“Maybe you could send me, sir,” said Bush. “That is, if you were to leave Mr. Hornblower in command here.”
“Um—” said Buckland. “Oh well, I don’t see anything else to do. Can I trust you, Mr. Hornblower?”
“I’ll do my best, sir.”
“Let me see—” said Buckland.
“I could go back to the ship with you in your gig, sir,” said Bush. “Then there’d be no time wasted.”
This prodding of a senior officer into action was something new to Bush, but he was learning the art fast. The fact that the three of them had not long ago been fellow conspirators made it easier; and once the ice was broken, as soon as Buckland had once admitted his juniors to give him counsel and advice, it became easier with repetition.
“Yes, I suppose you’d better,” said Buckland, and Bush promptly rose to his feet, so that Buckland could hardly help doing the same.
Bush ran his eye over Hornblower’s battered form.
“Now look you here, Mr. Hornblower,” he said. “You take some sleep. You need it.”
“I relieve Whiting as officer on duty at midnight, sir,” said Hornblower, “and I have to go the rounds.”