“A chapter of accidents. It might have been better for your first lieutenant if he had met the same fate.”
Bush did not make any reply to that remark; even though the same thought had occurred to him. Buckland had been taken prisoner in his bed, and he would never be able to live that down.
“I think,” said Sankey, judicially, “he will never be able to look for promotion. Unfortunate for him, seeing that he could otherwise have expected it as a result of your successes in Santo Domingo, on which so far I have not congratulated you, sir. My felicitations.”
“Thank you,” said Bush.
“A resounding success. Now it will be interesting to see what use Sir Richard—may his name be ever revered—will make of all these vacancies. Cogshill to the Renown. That seems certain. Then a commander must be promoted to the Buckler. The ineffable joy of post rank! There are four commanders on this station—I wonder which of them will enter through the pearly gates? You have been on this station before, I believe, sir?”
“Not for three years,” said Bush.
“Then you can hardly be expected to be up to date regarding the relative standing of the officers here in Sir Richard’s esteem. Then a lieutenant will be made commander. No doubt about who that will be.”
Sankey spared Bush a glance, and Bush asked the question which was expected of him.
“Who?”
“Dutton. First lieutenant of the flagship. Are you acquainted with him?”