Читать книгу Lieutenant Hornblower онлайн

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"What in hell----?" he began, as he saw Bush.

"Don't ask me!" said Bush, striving after that natural appearance. So tense and desperate was he at that moment that his normally quiescent imagination was hard at work. He could imagine the prosecutor in the deceptive calm of a court-martial saying to Whiting, "Did Mr. Bush appear to be his usual self?" and it was frightfully necessary that Whiting should be able to answer, "Yes." Bush could even imagine the hairy touch of a rope round his neck. But next moment there was no more need for him to simulate surprise or ignorance. His reactions were genuine.

"Pass the word for the doctor" came the cry. "Pass the word, there."

And here came Wellard, white-faced, hurrying.

"Pass the word for the doctor. Call Dr. Clive."

"Who's hurt, Wellard?" asked Bush.

"The c-captain, sir."

Wellard looked distraught and shaken, but now Hornblower made his appearance behind him. Hornblower was pale, too, and breathing hard, but he seemed to have command of himself. The glance which he threw round him in the dim light of the lanterns passed over Bush without apparent recognition.