“I didn’t guess it, sir. I didn’t know you were on shore until Mr. Hornblower told me.”
“Mr. Hornblower? So you know each other already?”
“No, sir. I reported to him when I came on board.”
“So that you could have a few private words without my knowledge?”
“No, sir.”
Bush bit off the ‘of course not’ which he was about to add. Brought up in a hard school, Bush had learned to utter no unnecessary words when dealing with a superior officer indulging in the touchiness superior officers might be expected to indulge in. Yet this particular touchiness seemed more unwarranted even than usual.
“I’ll have you know I allow no one to conspire behind my back, Mr—ah—Bush,” said the captain.
“Aye aye, sir.”
Bush met the captain’s searching stare with the composure of innocence, but he was doing his best to keep his surprise out of his expression, too, and as he was no actor the struggle may have been evident.
“You wear your guilt on your face, Mr. Bush,” said the captain. “I’ll remember this.”