“I thought I was the only one who regretted it, my lord.”
Bush winced again when he heard the words; this was the time for Hornblower to ingratiate himself with those in authority, not to offend them with unconcealed bitterness. This meeting with Parry was a stroke of good fortune that any, halfpay naval officer would give two fingers for. Bush was reassured, however, by a glance at the speakers. Hornblower was smiling with infectious lightheartedness, and Parry was smiling back at him. Either the implied bitterness had escaped Parry’s notice or it had only existed in Bush’s mind.
“I was actually forgetting that I owe you a further thirty-five shillings,” said Parry, with a start of recollection. “Forgive me. There, I think that settles my monied indebtedness; I am still in your debt for a valuable experience.”
It was a thick wad of money that Hornblower put back in his pocket.
“I trust you will keep a sharp lookout for footpads on your way back, Mr. Hornblower,” said Parry with a glance.
“Mr. Bush will be walking home with me, my lord. It could be a valiant footpad that would face him.”
“No need to worry about footpads tonight,” interposed the colonel. “Not tonight.”
The colonel wore a significant grin; the others displayed a momentary disapproval of what apparently was an indiscretion, but the disapproval faded out again when the colonel waved a hand at the clock.
“Our orders go into force at four, my lord,” said Lambert.
“And now it is half past. Excellent.”