“Yes, sir,” said Maria. She smiled again, clearly pleased not only that Hornblower should jest with her but also because he remembered what she had told him about the school.
Back in the attic again Hornblower and Bush resumed their conversation, this time on a more serious plane. The state of Europe occupied their attention.
“This man Bonaparte,” said Bush. “He’s a restless cove.”
“That’s the right word for him,” agreed Hornblower.
“Isn’t he satisfied? Back in ‘96 when I was in the old Superb in the Mediterranean—that was when I was commissioned lieutenant—he was just a general. I can remember hearing his name for the first time, when we were blockading Toulon. Then he went to Egypt. Now he’s First Consul—isn’t that what he calls himself?”
“Yes. But he’s Napoleon now, not Bonaparte any more. First Consul for life.”
“Funny sort of name. Not what I’d choose for myself.”
“Lieutenant Napoleon Bush,” said Hornblower. “It wouldn’t sound well.”
They laughed together at the ridiculous combination.
“The Morning Chronicle says he’s going a step farther,” went on Hornblower. “There’s talk that he’s going to call himself Emperor.”