“To a fortunate evening,” he said, raising his glass in his turn.
“A timely toast,” said Hornblower.
“You can afford to play?” asked Bush
“Naturally.”
“You can stand another run of bad luck?”
“I can afford to lose one rubber,” answered Hornblower.
“Oh.”
“But on the other hand if I win the first I can afford to lose the next two. And if I win the first and second I can afford to lose the next three. And so on.”
“Oh.”
That did not sound too hopeful; and Hornblower’s gleaming eyes looking at him from his wooden countenance were postively disturbing. Bush shifted uneasily in his seat and changed the conversation again.
“They’re putting the Hastings into commission again,” he said. “Had you heard?”
“Yes. Peacetime establishment — three lieutenants, and all three selected two months back.”
“I was afraid that was so.”
“But our chance will come,” said Hornblower. “Here’s to it.”
“D’you think Parry will bring Lambert to the Long Rooms?” asked Bush when he took the glass from his lips.
“I have no doubt about it,” said Hornblower.
Now he was restless again.
“I must be back there soon,” he said. “Parry might hurry Lambert through his dinner.”
“My guess is that he would,” said Bush, preparing to rise.
There’s no necessity for you to come back with me if you don’t care to,” said Hornblower. “You might find it wearisome to sit idle there.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for worlds,” said Bush.
Chapter XX
The Long Rooms were full with the evening crowd. At nearly every table in the outer room there were earnest parties playing serious games, while through the curtained door that opened into the inner room came a continuous murmur that indicated that play in there was exciting and noisy. But for Bush standing restlessly by the fire, occasionally exchanging absent‑minded remarks with the people who came and went, there was only one point of interest, and that was the candle‑lit table near the wall where Hornblower was playing in very exalted society. His companions were the two admirals and a colonel of infantry, the latter a bulky man with a face almost as red as his coat, whom Parry had brought with him along with Admiral Lambert. The flag lieutenant who had previously partnered Parry was now relegated to the role of onlooker, and stood beside Bush, and occasionally made incomprehensible remarks about the play. The Marquis had looked in more than once. Bush had observed his glance to rest upon the table with something of approval. No matter if there were others who wanted to play; no matter if the rules of the room gave any visitor the right to join a table at the conclusion of a rubber; a party that included two flag officers and a field officer could do as it pleased.
Hornblower had won the first rubber to Bush’s enormous relief, although actually he had not been able to follow the details of the play and the score well enough to know that such was the case until the cards were swept up and payments made. He saw Hornblower tuck away some money into that breast pocket.
“It would be pleasant,” said Admiral Parry, “if we could restore the old currency, would it not? If the country could dispense with these dirty notes and go back again to our good old golden guineas?”
“Indeed it would,” said the colonel.
“The longshore sharks,” said Lambert, “meet every ship that comes in from abroad. Twenty‑three and sixpence they offer for every guinea, so you can be sure they are worth more than that.”
Parry took something from his pocket and laid it on the table.
“Boney has restored the French currency, you see,” he said. “They call this a napoleon, now that he is First Consul for life. A twenty‑franc piece — a louis d’or, as we used to say.”
“Napoleon, First Consul,” said the colonel, looking at the coin with curiosity, and then he turned it over. “French Republic.”
“The ‘republic’ is mere hypocrisy, of course,” said Parry. “There never was a worse tyranny since the days of Nero.”
“We’ll show him up,” said Lambert.
“Amen to that,” said Parry, and then he put the coin away again. “But we are delaying the business of the evening. I fear that is my fault. Let us cut again. Ah, I partner you this time, colonel. Would you care to sit opposite me? I omitted to thank you, Mr Hornblower, for your excellent partnership.”