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There was something more than mere fatigue about this desire for sleep。 Asleep； he would be quit of this siege； of its stinks and perils and bitterness； he would be free of his responsibilities； he would not be plagued with the endless reports of Bonaparte's steady advance into the heart of Russia； he would no longer be tormented with the feeling of fighting a desperate and hopeless battle against an enemy who was bound； because of his colossal might； to prevail in the end。 Oblivion awaited him if he could only sleep； oblivion； nepenthe； forgetfulness。 To…night he yearned to sink into sleep as a man might yearn to sink into the arms of his mistress。 His nerves were curiously steady； despite the strain of the last few weeks … perhaps （such was his contrary nature） because of it。 He settled himself down in the straw； and even the tumultuous dreams that assailed him were （as he was somehow aware） not nearly so serious as the thoughts from which he would have suffered had he been awake。
He awoke to Clausewitz's arm on his shoulder； and pieced himself back into the Hornblower who was aiding in the defence of Riga like a man fitting together a jigsaw puzzle。
〃An hour before dawn；〃 said Clausewitz； still only a vague shadow in the brooding darkness。
Hornblower sat up： he was stiff； and had grown cold under the inadequate cover of his cloak。 The landing force； if all had gone well； must be creeping up the bay now。 It was too dark to see anything as he peered over the parapet of the gallery。 Another shadow loomed up at his elbow and thrust something scalding hot into his hand … a glass of tea。 He sipped it gratefully； feeling its warmth penetrate into his inner recesses。 The faint report of a single musket…shot reached his ears； and Clausewitz began a remark to him which was cut short by a violent outburst of firing down in no…man's…land between the trench systems。 The darkness was spangled with points of flame。
〃Possibly patrols with a fit of nerves；〃 said Clausewitz； but the firing showed no signs of dying down。 Instead； it grew in violence。 There was a great spearhead of flame down below； pointing towards an irregular mass of flashes； where apparently a column was meeting a line。 The flashes flared up and died away with the ragged volleys； soon cannons were contributing their orange flames； and immediately afterwards there was more fire as blazing…bustibles … carcases … were flung by attackers and defenders from the parapets to illuminate their enemies。 From the bay arose a curving streak of yellow fire； soaring upwards towards the sky； and then bursting into scarlet stars。
〃Thank God for that！〃 said Hornblower； but he kept the words to himself。
The landing party had reached their station a little ahead of their time； and somebody； English or Russian； had sensibly decided to launch the flank attack immediately upon seeing the firing ashore。 Clausewitz turned and rapped out an order which sent an aide…de…camp hurrying down the stairs。 At almost the same moment a messenger came running up； gabbling Russian so rapidly that Clausewitz； with his limited mand of the language； had to make him repeat the words more slowly。 When the message was delivered he turned to Hornblower。
〃The enemy is in strong force； apparently intending to make a surprise attack。 He might save two days if it were successful。〃
A fresh tumult broke out down below； the landing party had encountered their first opposition； and the invisible landscape towards the shore was spangled with a new pattern of flashes。 There was a desperate battle going on； where attackers and counter…attackers and the flank attack drove together； there was a faint light beginning to show now； enough to reveal Clausewitz； unshaven； and with his uniform covered with bits of straw in direct contrast with his usual spruce appearance。 But still nothing could be seen of the fighting； save for vague smoke…clouds drifting in the semi…darkness。 Hornblower was reminded of Campbell's lines in Hohenlinden about the level sun at morn being unable to pierce the dun war…clouds。 The clatter of musketry and the crash of artillery told of the bitter struggle； and once Hornblower heard a deep shout from many throats answered by a wild yell。 That was when some attack met a counter…attack； presumably。 Steadily the landscape grew brighter； and the messengers began to pour in。
〃Shevstoff has stormed the battery guarding the shore；〃 said Clausewitz； exultantly。
Shevstoff was the general manding the landing party。 If he had stormed the battery the boats' crews would be able to effect an unmolested retreat； while the arrival of a messenger from him here in Daugavgriva meant that he was in full touch with the defenders； and presumably his force had executed its orders and fallen on the flank of the French position。 The firing seemed to be dying away； even though the smoke still blended with the low ground…mist of autumn and kept everything concealed。
〃Kladoff is in the approaches；〃 went on Clausewitz。 〃His workmen are breaking down the parapets。〃
The firing increased again； although now there was so much light that no flashes were visible。 A frightful death…struggle was apparently going on； so desperate that the arrival of the Governor in the gallery attracted little attention from the group straining to see through the fog and smoke。
Essen gathered the details with a few quick questions to Clausewitz； and then he turned to Hornblower。
〃I would have been here an hour ago；〃 he said； 〃but I was detained by the arrival of despatches。〃
Essen's massive countenance was gloomy； he took Hornblower's arm and drew him out of earshot of the junior staff officers。
〃Bad news？〃 asked Hornblower。
〃Yes。 The worst。 We have been beaten in a great battle outside Moscow； and Bonaparte is in the city。〃
That was the worst of news indeed。 Hornblower could foresee a future time when he supposed that battle would rank along with Marengo and Austerlitz and Jena； as a smashing victory which laid a nation low； and the entry into Moscow would rank with the occupation of Vienna and Berlin。 A week or two more and Russia would sue for peace … if she had not begun to do so already … and England would be left alone； with the whole world in arms against her。 Was there anything in the world that could stand against Bonaparte's craft and power？ Even the British Navy？ Hornblower forced himself to take the blow impassively； forced his face to bear no hint of his dismay。
〃We shall fight it out here all the same；〃 he said。
〃Yes；〃 said Essen； 〃my men will fight to the last。 So will my officers。〃
There was almost a grin on his face as he jerked his head towards Clausewitz； that was a man who had his neck in a noose if ever a man had； fighting against his own country。 Hornblower remembered Wellesley's hint to him that his squadron might well serve as a refuge for the Russian Court。 His ships would be jammed with refugees fleeing from this； the last continental country in arms against Bonaparte。
The mist and smoke were thinning； and patches of the field of battle were visible now； and Hornblower and Essen turned their attention to the work in hand as if with relief from contemplating the future。
〃