“Then how—? Oh, I suppose you’ve been studying.”
To Bush it was as strange that a man should read up beforehand and be prepared for conditions hitherto unknown as it was strange to Hornblower that a man should find trouble in mathematics.
“At any rate, there we are,” said Hornblower, tapping the chart with the pencil.
“Yes,” said Bush.
They both looked at the chart with the same thought in mind.
“What d’ye think Number One’ll do?” asked Bush.
Buckland might be legally in command of the ship, but it was too early yet to speak of him as the captain—‘the capain’ was still that weeping figure swathed in canvas on the cot in the cabin.
“Can’t tell,” answered Hornblower, “but he makes up his mind now or never. We lose ground to loo’ard every day from now, you see.”
“What’d you do?” Bush was curious about this junior lieutenant who had shown himself ready of resources and so guarded in speech.
“I’d read those orders,” said Hornblower instantly. “I’d rather be in trouble for having done something than for not having done anything.”