Chapter 7
 Pellew stared down at the now-sleeping Hornblower. He was alone in the room now. Matthews, Styles, and Oldroyd, seemingly satisfied that something was, at last, being done, had decided to go to their usual hammocks to spend the rest of the night.
Not that we don't care bout Mr.Ornblower, sir, et's nicer to lie down an' all, Matthews said.
The explanation, Pellew reflected, had been completely unnecessary, yet strangely comforting all the same. He wondered why. He also wondered why he had lashed out Kennedy that way.
Horatio's father lives in Portsmouth, sir.
What the hell has that got to do with anything?
Kennedy just looked at him, shell -shocked and startled. Then he glanced about the room as though some ugly, prehistoric predator were about to pounce at him and then began to babble out of nothing more than nervousness.
Well, sir, you see-well, Hora-I mean, Mr. Hornblower's father's a doctor, sir, quite a good one. I met him last Christmas, sir, he knows what he's doing.
Pellew cringed as he remembered the stammer in Kennedy's voice. He'd wanted to kick himself for making Kennedy so nervous and then he'd gone on to yell at him some more. It was just-he shook his head and laid a hand on Hornblower's forehead and gently brushed the boy's sticky curls out of the way.
It's just it's so much easier to pretend that I'm your father when I don't have to think about the one you already have, he said quietly. He took a deep, shuddering breath. Don't-don't die on me, boy. Your incredibly hot and mostly likely exhausted, but please don't give up. You've got everything to live for, you know that don't you? And-and you're son to me. You really are even though I'm not really your father. Just don't give up, he ended in a whisper, touching Hornblower's hot cheek with the back of his hand.. Whatever you do, Hornblower, don't give up.