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"Get Dr. Clive!" he snapped at one midshipman peering out from the midshipmen's berth; and then to another, "You, there. Run for the first lieutenant. Ask him to come below here. Run!"

Hornblower's glance took in Whiting and travelled forward to where the marines were snatching their muskets from the racks.

"Why are your men turning out, Captain Whiting?"

"Captain's orders."

"Then you can form them up. But I do not believe there is any emergency."

Only then did Hornblower's glance comprehend Bush.

"Oh, Mr. Bush. Will you take charge, sir, now that you're here? I've sent for the first lieutenant. The captain's hurt--badly hurt, I'm afraid, sir."

"But what's happened?" asked Bush.

"The captain's fallen down the hatchway, sir" said Hornblower.

In the dim light Hornblower's eyes stared straight into Bush's, but Bush could read no message in them. This after part of the lower gundeck was crowded now, and Hornblower's definite statement, the first that had been made, raised a buzz of excitement. It was the sort of undisciplined noise that most easily roused Bush's wrath, and, perhaps fortunately, it brought a natural reaction from him.