He stood by the door and brought out his two pistols.
"If you make a sound," he said, and excitement rippled his lips into a snarl,
"I will kill you."
They simply stood and stared at him, but at last the pilot opened his mouth to speak — speech was irrepressible with him.
"Silence!" snapped Hornblower.
He moved far enough into the room to allow Brown and Bush to enter after him.
"Tie 'em up," he ordered.
Belts and handkerchiefs and scarves did the work efficiently enough; soon the two men were gagged and helpless, their hands tied behind them.
"Under the table with 'em," said Hornblower.
"Now, be ready for the two hands when I bring 'em down."
He ran up on deck.
"Here, you two," he snapped.
"I've some questions to ask you.
Come down with me."
They put down their work and followed him meekly, to the cabin where Hornblower's pistols frightened them into silence.
Brown ran on deck for generous supply of line with which to bind them and to make the lashings of the other two more secure yet.
Then he and Bush — neither of them had spoken as yet since the adventure began — looked to him for further orders.
"Watch 'em," said Hornblower.
"I'll be back in five minutes with a crew.
There'll be one more man at least to make fast."
He went up to the quay again, and along to where the gangs of galley slaves were assembling, weary after their day's work of unloading.
The ten chained men under the sergeant whom he addressed looked at him with lack-lustre eyes, only wondering faintly what fresh misery this spruce colonel was bringing them.
"Sergeant," he said. "Bring your party down to my ship.
There is work for them there."
"Yes, Colonel," said the sergeant.
He rasped an order at the weary men, and they followed Hornblower down the quay.
Their bare feet made no sound, but the chain which ran from waist to waist clashed rhythmically with their stride.
"Bring them down on to the deck," said Hornblower. "Now come down into the cabin for your orders."
It was all so easy, thanks to that uniform and star.
Hornblower had to try hard not to laugh at the sergeant's bewilderment as they disarmed him and tied him up.
It took no more than a significant gesture with Hornblower's pistol to make the sergeant indicate in which pocket was the key of the prisoners' chain.
"I'll have these men laid out under the table, if you please, Mr Bush," said Hornblower. "All except the pilot.
I want him on deck."
The sergeant and the mate and the two hands were laid out, none too gently, and Hornblower went out on deck while the others dragged the pilot after him; it was nearly quite dark now, with only the moon shining.
The galley slaves were squatting listlessly on the hatchcoaming.
Hornblower addressed them quietly.
Despite his difficulty with the language, his boiling excitement conveyed itself to them.
"I can set you men free," he said.
"There will be an end of beatings and slavery if you will do what I order.
I am an English officer, and I am going to sail this ship to England.
Does anyone not want to come?"
There was a little sigh from the group; it was as if they could not believe they were hearing aright — probably they could not.
"In England," went on Hornblower, "you will be rewarded.
There will be a new life awaiting you."
Now at last they were beginning to understand that they had not been brought on board the cutter for further toil, that there really was a chance of freedom.
"Yes, sir," said a voice.
"I am going to unfasten your chain," said Hornblower.
"Remember this. There is to be no noise.
Sit still until you are told what to do."
He fumbled for the padlock in the dim light, unlocked it and snapped it open — it was pathetic, the automatic gesture with which the first man lifted his arms.