“Yes, carry on, Mr. Hornblower.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
This time Hornblower could touch his hat. He gave a rapid order posting a petty officer and men over the guns.
“You see, sir,” said Hornblower, pointing, “a few got away.”
Bush looked down the precipitous hillside that fell to the bay and could see a few figures down there.
“Not enough to trouble us,” he said; his mind was just beginning to work smoothly now.
“No, sir. I’ve forty prisoners under guard at the main gate. I can see Whiting’s collecting the rest. I’ll go on now, sir, if I may.
“Very well, Mr. Hornblower.”
Somebody at least had kept a clear head during the fury of the assault. Bush went on down the farther ramp. A petty officer and a couple of seamen stood there on guard; they came to attention as Bush appeared.
“What are you doing?” he asked.