You make it sound very easy, Mr. Hornblower. Buta hundred and eighty men?
Enough, I think, sir.
What makes you think so?
There were six guns firing at us from the fort, sir. Ninety men at mostsixty more likely. Ammunition party; men to heat the furnaces. A hundred and fifty men altogether; perhaps as few as a hundred.
But why should that be all they had?
The Dons have nothing to fear on that side of the island. Theyre holding out against the blacks, and the French, maybe, and the English in Jamaica. Theres nothing to tempt the blacks to attack em across the marshes. Its south of Samaná Bay that the danger lies. The Donsll have every man that can carry a musket on that side. Thats where the cities are. Thats where this fellow Toussaint, or whatever his name is, will be threatening em, sir.
The last word of this long speech came as a fortunate afterthought; Hornblower clearly was restraining himself from pointing out the obvious too didactically to his superior officer. And Bush could see Buckland squirm in discomfort at this casual mention of blacks and French. Those secret orderswhich Bush had not been allowed to readmust lay down some drastic instructions regarding the complicated political situation in Santo Domingo, where the revolted slaves, the French, and the Spaniards (nominal allies though these
last might be, elsewhere in the world) all contended for the mastery.
Well leave the blacks and the French out of this, said Buckland, confirming Bushs suspicions.
Yes, sir. But the Dons wont, said Hornblower, not very abashed. Theyre more afraid of the blacks than of us at present.
So you think this attack might succeed? asked Buckland, desperately changing the subject.
I think it might, sir. But times getting on.
Buckland sat looking at his two juniors in painful indecision, and Bush felt full sympathy for him. A second bloody repulsepossibly something even worse, the cutting off and capitulation of the entire landing partywould be Bucklands certain ruin.
With the fort in our hands, sir, said Hornblower, we can deal with the privateers up the bay. They could never use it as an anchorage again.
Thats true, agreed Buckland. It would be a neat and economical fulfillment of his orders; it would restore his credit.
The timbers of the ship creaked rhythmically as the Renown rode over the waves. The trade wind came blowing into the cabin, relieving it of some of its stuffiness, breathing cooler air on Bushs sweaty face.
Damn it, said Buckland with sudden reckless decision, lets do it.
Very good, sir, said Hornblower.
Bush had to restrain himself from saying something that would express his pleasure; Hornblower had used a neutral tonetoo obvious pushing of Buckland along the path of action might have a reverse effect and goad him into reversing his decision even now.
And although this decision had been reached there was another one, almost equally important, which had to be reached at once.
Who will be in command? asked Buckland. It could only be a rhetorical question; nobody except Buckland could possibly supply the answer, and to Bush and Hornblower this was obvious. They could only wait.
Itd be poor Roberts duty if he had lived, said Buckland, and then he turned to look at Bush.
Mr. Bush, you will take command.
Aye aye, sir.
Bush got up from his chair and stood with his head bowed uneasily under the deck timbers above.
Who do you want to take with you?
Hornblower had been on his feet during the whole interview; now he shifted his weight selfconsciously from one foot to the other.
Do you require me any more, sir? he said to Buckland.
Bush could not tell by looking at him what emotions were at work in him; he had the pose merely of a respectful, attentive officer. Bush thought about Smith, the remaining lieutenant in the shin. He thought about Whiting, the captain of marines, who would certainly have to take part in the landing. There were midshipmen and masters mates to be used as subordinate officers. He was going to be responsible for a risky and desperate operation of warnow it was his own credit, as well as Bucklands, that was at stake. Whom did he want at his side at this, one of the most important moments in his career? Another lieutenant, if he asked for one, would be second in command, might expect to have a voice in the decisions to be made.
Do we need Mr. Hornblower any more, Mr. Bush? asked Buckland.
Hornblower would be an active subordinate in command. A restless one, would be another way of expressing it. He would be apt to criticise, in thought at least. Bush did not think he cared to exercise command with Hornblower listening to his every order. This whole internal debate of Bushs did not take definite shape, with formal arguments pro and con; it was rather a conflict of prejudices and instincts, the result of years of experience, which Bush could never have expressed in words. He decided he needed neither Hornblower nor Smith at the moment before he looked again at Hornblowers face. Hornblower was trying to remain impassive; but Bush could see, with sympathetic insight, how desperately anxious he was to be invited to join in the expedition. Any officer would want to go, of course, would yearn to be given an opportunity to distinguish himself, but actuating Hornblower was some motive more urgent than this Hornblowers hands were at his sides, in the attention position, but Bush noticed how the long fingers tapped against his thighs, restrained themselves, and then tapped again uncontrollably. It was not cool judgment that finally brought Bush to his decision, but something quite otherwise. It might be called kindliness; it might be called affection. He had grown fond of this volatile, versatile young man, and he had no doubts now as to his physical courage.