So walked Buckland and Hornblower, and curious glances were cast at them by the others, for even on this golden evening, with the blueenamel sea overside and the sun sinking to starboard with the promise of a magnificent sunset, everyone was conscious that in the cabin just below their feet lay a wretched insane man, halfswathed in a straitjacket; and Buckland had to make up his mind how to deal with him. Up and down, up and down walked Buckland and Hornblower. Hornblower seemed to be as deferential as ever, and Buckland seemed to be asking questions; but some of the replies he received must have been unexpected, for more than once Buckland stopped in the middle of a turn and stood facing Hornblower, apparently repeating his question, while Hornblower seemed to be standing his ground both literally and figuratively, sturdy and yet respectful, as Buckland stood with the sun illuminating his haggard features.
Perhaps it had been a fortunate chance that had made Hornblower decide to take a bath under the washdeck pump—this conversation had its beginnings in that incident.
“Is that a council of war?” said Smith to Bush, looking across at the pair.
“Not likely,” said Bush.
A first lieutenant would not deliberately ask the advice or even the opinion of one so junior. Yet—yet—it might be possible, starting with idle conversation about different matters.
“Don’t tell me they’re discussing Catholic Emancipation,” said Lomax.
It was just possible, Bush realised guiltily, that they were discussing something else—that question as to how the captain had come to fall down the hatchway. Bush found himself automatically looking round the deck for Wellard when that thought occurred to him. Wellard was skylarking in the main rigging with the midshipmen and master’s mates as if he had not a care in the world. But it could not be that question which Buckland and Homblower were discussing. Their attitudes seemed to indicate that theories and not facts were the subject of the debate.
“Anyway, they’ve settled it,” said Smith.
Hornblower was touching his hat to Buckland, and Buckland was turning to go below again. Several curious pairs of eyes looked across at Hornblower now that he was left solitary, and as he became conscious of their regard he strolled over to them.
“Affairs of state?” asked Lomax, asking the question which everyone wanted asked.