But still, its the West Indies for us, anyway, said Hornblower philosophically. Yellow fever. Ague. Hurricanes. Poisonous serpents. Bad water. Tropical heat. Putrid fever. And ten times more chances of action than with the Channel fleet.
Thats so, agreed Bush, appreciatively.
With only three and four years seniority as lieutenants, respectively, the two young men (and with young mens confidence in their own immortality) could face the dangers of West Indian service with some complacence.
Captains coming off, sir, reported the midshipman of the watch hurriedly.
Hornblower whipped his telescope to eye and trained it on the approaching shore boat.
Quite right, he said. Run forard and tell Mr. Buckland. Bosuns mates! Sideboys! Lively, now!
Captain Sawyer came up through the entry port, touched his hat to the quarterdeck, and looked suspiciously around him. The ship was in the condition of confusion to be expected when she was completing for foreign service, but that hardly justified the sidelong, shifty glances which Sawyer darted about him. He had a big face and a prominent hawk nose which he turned this way and that as he stood on the quarterdeck. He caught sight of Bush, who came forward and reported himself.
You came aboard in my absence, did you? asked Sawyer.
Yes, sir, said Bush, a little surprised.
Who told you I was on shore?
No one, sir.
How did you guess it, then?
I didnt guess it, sir. I didnt 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.
Ill have you know I allow no one to conspire behind my back, MrahBush, said the captain.
Aye aye, sir.
Bush met the captains 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. Ill remember this.
With that he turned away and went below, and Bush, relaxing from his attitude of attention, turned to express his surprise to Hornblower. He was eager to ask questions about this extraordinary behaviour, but they died away on his lips when he saw that Hornblowers face was set in a wooden unresponsiveness. Puzzled and a little hurt, Bush was about to note Hornblower down as one of the captains toadiesor as a madman as wellwhen he caught sight out of the tail of his eye of the captains head reappearing above the deck. Sawyer must have swung round when at the foot of the companion and come up again simply for the purpose
of catching his officers off their guard discussing himand Hornblower knew more about his captains habits than Bush did. Bush made an enormous effort to appear natural.
Can I have a couple of hands to carry my seachest down? he asked, hoping that the words did not sound nearly as stilted to the captain as they did to his own ears.
Of course, Mr. Bush, said Hornblower, with a formidable formality. See to it, if you please, Mr. James.
Ha! snorted the captain, and disappeared once more down the companion.
Hornblower flicked one eyebrow at Bush, but that was the only indication he gave, even then, of any recognition that the captains actions were at all unusual, and Bush, as he followed his seachest down to his cabin, realised with dismay that this was a ship where no one ventured on any decisive expression of opinion. But the Renown was completing for sea, amid all the attendant bustle and confusion, and Bush was on board, legally one of her officers, and there was nothing he could do except reconcile himself philosophically to his fate. He would have to live through this commission, unless any of the possibilities catalogued by Hornblower in their first conversation should save him the trouble.
Chapter II
RenownYet there were some minutes of grace left him, during which he could stand balancing on the deck and allow his mind to wander free. Not that Bush was conscious of any need for meditationhe would have smiled at such a suggestion were anyone to make it to him. But the last few days had passed in a whirl, from the moment when his orders had arrived and he had said goodbye to his mother and sisters (he had had three weeks with them after the Conqueror had paid off) and hurried to Plymouth, counting the money he had left in his pockets to make sure he could pay the postchaise charges. The Renown had been in all the flurry of completing for the West Indian station, and during the thirtysix hours that elapsed before she sailed Bush had hardly time to sit down, let alone sleephis first good nights rest had come while the Renown clawed her way across the bay. Yet almost from the moment of his first arrival on board he had been harassed by the fantastic moods of the captain, now madly suspicious and again stupidly easygoing. Bush was not a man sensitive to atmospherehe was a sturdy soul philosophically prepared to do his duty in any of the difficult conditions to be expected at seabut he could not help but be conscious of the tenseness and fear that pervaded life in the Renown . He knew that he felt dissatisfied and worried, but he did not know that these were his own forms of tenseness and fear. In three days at sea he had hardly come to know a thing about his colleagues: he could vaguely guess that Buckland, the first lieutenant, was capable and steady, and that Roberts, the second, was kindly and easygoing; Hornblower seemed active and intelligent, Smith a trifle weak; but these deductions were really guesses. The wardroom officersthe