|
CHAPTER 6
The captain of HMS
Laconia and his lady sat quietly in the captain's barge as
they were rowed to the waiting ship. Frederick was in his full-dress
uniform and Anne wore a light blue and white dress. Her bonnet
had the same ribbon that adorned the flat straw hats of the barge's
crew - Anne's idea, which pleased her husband no end. The men
wore rough but sparkling white shirts with duff trousers and
navy kerchiefs tied loosely around their necks. Frederick explained
that this crew had the only uniforms among the lower deck of
the Laconia and they only wore them for duty like this;
usually sailors wore whatever clothes they could acquire though
Officers and Marines had uniforms, of course.
Anne Wentworth could
not believe the difference a few weeks and a change of perspective
made on the Laconia. What had been ugly and disorderly
was now beautiful and pristine. The brass gleamed, the paint
was fresh, and the lines and masts were as straight as the edge
of a paper. White bundles, which Frederick assured his wife were
sails, were wrapped around the yards and masts more neatly than
any Christmas present. It also seemed far larger from the perspective
of a small rowboat. Glancing at her husband, Anne saw how proud
he was of his command; and for the first time Anne comprehended
his feelings.
"Starboard
side, sir?" asked Stokes hopefully.
"Yes,"
said Wentworth in a low voice.
A few minutes later
a shout came from the ship. "AHOY! WHAT BOAT IS THAT?"
Stokes cupped his
mouth. "LACONIA!"
Anne turned to Frederick.
"I thought the ship was the Laconia."
"It is dear
- but so am I. What Stokes means is that this boat carries the
Captain of the Laconia."
Within moments the
barge had pulled along side the ship. Anne looked up the wall
of oak as Stokes muttered to the boat's crew to "mind the
paint." Frederick stood up in the little vessel and seized
the accommodation ladder. Anne, forewarned, sat quietly waiting
for something called the "bo'sun's chair." With a grin
and wink for his lady, Frederick scampered up the side like a
boy half his age. Just before his head reached the deck, the
bo'sun's mate blew his whistle while another shouted, "LACONIA
REPORTING!" As Wentworth's foot touched the deck there was
a crash of musket butts against the planks as the Marines gave
their salute.
"Welcome aboard,
sir," said Lt. Price.
"Thankee, William."
"Pull easy
on that bo'sun's chair - not a drop, mind!" called Lt. Mumphrey.
Within moments, Mrs. Wentworth rose above the railing, sitting
in what she would call a large garden swing, such as she had
enjoyed at Kellynch. The bo'sun's mate and Mumphrey carefully
guided Anne to the deck and to her feet.
"There dear,
nothing to it," murmured Frederick to Anne as he took her
hand. Anne gave him a sunny smile in return. "Allow me to
formally introduce to you my officers. Lt. William Price you
know."
"Good to see
you again, ma'am," William smiled back as he took her hand.
"And you lieutenant,"
Anne replied.
"This is Mr.
Alexander Mumphrey, 2nd Lieutenant," Frederick continued.
"Charmed, Mrs.
Wentworth," Mumphrey gushed.
As Frederick named
his remaining lieutenant and all six midshipmen for his wife,
Eades whispered to Radle, "Well, I guess we'll be sayin'
Mass this Sunday for sure, mate…"
Radle grumbled as
Stokes hissed, "No talkin' in the ranks!"
Wentworth was finishing.
"Lieutenant Greengard, head of our Marine contingent. And
this is our surgeon, Dr. Powell."
"Mrs. Wentworth,
how pleasant it will be to have such a civilized presence on
board," bowed the doctor.
"Thank you,
Dr. Powell; I hope I shall be," Anne responded with a very
little twinkle in her eye. "I shall be most interested in
visiting your patients."
"I am sure
they will enjoy your fair presence, madam."
Both Anne and Frederick
frowned just a little, as the same thought occurred to them:
did the man intend to be so patronizing?
Lt. Price, who had
been watching the docks, came to his captain's side. "Sir,
there's a boat just shoved off heading our way. Might be that
last passenger."
Frederick expression
tightened as he remembered his conversation with Sir Joseph.
"Thank you, William. Mr. Mumphrey, you and Nowak escort
Mrs. Wentworth to my cabin. I shall join you later, my dear.
Mr. Price, dismiss the men."
Anne and her escorts
went below deck as the crew milled about waiting for the order
to set sail. Pyke stared at the lady for as long as he could.
Anne and her companions
descended one flight of stairs to the next deck. "Mr. Mumphrey,
was that a dog I saw on deck?"
"Yes ma'am
- 'tis Lt. Greengard's dog. Lucky's her name. She's ship mascot
and the devil on rats, she is."
"Oh; that is
good to know…" Rats?
"Mrs. Wentworth,
seeing as you have never been aboard before, might I be so bold
as to explain the ship to you?" asked Mumphrey.
"That would
be very kind, Mr. Mumphrey," replied Anne.
"Well, we just
left the top deck, which is where the quarterdeck is. This is
the gun deck, as you can see." Obviously this was the gun
deck: lining the sides of the ship were large cannons, pulled
tight against the walls. "Six and twenty 18-pounders, ma'am
- our main armament."
"Excuse me,
Mr. Mumphrey, but I was told this ship had thirty-six guns. Was
I misinformed?"
"Oh, bless
you, ma'am - we have thirty-six guns for sure. You must remember
the ten 12-pounders above."
"Oh, I see.
Pray what is it meant by '18-pounders'?"
"Why that's
the weight of metal it throws - pardon me…I mean the cannonball
it shoots weighs 18 pounds."
"And a 12-pounder
shoots a 12 pound ball?"
"Yes ma'am."
"Mr. Mumphrey,
does not a 18-pounder cause more damage to the enemy than a 12-pounder?"
"Oh, yes ma'am
- like night and day."
"Why the difference?
Why not have all 18-pounders?"
"Well, ma'am,
the upper deck wouldn't hold them - the gun itself weighs too
much. It wasn't too long ago we would've had 9-pounders up there.
A bit of bracing and she'll now carry the bigger guns. But we
can't brace enough to hold anything larger, because then we wouldn't
have the room to fight the guns on the gun deck. Besides, heavier
guns might make the ship a bit top-heavy."
"That sounds
like something that should be avoided."
"It's not good,
that's for certain. Oh, it wouldn't cause the barky to capsize,
mind, but she wouldn't be as fast, or as quick in the turns,
and that's almost as bad. Balance is everything to a sailing
ship, you see. I've seen the Captain spend two days together
moving cargo in the hold just to pick up a half-knot. If you
step this way, I will show you to your rooms."
The party made its
way to the stern of the ship. Before a door stood a Marine sentry.
"There's a sentry by the Captain's door night and day -
regulations," explained Mumphrey. They entered through the
door into a space about one-fifth the length of the gun deck.
There were several doors lining the walls and the room opened
up just before a back wall of windows, allowing the light of
the day to flood in.
"Beautiful,"
whispered Anne.
"Aye, isn't
it?' answered Mumphrey. "We call it the stern gallery. 'Tis
my favorite part of the ship - when the Captain invites us for
dinner I always hope I'm facing the gallery. This is where the
Captain does all of his paperwork - that's his desk there - and
where you will have all your meals." He walked over to a
door. "This is the door to one of the quarter-galleries.
This one is used by the Captain for observation. The other one
- on the other side, well…that's the privy…if you pardon
me saying so…"
Anne smiled. "That's
quite all right, Mr. Mumphrey. What is that under the sheet near
the window - I mean stern gallery?"
Mumphrey had a huge
grin. "Nowak, please show the lady."
The steward walked
over to the object and removed the cover. "A pianoforte?"
Anne gasped.
"Yes, ma'am,"
said Nowak. "Cap'n had it brought on yesterday - said it
were a surprise."
"I understand
that it belonged to Mrs. Croft, the Captain's sister," added
Mumphrey. "It's said that it has traveled around the world
with the Admiral and Mrs. Croft."
It looked like it.
It was not a full-sized pianoforte, and it was a bit weather-beaten
and faded, but the sight of it almost brought tears to Anne's
eyes. "It's beautiful…"
"There's some
music in that case, if you care to take a look…" said
the lieutenant.
Anne opened the
box. "Oh, my…Beethoven…Handel…Mozart…this
is wonderful!" She noticed the note in the box:
Dearest Anne:
I hope the enclosed gives you and Frederick as much enjoyment
as I have had listening to you play these pieces. Your loving
Godmother, R.
Anne had one hand
to her face as she read the note, trying to hold back her tears.
The two men were embarrassed to witness the private moment. Anne
replaced the note in the music box and turned to her companions.
"Forgive me, gentlemen; I am all attention."
Mumphrey coughed.
"That's quite all right, ma'am. Umm…right - this door
leads to your sleeping quarters…"
Anne peeked thorough
the opened door. She saw a small space, wider than it was deep,
with her chests along one wall. Against the other were a chair
and a low bench. There was nothing else in the room. "Mr.
Mumphrey, I don't understand…you said this was my bedroom?"
"Yes ma'am."
"I suppose
the bed hasn't been delivered yet, then."
"Bed?"
He looked in. "Oh… Nowak, rig the cot. Mrs. Wentworth,
may I call your attention to those hooks in the overhead deck
beams?"
Anne looked up.
"Do you refer to those hooks in the ceiling?" At his
nod, Anne looked more closely. She saw three pairs of iron hooks,
one pair larger than its fellows, about 6 to 7 feet apart. The
hooks had about two feet between them on the side. She watched
as Nowak hung a type of hanging cot from the larger center pair.
The cot was about six feet long and three feet wide. It had a
thin mattress within. It had short canvas walls held up by slim
wooden stays. The entire contraption was suspended from the hooks
by stout ropes.
"You'll find
the cots to offer the best sleep possible," Mumphrey was
saying. "I never sleep well on land anymore - I miss my
cot."
"I'm sure,
Mr. Mumphrey," Anne managed. All she noticed was that the
cot could not possibly hold two people.
"Sorry, Miz
Wentworth; I hung it from the wrong hooks," Nowak said.
"Have to use the outside hooks to rig two of 'em in here…don't
know why there's three pair…carpenter must have got it wrong…"
Anne hardly heard
what was said - she was too busy holding back tears. Since the
wedding, the only time Frederick had not shared her bed was during
his brief trip to London. She found she liked his presence close
by; liked it exceedingly. Sophy mentioned that she and the Admiral
had shared a double bed on their voyages, and Anne expected the
same. Apparently, Frederick felt otherwise. I must not be
missish; I am sure Frederick has very good reasons. He is the
captain - I am sure he must keep up appearances before the crew.
I am sharing his bedroom, if not his bed. But we are to be some
time at sea - months. Are we not to enjoy each other? She bit
her lip. I will not cry - I will not be a source of embarrassment
to Frederick. At least I shall be near him. I will see him every
day. I shall be a good wife and companion.
"Mrs. Wentworth?
Should you like some privacy?" asked Mumphrey.
"No, Mr. Mumphrey,
I am quite at leisure. I like my accommodations very well. Shall
we see the rest of the ship?"
The long boat approached
from the larboard side, as pre-arranged. There was never any
ceremony when one boarded from the larboard side. As the boat
touched, a bo'sun's chair was lowered swiftly to it. A minute
later it returned bearing a passenger. As crew members began
transferring the baggage, Price escorted the man to Frederick.
The gentleman was
shorter than either the captain or Price, and with his sagging
shoulders he seemed even smaller than he was. He moved like a
man old before his time and looked as if he had eaten ill for
several days. His blue coat was a bit thread-worn and could use
a good brushing, and his breeches were stained with what appeared
to be dried blood. His shirt needed laundering and his face needed
shaving. Colored spectacles hid his eyes, but his skin had a
sickly pallor. On top of his head he wore a small wiry gray wig.
He looked up at
Frederick. "Captain Wentworth?" he croaked. "I
am Stephen Maturin. I thank you for your kindness, sir"
"Not at all,
Doctor. Please accept my deepest condolences for your loss."
The doctor nodded. "Mr. Price, please see Dr. Maturin to
my cabin. Sir, I shall join you in a few minutes. Stokes - make
sure the Doctor's dunnage is placed in his cabin."
As Price helped
the gentleman down the gangway, Stokes leaned in. "That's
Dr. Maturin, ain't it sir?"
"Do you know
him, Stokes?"
"Yes sir -
we were shipmates aboard the Worcester back in the Year
__. I remember him well. I recall watching him practice his fencing
- you wouldn't think he would be good, would you? I tell you
sir, he's as good with a sword as his is with his saw - and nobody
could take off a limb as quick as Dr. Maturin, bless 'im."
"Thank you,
Stokes." Stokes gave him his salute and carried the doctor's
large carpetbag below deck. As he left, Frederick was reminded
of his only previous encounter with Dr. Maturin. It was several
years ago, when Jack Aubrey had invited him to go shooting at
his estate at Woolcombe. He recalled the short, ill-dressed physician
out shot his betters, never wasting powder and always hitting
what he aimed at. Frederick had been astonished and had looked
forward to furthering his acquaintance with the man, but Dr.
Maturin had left immediately after the hunt to attend a natural
science conference in Town.
A few minutes later,
Price returned from his errand. "Mr. Price, you have the
quarterdeck. Prepare to set sail at the turn of the tide."
"This is the
mess deck, Mrs. Wentworth - this is where the crew eats and sleeps,
and most of the officers, too."
Anne looked at the
hundreds of hooks that dotted the ceiling - no, overhead deck
beams - above her head. "They appear rather close together,
Mr. Mumphrey."
"Well, begging
the lady's pardon, but they are neither close together nor far
apart - they are set at fourteen inches apart exactly, as per
Admiralty regulations."
"And this is
where the crew hangs their cots?" Anne shuddered, suddenly
thankful for the eight and forty inches afforded Frederick, and
her.
"Yes ma'am,
but as one watch is sleeping at any time, we try to use every
other pair - that gives 'em twenty-eight inches. And, excuse
me, but the crew use hammocks, not cots. Take up less room and
are easier to store."
"I have heard
that term before, lieutenant. Pray what is it you mean by 'watches'?"
Mumphrey scratched
his head. "Well, ma'am, you see we need to sail the ship
twenty-four hours a day - no stopping for the night. So we divide
the crew into two watches - starboard and larboard, not counting
the idlers."
"Idlers, sir?"
"Men who work
primarily during the day, cooks, swabers, sailmakers and the
like, men who can only work during the day. The rest actually
sail the ship - man the sails and bracing. They're your topmen,
afterguard, waisters and forecastle men. Most of 'em are right
seamen; that is, men who have experience. They'd have to - sailing
the ship sharply is an exact thing, especially in a force five
gale. What landsmen - inexperienced men - that are part of the
watch serve in the afterguard."
"I see. Please
continue, sir."
"Well, we divide
the crew into two watches, and one watch is on duty at all times.
But since men must sleep, we vary the watches. Starting at midnight
is the Middle Watch - for 'middle of the night', ha, ha. Say
the larboard watch has the duty. The starboard watch puts up
their hammocks and the larboard watch comes up on deck. Each
watch is four hours, or eight bells. We have a thirty-minute
sandglass that keeps time. At eight bells (four in the morning)
it becomes the Morning watch, and the larboards and starboards
exchange places. The idlers get up at two bells (5:00). At seven
bells (7:30) its 'down hammocks' for everyone and we muster for
the Forenoon Watch. Breakfast is served, and then the larboards
are back on duty while the starboards drill."
"Drill, Mr.
Mumphrey?"
"Well, any
duty not directly involved with sailing the ship, usually repairs.
There's always something that needs mending, Mrs. Wentworth.
At eight bells the officers take their sightings with their sextants
and when the Captain is satisfied, he calls 'Make it noon,' as
so it goes into the book and begins the Afternoon Watch. Dinner
is served and the starboards take the watch again. At 4:00 begins
the Dog Watches."
Anne giggled. "'Dog
Watches'? Oh, Mr. Mumphrey, I believe you are sporting with me!"
Mumphrey paled.
"Oh no ma'am!" he cried. "That's what they're
called! Two two-hour watches in the late afternoon."
"But what an
unusual name. Why Dog Watches, pray tell?"
"Uhh…I
don't rightly know where the name came from, ma'am. The purpose
of the Dogs are to assure that the burden of manning two watches
in the night are shared. One night the watch will get four hours
sleep; the other almost eight, divided. Allow me to continue.
Supper is served during the Dogs and those not on duty have leisure
time. By the time the First Watch begins, about 8 in the evening,
the larboards are on duty and the starboards and Idlers go to
their hammocks. At midnight the Middle watch begins again and
the larboards get their four hours of sleep."
"My goodness.
And this is the routine day after day?" Anne asked.
"Aye, ma'am,
unless its foul weather - then it's all hands on deck. And, of
course, action stations, when we beat to quarters and clear for
battle."
"Yes, I see.
And back here - whose rooms are these?" Anne looked towards
the stern of the ship.
"That's the
wardroom and cabins for we junior officers; our quarter-galleries
too. The midshipman's berth and bread room is there as well.
Forward," Mumphrey turned around, "is the Sick Bay."
"Where are
the quarter-galleries for the men?"
Mumphrey turned
bright red. "Uh…"
Nowak saved him.
"The men don't have no quarter-gallery, ma'am - they go
to the heads."
Anne asked innocently,
"Heads?"
The two men looked
at each other. Mumphrey cleared his throat. "Umm…well…at
the bows, there are…uhh…seats of comfort…"
"I see,"
An embarrassed Anne quickly changed the subject. "Is there
anything below?"
"The orlop
deck - that's where the magazines, cable tier, cockpit and hold
are."
Nowak added, "That
will be your place when we beat to quarters, ma'am."
Anne placed her
hand on one of the cabin walls. "Mr. Mumphrey, what are
these walls made of?"
"Canvas, ma'am."
Anne thought about
that. "Are all the walls onall the cabins made of
canvas, Mr. Mumphrey?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Anne fought hard
to hide her surprise. I knew privacy was limited on a warship,
but really… "Why, sir?"
"Mainly weight,
ma'am; that and it's easier when we have to strike the Captain's
cabin when we clear for action."
"'Strike the…'
Mr. Mumphrey, do you mean you take down the walls of the
Captain's cabin when you prepare to go into battle?"
"Yes ma'am
- all the way down into the hold; even when we exercise the great
guns."
"I see."
No wonder all of the furniture in Frederick's cabin was lightweight.
I see there is much Sophy left out. "Well, gentlemen,
if there are no more wonders to see, I would like to return to
my cabin now." Before you strike it.
Frederick entered
his cabin and found Dr. Maturin sitting in a chair opposite his
desk. "Don't get up, sir - please stay seated. I hope your
trip here was not too unpleasant?" he asked as he sat down
behind the desk.
"I have no
complaints, sir."
Frederick looked
at the man. "Doctor, I must tell you that Sir Joseph was
very…complete with the information he relayed to me regarding
yourself. I will, of course, keep that conversation confidential.
For your comfort and your…privacy, I have had a cabin constructed
adjacent to mine, just outside these doors. You shall not have
to endure the closeness of the wardroom. My guard is your guard;
you are free to use my quarter-gallery, and you shall eat from
my table. Is this acceptable to you, sir?"
Stephen blinked.
"Faith, you are exceedingly kind. It is not necessary…"
"Nevertheless,
it is done."
Stephen, for the
first time, peered closely at the officer opposite. "Have
we met before, Captain?"
"Yes; a shooting
party at Woolcombe. I must say I was impressed with your skill,
Doctor."
Stephen colored
a bit. "It was nothing - beginner's luck, I think it is
called."
Frederick did not
like being lied to - Beginner's luck, indeed - the man's an
expert! - and almost said so, when there was a knock on the
door. "Yes, what is it?"
Nowak entered. "Beggin'
your pardon, sir, and Miz Wentworth and the carpenter are here
to see you."
"Oh - just
a moment, Nowak. Doctor, may I introduce my wife to you?"
"I should like
it of all things," he said dispassionately.
"Nowak, show
Mrs. Wentworth in. Tell the carpenter that I shall just be a
moment." A moment later Anne entered the room. "My
dear, this is our other passenger, Dr. Maturin. Doctor, my wife,
Mrs. Wentworth."
"It is a pleasure,
ma'am,"
"Doctor, my
husband has told me of your recent tragedy. Please know our thoughts
and prayers are with you and your family at this time. I understand
you have a daughter?" Stephen bowed. "Having lost my
own excellent mother at a young age, I certainly feel for her.
She is in good, loving hands, I trust?"
"She is residing
with her cousin Mrs. Aubrey, a most attentive and affectionate
guardian. She shall weather this storm, with the blessing."
"I am glad.
Will you be able to sup with us tonight?"
Stephen sighed.
"For my part I thank you for your kind invitation, but I
am very poor company."
Anne reached over
and touched his arm. "Say no more, Doctor. A plate shall
be drawn from our table and sent to your room. What do you like
for breakfast?"
Stephen shook his
head at the open goodness of his hosts. "A…a bit of
bacon…an egg…coffee, black… But please do not
trouble yourselves."
Frederick said gravely,
"It would be our privilege, sir. I believe we have kept
you too long - surely you wish to retire to your room."
"I must admit
to a certain weariness, sure."
"Oh, then you
must rest, Doctor!" cried Anne. "Mr. Nowak! Please
show Dr. Maturin to his cabin."
"Then I must
thank you again for all the kindness you have shown me,"
he said, this time with some feeling. He then followed the steward
out of the cabin.
Anne watched him
go. "Poor Dr. Maturin."
"Yes - he has
undergone the most terrible misfortune."
"Well, we shall
show him every courtesy."
Frederick turned
to his wife affectionately. "Of course, my love. And where
had you gotten off to, by the way?"
"Mr. Mumphrey
was kind enough to give me a tour of the ship."
"Ah, a most
obliging gentleman."
"I found him
so."
"That is well
- I expect that my officers to be extremely courteous and helpful.
However, you must not keep them from their duties."
Anne looked up at
her husband. "Frederick that was not my intention…"
"I am sure
you did not…" Frederick's attention suddenly changed.
"The carpenter! Oh, pardon me, Anne." He strode to
the door. "Come in, come in! I do beg your pardon…right
this way…" He, the carpenter and the carpenter's mate,
the last two carrying bundles, walked into the sleeping quarters.
Frederick stood at the doorway watching whatever they were doing.
Anne's curiosity with the activity drove her recent conversation
with her husband out of her head. She heard him say, "Yes…capital!
That is exactly what I wanted. Very good, indeed!"
The two men exited
the sleeping quarters. "You have done very good work. Nowak!
Pass the word that these two shall get an extra ration of beer
tonight!"
"Very good,
sir," answered Nowak and the three men left the cabin.
Frederick looked
at Anne with an expectant look in his eye. "Anne, would
you please come and see?" Anne walked over and peered into
the room. "I had the carpenter make it especially. I gave
him an idea about what I wanted, but the design is solely his."
Anne barely registered
what Frederick was saying. Her attention was riveted on the object
within. Hanging from the large center pair of hooks was a frame
of wood and rope. Attached at the four corners were four ropes
extended down to an extra large reinforced cot, one approximately
six feet by four-and-a-half.
"The cords
attach to the bed frame at the corners, see? To rig it up, one
simply hangs the frame from the hooks and then the cot to the
frame. One man can do it. In the daytime it can be cleared away
so that you may use the space for…reading, resting, whatever
you desire."
Anne stared at the
bed - a bed for two.
"In…in
very rough weathers we may need to use separate cots - for safety
and comfort. But otherwise… Anne, do you approve?"
Frederick asked hopefully.
Anne's answer was
to throw herself into her husband's arms with a squeal of joy.
Frederick strode
up to the quarterdeck. "Mr. Price, we will make sail, if
you please. Tops'ls and courses."
"Very good,
sir." William answered. "Mr. Stokes! All hands to weigh
anchor and make sail!"
"Aye aye, sir!"
Stokes raised his bo'sun's whistle and blew a series of notes.
At once the ship became alive as men rushed to their positions.
The topmen dashed up the rigging to the sails as others began
working the capstan on the forecastle. The anchor cable became
taut then, with a groan, began moving ponderously up and through
the deck.
Anne sat upon a
bench built into the stern railing, watching the exercise. Once
it was apparent (to the crew) that the anchor was free of the
bottom, the call went out and the topsails were unfurled. The
ship began moving slowly out to sea. Within minutes the forecastle
men were able to fish the anchor and secure it to the cathead.
The capstan bars were stowed as the main sails were dropped and
the Laconia picked up speed. The quartermaster at the
ship's wheel kept his eye on the channel makers as Wentworth
stood impassively upwind of the wheel. Anne noticed that Frederick
had not uttered a word since his short order to Lt. Price. She
was impressed - Just a word from him and 250 men spring into
action! It is amazing!
"Anchor raised
and stowed - mainsails and topsails set, sir," reported
Lt. Price.
"Very good,
Mr. Price. Not as sharp as I would like, but not bad for the
beginning of a voyage," replied Frederick. "Once we
make the marker, set your course south by southeast."
"Yes, sir…"
William stopped then turned back to his captain. "South
by southeast, sir?"
Frederick stared
straight ahead past his lieutenant. "That is your course,
Mr. Price."
Price knew better
than to question orders. "Aye aye sir." He turned to
the sailing master and the quartermaster at the wheel. "South
by southeast once past the marker."
"Mr. Price,"
said Wentworth. "If would you be so kind as to inform the
master and all officers not on duty to join me in my cabin? Mr.
Mumphrey, you have the deck."
"Madeira, sir?"
asked Price.
Wentworth sat at
his desk, looking at his officers. "Yes - we are to transport
Dr. Maturin to Funchal so that he may rejoin his squadron and
thence we continue to Bermuda. Any questions? Mr. Price, how
are we for stores?"
"There should
be no problem, as long as we don't run into the doldrums."
Inwardly, William thought, This is a fine thing to spring
upon us after we have set sail! We should have taken aboard more
water and provisions. Why the secrecy - does he not trust us?
"Any plans to replenish at Funchal?"
"Not if we
can help it, William." Frederick hoped that the use of Price's
Christian name would repair any damage that he was sure had been
inflicted. "We will be behind our time as it is."
It served. "We'll
make do, sir."
"Good. Any
other questions? No? Well, gentlemen, let us return to our duties,"
Wentworth dismissed the men.
"Sir,"
Nowak peered in as the officers filed out. "Colonel Tarleton
is wishin' to speak to you."
Frederick sighed.
"Show him in, Nowak."
Lt. Colonel Tarleton,
Royal Marines, walked in with a determined stride. "Captain
Wentworth, I must protest…"
Frederick held up
his hand. "Colonel, please… Nowak, thank you."
After the door closed, Wentworth turned his eyes back to his
guest. The red-haired Tarleton was not very tall, not quite five
foot four, but his arrogance was disproportionate to his height.
"Now, what can I do for you, sir?"
"What is this
I hear of another passenger on board - some sort of medical person?"
Frederick narrowed
his eyes. "What of it?"
"I understand
he has his own special cabin on this deck. It this true?"
"What business
is this of yours?"
"Then it is
true! Sir, I marvel at it! Some civilian of no note is given
all consideration, while I, the second-ranked officer on board,
am regulated to a small closet on the mess deck! It is not to
be borne!"
Frederick's face
was made of stone. "And what is your solution?" he
asked in a dangerous voice.
Tarleton sputtered.
"Why, it should be obvious! Rank is rank, sir!"
"Yes it is."
Wentworth looked at the man for a moment. "Get out of my
cabin, sir, before I lose my temper."
"Captain Wentworth,
I must protest - do you know who I am?"
Wentworth flew to
his feet and slammed his hand upon his desk, sounding for all
the world like a pistol shot. "Do you forget who I
am, sir? I am captain aboard this ship - and NO ONE speaks
to me in that manner!" Frederick took a breath, then in
a lower tone, though no less threatening, "Yes, I know who
you are - grand-nephew of a man who helped us lose the Colonies.
Your uncle did good work there, I have no doubt - especially
at Cowpens." He spoke of General Sir Banastre Tarleton,
"Bloody Ben" as he was known in America, who had been
head of the pro-slavery movement when he had been in Parliament.
"But it would make no difference if you were the bastard
son of the Prince Regent - you are a guest aboard this ship;
you have no authority; and I am your superior officer. I do not
explain myself to subordinates. One more word out of you,
sir, and I shall return Mr. Price's cabin to its owner and you
shall bunk in with the midshipmen. That would make your voyage
to Bermuda most interesting, I can assure you." As was the
custom, Tarleton was given the First Lieutenant's cabin, which
caused all sort of shuffling around below decks. "Have I
made myself clear, Lieutenant Colonel?"
Tarleton's face
was bright red with anger, but he knew he was stymied. "Yes
sir."
"You are dismissed."
As the Lt. Colonel turned towards the door, Frederick added,
"Oh, by the way, Mr. Price's actual rank, according to the
Admiralty, is Commander - he is serving as my First Lieutenant
while aboard this ship. I believe that makes his rank equal to
yours. I thought you might want to know - we wouldn't want any
misunderstandings in the wardroom, now would we?"
Tarleton stopped
and half-turned to Wentworth. After a moment he murmured, "No,
sir," and left the cabin.
Wentworth sat down
at his desk feeling very ill-used. First my officers are disappointed
in me, and then this fool starts chewing on my arse. And, on
top of that, my wife is endangered. Damn the Admiralty! Damn
Sir Joseph! Damn Dr. Maturin!
Stephen Maturin
lay in his hanging cot, a letter in his hand, fighting the thought
that kept threatening to overthrow his mind:
Diana…!
Immediately, Stephen
began to reflect upon events in France, the latest paper published
by the Royal Academy, the sinews of his very hand - anything
to take him away from thinking again about his loss. Stephen
was a thoughtful man, when it came to matters that did not prove
to be personally painful to him. Those thoughts he would struggle
to banish. In earlier days, he would turn to laudanum or coco
leaves to escape his demons. Now, freed from their ill-effects,
Stephen battled alone with no comfort from man or substance.
His melancholy was but another of his many masks. His ability
to submerge his feelings was necessary in his secret profession.
Diana Villiers Maturin,
dark and incredibly lovely, had been Stephen's one desire for
most of his life. He knew that he, drab and colorless, was as
nothing compared to her - yet there seemed to be affection for
him on her part. He had risked life and limb for her - killed
one man and almost fought Jack Aubrey for her. Yet for years
she had been frustratingly out of reach. Finally, after Diana
had pledged her great treasure, her Blue Peter diamond, to free
Jack and himself from French custody, she and Stephen had reached
an understanding and married.
Theirs was not a
conventional marriage, even by naval standards. While Stephen
was by her side, she poured all her attentions upon him. But
away - she was a wretched correspondent and, as Brigid's birth
proved, a detached mother. He could not vouch for her faithfulness
- Colonel Cholmondeley, who was with her when she died, was but
the latest in a line of men rumored to have been involved with
her during his travels. He knew she had held unconventional views
upon monogamy; she had been almost male in her thinking.
Her love, besides
living in grand style, had been her horses. She had gone nowhere
except that her hand was upon the reins. She had been driving
the carriage, with Cholmondeley beside her on the box and Mrs.
Williams (Jack's mother-in-law) within, when she had overturned
the whole shooting-match at Maiden Oscott Bridge in Dorset. The
only good fortune to come out of the tragedy was that Brigid
and his man Padeen had not been with them that day.
Stephen could only
thank the Blessed Mother that Brigid did not suffer too much,
and that Sophie Aubrey and Mrs. Clarissa Oakes were there to
take care of her. For he had a mission - to do whatever he could
to stop forever the danger that Napoleon Bonaparte represented.
It was perhaps that fire that kept Stephen alive - it certainly
was not food, which he had barely touched for at least a fortnight.
He turned again
to the letter he held in his hand. His friend and fellow naturalist,
Christine Wood, had lost her husband, Governor Wood of Sierra
Leone. He had not yet written her, for what could he say that
would not bring up his own loss?
Diana…!
Anne and Frederick
shared a light supper, after which she played a little on the
pianoforte. The music and being back at sea soothed Frederick's
earlier rage. He lost himself in the agreeable situation of having
his wife with him on board. Giving her a kiss on the cheek, he
excused himself to take one last walk on the quarterdeck, as
was his custom.
Above desks, Frederick
breathed deeply the salt air and wind that came out of the northeast.
Checking the course laid in by the sailing master, he allowed
himself to simply enjoy the sensation of sailing by moonlight
on a gently rolling sea. After a while he noted a midshipman
near the helm.
"Mr. Dawsey,
is it? Do you have this watch?"
The young man jumped.
"Yes, sir."
Frederick chuckled.
He remembered when he was a nervous midshipman questioned by
his captain. "A fine night, eh Mr. Dawsey?"
Dawsey stammered,
"O…oh, yes sir, a very fine night."
"You've been
in the service, what - five years?"
"Five years
July, sir."
"Yes, that's
right. I've been keeping up with your reports, and those from
your former ships. One more year - you'll be taking your lieutenant's
examination."
Dawsey blushed.
"I hope to when we return to England, sir."
"Excellent.
Well, you have the deck, Mr. Dawsey." Taking the farewell
from the young gentleman, Frederick went down into the waist
of the ship and walked towards the stern. Returning the salute
of the guard, he entered his cabin. He removed his hat and coat
and loosened his neckcloth. He did not see Anne in the great
cabin, so he sat, removed his shoes and walked over to the sleeping
quarters.
Opening the door,
he received a great surprise. The frame to the rig was still
attached to the overhead hooks, but the bed was not. Instead
it was in the middle of the floor of the bedroom, and upon it
was Anne, in her nightgown, brushing her hair.
Before he could
say a word, Anne looked up at him sweetly. "Close the door,
my dear, and come inside," she said softy. "This contraption
is very clever and I am sure I shall love sleeping in it - but
I have other activities in mind and I do not wish to be an acrobat."
Frederick could
do nothing but agree as Anne reached for him.
|
