horatio Hornblore.

Soundtrack

In my somewhat dull retirement, I often live again the details of my active career.

But no single episode of that career stands out more vividly than that dusky autumn evening.

Then I stood on the deck beside Captain Freeman and sailed into the enemy's stronghold.

The patched fort absolutely had been bent on, the name brought a jelly painted out,

and the name flame substituted.

I forced my hope to remain calm and apparently unmoved.

But Freeman, beside name and had given up all potential, was excited as a schoolboy.

There's the heart of them.

And there's at French West Indium and we saw go in this morning.

Oh, there's a lighter beside her.

Of course, they wouldn't unload her at the key.

They'd put her cargo into lighters and send them up river to rural on Paris.

At the moment, I'm more interested in the town's defenses on the shipping.

Near the ports of Address and Tornville on its deep fifth.

Between lighthouses and on Captain La Have,

the battery is there on that low ground beside the jetty.

The batteries are going to be our greatest end there.

I don't expect the ports to find out what's going on in time to open fire.

I don't see why anyone should find out there.

The ships this guy is, and we've got plain pea jackets over our uniform.

Oh, look, there's a lot of shipping further in.

Might even be ships of the line.

They haven't got the yards across.

Well, I've never been in those places this before.

It'll be dark soon.

I hope the weather doesn't clear any more.

It's just light enough to find our way in.

And it'll be dark enough to cover this as we come out.

Let's sail on the leisure.

Oh, that's the pilot flagger coming out to us.

They think we're the flame, sure enough.

Very good.

Well, that's the man to cheerling at the port side.

Secure the pilot when he comes on board.

I'll calm the ship in.

I'll do it.

Oh, then you man.

You're a gang of beauty deer sailing your ship to the enemy as a prize.

Now, come on, let's hear from you.

Shout.

Sing, dance.

Back the lane for food.

Here's the logger, sir.

Here's the pilot coming aboard.

Lea braces.

Over with the wheel and on into the harbor.

Mr. Freeman, have you taken care of the pilot?

I have that, sir.

I put my children with back and shot him down the hatchway.

We were nearing the big Indian man, ma'am.

Chile with loose sails, swinging to a single anchor.

In the fading light, I could just make out a dozen of her crew at her side,

staring curiously at us.

You may hoist out the boats.

Hi, I say.

Here, shall I send the men into room?

Well, only the picked men as arranged.

Remember, they have to take the Indian man without filing a shot.

Once we alarm the shore, we're lost.

Only on the sensor, they've been well drilled.

No, it's away.

Here are the boats coming back, sir.

For the men, they've put a boldness of damn their job, absolutely.

Look!

Look, here comes the Indian man, too!

There he is, you go.

Mr. Freeman, my hand at the letter, please.

I'm afraid we'll forget him no more time.

The short authorities will be fully alert in a moment.

Yes, the cuttle signaling, the shore for the lantern.

Yes, and filing a musket to attract the attention.

Stand by to go, mate.

This is going to be the most ticklish moment of our actual visit.

So, why are you going to go?

There he is, he goes.

Here he is, sir.

Now, the cuttle must have cleared and loaded the bow chaser.

Six pounder from the side of it.

Yes, there's the flame of it.

She can't see us very clearly.

I can see the Indian man, no.

She's coming round very neatly.

That master made of yours is a good man.

Ah, this will be a different matter.

The 32 pandas on the jet here in action now.

We shall be right in their range as we run the jet in.

Shall I reply to that, Farza?

No.

No, six pandas will make no impression on that solid back in.

The clashes will reveal up.

Why aren't they firing again?

They've had time with several soldiers.

I imagine Bernaparte stripped his short offences of seasoned gunners for his army in Germany.

These gunners are probably out in train recruits and working in the dark is making them unhandier than ever.

Look out, sir!

That's all dinner, hey!

We'll, uh, stay steady.

Make no effort to avoid it.

It's a pilot, lucker.

I can see it's painful.

I'm trying to block out his cape.

She's coming straight for us, sir!

And let the weakest go to the wall.

Stand by, strip everybody.

Look at that!

Look at that!

Look at how Farza smashed like an angel!

Look what's pouring into her!

Hm, that was per se.

They fired at the noise.

Oh, you were born, hey!

We're getting into deeper water.

We'll lay it on the other take if you please, Mr. Freeman.

I tried hard to keep any trace of doubt or excitement from my voice.

I knew that success or failure depended on the chances of the next few minutes.

I felt weak with apprehension.

Not merely for the physical danger that we were in, but for the danger to my reputation that I avail.

Men would not stop the think of my real motive.

They would say I'd tried to take advantage of the mutinatal feather my own nest by capturing a prize.

My honor, as well as my life and liberty, will at stake.

There he is, he goes.

We're not a range of the batteries, ma'am.

What a shock for him to say.

A loaded Indian man taken out of harbour right under their very noses.

Very good piece of work, Mr. Freeman.

All hands to the duty at an rubble.

Hooray!

Hooray!

Hooray!

Hooray!

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Hooray!

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Hooray!

Hooray!

Following morning, dawned fairly clear, but with slight patches of mist and a wind backing south by west.

As I came on deck for my bath under the pump, I noted that we were hoped to, with the captured india men as stern.

I knew that I should send her back to England at once, and I could not do that without writing a report.

There was a mutinous flame to deal with that one I could think about to report.

There you are! It's the brain's plane, sir!

What? I guess there she is, sir. Just coming out at mist bank.

There's only one thing to do, we'll have to fetch it out. Clear the ship for action.

Aye, aye, sir.

And you must have got a round on shore now that the brink with the patched sail is playing a double game and they'll be watching for another move.

We delay the mutiners might get in touch with the shore again and explain.

Yes, or if they see from the shore there's two brigs with patched sails, they may guess what's been done.

It's quite so. We'll see if the men have some breakfast first, and if we'll be best of the guns, we'll not run out yet.

Aye, really good, sir.

Yes, sir.

Running out the guns would warn the flame that we expected the fight.

That might tell them that escape to the French was not so easy as they thought.

As I realized that within a hour the deck I thought would be swept with the caronades of the flame.

Within that hour I might be dead or shrieking under the surgeon's knife.

Dexter! There's a lot of small grass putting out from the beast, sir.

Hidden for the flame, I think, sir.

This should be interesting, Mr. Freeman. The mutiners are heading in rather than fight.

They think those cars are coming out to welcome them.

They're in for a shock to me, sir.

Oh, hello. They're not so sure. They're hesitating.

Look, you can see them spilling the wind from their mains off.

Probably an argument going on a board between those who only want to keep out of our range.

Those who want to go over to the French. That argument will be soon resolved.

Those craft are gunboats, and that lug is full of men.

I asked the flame. A warning shot to make the frogs keep their distance.

Look, sir. Look. Look. The flames realize the carf the hostile.

She's wearing round and too late. They're closing in on it or an opening fire.

Look, sir. Look. Look. Look from in from the lug of boarding the flame.

They'll take her. Run the guns out quickly.

At least we shall fight against Frenchmen and not Englishmen.

Gunners? Listen to me.

They're going in among those gunboats and they must be sunk.

Aim true with the base of their masks and don't farm till you're sure you can hit.

We were among the gunboats then.

Our caronates went off on both sides. On our starboard side,

I had one gunboat under my eye, half a dozen men by her tiller, two men at each sweep of midship.

A dozen at the big gun for her. Our shots came smashing in.

The fire, the extreme depression, they smashed straight through the door.

The sides caved in. The sea surged over her.

The big gun slew didn't come to the wreck.

And only a few bobbing men in the water showed there she had been.

Same on the board side. The web was responsible for exposing her small boat to our fire was a fool.

But now the lugger and the flame were trying to get out of the boat.

The sea surged over her. The big gun slew didn't come to the wreck.

And only a few bobbing men in the water showed there she had been.

Down the lugger and the flame were close ahead.

Mr. Freeman, load with canister if you please.

We'll be around alongside the French lugger.

One broad side, and then we'll board it in the smoke.

Aye, aye, sir.

Come in, sir!

I shall want every available man in the boarding party.

You, Mr. Freeman, will stay here.

Oh, but, sir, you'll stay here.

Pick six good seamen to stay with you and work the rigout if we don't come back.

Is that clear, Mr. Freeman?

Yes, sir.

There, ratio.

Townsland.

Players alongside that lugger.

Gunners?

You'll see that every shot tells.

Borders?

You ready to come with me?

Aye, sir.

I'm ready to come with me.

Call the men.

Interer, no further.

A figure of brandishing a cutless and leaped past me on the lugger.

It was brown.

I saw him striking left and right.

Then I was beside him in the struggling, slashing mask.

I stumbled over a pile of dead and wounded men who had been caught in the blast of shot from our drake.

And that stumble saved my life for a blade, snicked past my head as I pitched.

I left for clusters I recovered, disposed of my attacker,

and I fired the pistol in my left hand at a blue uniform figure which bloomed through the smoke at me.

And now the wind blew the smoke clear, fighting around me every way.

And I could see again.

Our master's mate was running down the picole of from the mast head.

On the starboard side was the blade.

I could see French infantry's shaker was over her bullet.

The second wave of borders came reporting in from the port at Reilly.

Come on, man.

Report the frame before they can organize the defense.

Ah!

It's all over now sir.

They've had enough.

You won't be turned.

No, Brian.

Help me up.

This fella's heavy.

He's right on top of me.

Hey!

Hey, thank you.

Well, Brian, what's the situation?

Sir, some of them are riding below there.

Have we left them out, doesn't we?

That load of disarmed and guarded and some went overseas.

They've shipped ours, sir.

Where do the other mutinies?

Down below our French, sir.

Now some of the Frenchies are down there, too, sir.

Cowards?

Sir.

They'd rather die on deck than scuttle into a hole like a wrap.

We'll have them out of it.

Where are you going?

We're all drifting this road.

The quest for mission will cost up and make fail.

No, wait a moment.

We must do this.

The remaining gun boats.

I forgot them in the heat of the battle.

Now I saw the two of the men cut a couple of cables,

links away and show water.

The flame, the lugger and the porter trailing,

whole lofts together made a huge target.

Another shot crashed into us, and then another.

The 24 pound balls were smashing through the whole frail length of the brigade,

tearing their way through the cowardly mutiniers and French below decks.

Haste was essential if we were not to be sunk where we were laid.

Time.

Time.

Get those hatches back and put a sensory over each.

Just to get them out.

Secure your hatches.

Get ready to make fail.

All right, sir.

What top man are they?

A man in the alley.

Let's put a man on the wheel.

Hello, Mr. Freeman.

Car stop and make fail.

rendezvous at the end of the man.

I'm alive, you know.

Where's that sail?

We'll learn.

Hard to stop it.

It goes to port the trailing, sir.

And the place crew's working the lugger away.

We'll all be out of range of the gun boats in the minutes.

Thank heaven the wind is offshore.

Hello.

What's all that going on, oversight?

Comey, sir.

It's the prisoners.

You can hear them froggies.

They're scrambling out through the shadows and jumping over, sir.

I'll let them go.

Half of the darned of the mutiniers who were saved

will get no mercy from the fence after this.

Wait a minute.

Where's the ringleader?

Where's the annul sweet?

He must not escape.

He must be brought to trial or killed.

He waspilosa.

Look, he got his arm over there.

Where?

Swimming.

Yeah, there.

You could see his wrong white hair.

That's all the old sweet.

I call upon it to surrender and stand at all.

I just love in the swine.

Hey, you.

You one centred the hats.

Pick me off that white-haired swimmer with your mask.

Aye, aye, aye.

Look at that splash.

Not within ten yards.

Give me the mask.

Reload.

Quick call. The villain will escape.

I'll have him if I have to jump over and swim to him.

Here's another mask.

Thank you.

Let me out.

Wait, I was a good shot myself.

I'll do it to me.

Come in, sir.

Don't hit me.

He won't lead no more in the grave.

Where?

Where did he go?

Oh, no.

No, no.

No, there he is.

Look, just see his hair, trailing.

There.

Ah, now he's gone.

Yeah.

That's a horrible thing to have to do.

There was no way.

You were a bad witness, friend,

but I called on him to surrender.

Let's just search to which the press.

He's better off, too.

He'd only hang if he was told.

It was true that white hair trailing

like a horrible weed on the sea

was to haunt my dreams for long to come.

Newtonary was suppressed.

The flame retaken, the bench defeated,

and van overpriced security.

Father and Richard and small bridge

seemed close again.

Yet there was no joy in my heart as we sailed to rendezvous,

only a nightmare vision of a long white hair

trailing on red-tinted water.

A ratio hornblower, starting Michael Redgrave,

is based on the novels by CS Forester.

Music composed and conducted by Sydney Torch.

Produced by Harry Allen Torres.

Music composed and conducted by Sydney Torch.

Produced by Harry Allen Torres.

Music composed and conducted by Sydney Torch.