SLEEPLESS
Sometimes he woke at night. The wind came at night, and drove the trees against his window. The scritch scrtitch was enough to bring him to the surface. Once he had left his sleep, he found it hard to get back. The scraping sound brought a knowing of the far cold of the sky. It made him too aware of the foolish smallness of his little-boy self, and the tight curl of his knees beneath his white nightshirt.
"Does the dark frighten you Horatio?" his father had asked.
"No, Sir." He had replied slowly. He was an honest boy, and it was not exactly fear. It was just the knowing that his life, and all he loved, was such a tiny spark under all that darkness pressing away above forever.
Father had understood, it seemed.
"Very well, son," He said. "You may light your candle at these times, and read until you are able to find sleep again. Perhaps it would be best to keep a supply of books at your bedside. You will be careful with the candle of course."
Dr .Hornblower looked down at this small son. He smiled briefly, and left the room.
"Horrie, Horrie dear? Where are you? "
Maria paused in the sitting room doorway.
"What are you doing in here? You are so far from the fire. Are you not cold? Are you ill? Do you want a nice cup of tea?"
He looked up from his book. She was such a soft foolish fluttering thing, in her ribboned nightcap. It was, after all, easy to smile at her.
"I'm fine, Maria. I'm just reading. I tried not to wake you." He spoke gently, carefully. "Don't let me keep you from your good sleep. I'll be there soon."
She hurried back to to the bedroom. Her head was low, but he could see the crumple of her chin.
Horatio returned to his book. In the morning, he thought, he would find a way to tell her that he didn't like tea.
Watch, in the deep night. He could see well enough, in the diffuse light reflected off the snow. The snow had saved them. Horatio shifted his weight, and the chair creaked. The man in the bed opened his eyes.
"You should be in bed, sir." Bush said. "I'm well enough."
"Shh, William." Hornblower said. He pushed back the damp hair, felt the fever. "Would you like some water now?"
"Aye, sir, thank you, but you shouldn't-"
Horatio stroked Willam's brow again, watched the glassy eyes droop and shut.
"Avast that talk," He said " I am right where I want to be."