Lieutenant Hornblower. C. S. Forester

“Then you think we should bear up for Jamaica?” asked Buckland.

“I wouldn’t go as far as to advise it, sir,” replied Bush, cautiously.

The responsibility was Buckland’s, entirely Buckland’s, by the law of the navy, and Bush was a little irked at Buckland’s trying to share it.

“But what else can we do?” asked Buckland. “What do you suggest?”

Bush remembered the plan of campaign Hornblower had sketched out to him, but he did not put it instantly forward; he had not weighed it sufficiently in his mind — he did not even know if he thought it practicable. Instead he temporised.

“If we head for Jamaica it’ll be with our tail between our legs, sir,” he said.

“That s perfectly true,” agreed Buckland, with a helpless gesture. ‘There’s the captain ”

“Yes,” said Bush. “There’s the captain.”

If the Renown were to report to the admiral at Kingston with a resounding success to her record there might not be too diligent an inquiry into past events; but if she came limping in, defeated, battered, it would be far more likely that inquiry might be made into the reasons why her captain had been put under restraint, why Buckland had read the secret orders, why he had taken upon himself the responsibility of making the attack upon Samaná.

“It was young Hornblower who said the same thing to me,” complained Buckland pettishly. “I wish I’d never listened to him.”

“What did you ask him, sir?” asked Bush.

“Oh, I can’t say that I asked him anything,” replied Buckland, pettishly again. “We were yarning together on the quarterdeck one evening. It was his watch.”

“I remember, sir,” prompted Bush.

“We talked. The infernal little whippersnapper said just what you were saying — I don’t remember how it started. But then it was a question of going to Antigua. Hornblower said that it would be better if we had the chance to achieve something before we faced an inquiry about the captain. He said it was my opportunity. So it was, I suppose. My great chance. But with Hornblower talking you’d think I was going to be posted captain tomorrow. And now —”

Buckland’s gesture indicated how much chance he thought he had of ever being posted captain now.

Bush thought about the report Buckland would have to make: nine killed and twenty wounded; the Renown’s attack ignominiously beaten off; Samaná Bay as safe a refuge for privateers as ever. He was glad he was not Buckland, but at the same time he realised that there was grave danger of his being tarred with the same brush. He was first lieutenant now, he was one of the officers who had acquiesced, if nothing more, in the displacement of Sawyer from command, and it would take a victory to invest him with any virtue at all in the eyes of his superiors.

“Damn it,” said Buckland in pathetic self‑defence, “we did our best. Anyone could run aground in that channel. It wasn’t our fault that the helmsman was killed. Nothing could get up the bay under that crossfire.”

“Hornblower was suggesting a landing on the seaward side. In Scotchman’s Bay, sir.” Bush was speaking as cautiously as he could.

“Another of Hornblower’s suggestions?” said Buckland.

“I think that’s what he had in mind from the start, sirs A landing and a surprise attack.”

Probably it was because the attempt had failed, but Bush now could see the unreason of taking a wooden ship into a situation where red‑hot cannon balls could be fired into her.

“What do you think?”

“Well, sir —”

Bush was not sure enough about what he thought to be able to express himself with any clarity. But if they had failed once they might as well fail twice; as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb. Bush was a sturdy soul; it went against his grain to yield in face of difficulties, and he was irritated at the thought of a tame retreat after a single repulse. The difficulty was to devise an alternative plan of campaign. He tried to say all these things to Buckland, and was sufficiently carried away to be incautious.

“I see,” said Buckland. In the light of the swaying lamps the play of the shadows on his face accentuated the struggle in his expression. He came to a sudden decision. “Let’s hear what he has to say.”

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