“I don’t expect any of you gentlemen wish to ask Mr. Bush any more questions?” asked the president of the court in such a way that questions could not possibly have been asked. “Call Lieutenant Hornblower.”
Hornblower made his bow to the court; he was wearing that impassive expression which Bush knew by now to conceal an internal turbulence. He was asked as few questions on Samaná as Bush had been.
“It has been suggested,” said the president, “that this attack on the fort, and the hoisting up of the gun to search the bay, were on your initiative?”
“I can’t think why that suggestion was made, sir. Mr. Buckland bore the entire responsibility.”
“I won’t press you further about that Mr. Hornblower, then. I think we all understand. Now, let us hear about your recapture of the Renown. What first attracted your attention?”
It called for steady questioning to get the story out of Hornblower. He had heard a couple of musket shots, which had worried him, and then he saw the Renown come up into the wind, which made him certain something was seriously wrong. So he had collected his prize crews together and laid the Renown on board.
“Were you not afraid of losing the prizes, Mr. Hornblower?”
“Better to lose the prizes than the ship, sir. Besides—”
“Besides what, Mr. Hornblower?”
“I had every sheet and halliard cut in the prizes before we left them, sir. It took them some time to reeve new ones, so it was easy to recapture them.”