“The road was bad, judging by the way the coach lurched; Hornblower heard a sharp intake of breath from Bush at one jerk. He remembered what the swollen and inflamed stump of Bush’s leg looked like; every jar must be causing him agony. He moved up the seat to the stretcher and caught Bush’s hand.
“Don’t you worry yourself, sir,” said Bush. “I’m all right.”
Even while he spoke Hornblower felt him grip tighter as another jolt caught him unexpectedly.
“I’m sorry, Bush,” was all he could say; it was hard for the captain to speak at length to the lieutenant on such personal matters as his regret and unhappiness.
“We can’t help it, sir,” said Bush, forcing his peaked features into a smile.”—