Epilogue
In the dim, quiet hospital, noisy only with the clamouring of souls, Horatio's eyes began to
flicker. His first vision was of Commodore Pellew, sitting by his bed, head bowed, still holding
Horatio's limp hand in his own. His face was etched with exhaustion, and his eyes were shut.
Horatio could not force a sound past the rising lump in his throat, so he squeezed Pellew's hand.
The commodore's head snapped up suddenly, to see a young commander watching him with clear,
steady eyes.
"It's good to have you back, Mr. Hornblower," Pellew whispered, not trusting his voice for
another instant.
"It's good to be back, sir." Horatio could see God in Pellew's eyes.
Faintly he heard the distant sounds of Matthews and Styles' approach. And in the corner of the
room, so brief it might have been his imagination, he saw Archie and Wellard, smiling at him. And
then they were gone. Horatio knew that their spirits still followed him, and drew comfort from
their presence. His two guardian angels, behind him, singing and bickering for all eternity.
Horatio Hornblower, commander of His Majesty's Ship Retribution, smiled.