The next day – such a pretty day, with dew sparkling on the lawn – William Reade came over, with most encouraging news from the yard. Young Mr. Seppings was delighted that his father’s diagonal bracing had stood up so well; her bottom, inspected very closely in the slip at low tide, was as sound as a bell; and he would undertake to make her bows sounder than a whole chime of them in ten working days. But he must insist that no officer, no carpenter or carpenter’s mate, and no bosun or bosun’s mate should come aboard. He would undertake to find perfectly suitable food and lodging for all hands – in Pompey itself for the officers if need be – but he and his shipwrights must be left to work without advice, however kindly meant. And if Captain Aubrey agreed, he had but to send word by the fishmonger’s cart and they would start tomorrow.
There was no hunting or real shooting at this time of year, but there was cricket and there was fishing, and some very beautiful days they had at both, for Stephen, having at last grasped the principles of the complex game, turned his old skill at hurling to great account, striking the ball all round the field and running between the wickets like a man demented, shrieking to Padeen (his frequent partner) as he went.
Yet on an unlucky Friday a messenger came over from Portsmouth, where the semaphore had received a signal to the effect that Captain Aubrey’s presence was required in London forthwith. His officers, most of whom were now staying in the house, together with some of the midshipmen far from home and Jack’s half-brother Philip, sympathised with him very much indeed as he and Stephen left in a post-chaise, and assured him that they would do their very best to crush the village eleven in tomorrow’s match.
But this was not the war-time Admiralty: there were night-porters on duty, to be sure, and a junior officer was summoned to receive them: but he very much regretted that Sir Joseph was not expected until Monday, and most unfortunately he was gone into the country. The official could not absolutely assert it but he thought there was some question of very recent charts becoming available.
‘Well,’ said Jack, as they walked out, ‘in a world as unsteady on its feet as this, let us hope that Black’s will at least give us supper and a bed. Wilson,’ – this to the porter – ‘be a good fellow and hail us a coach, will you? And put our bags aboard.’
‘Where to, sir?’
‘Oh, Black’s, in St. James’s Street.’
Here indeed they were properly received: beds were promised, and they hurried upstairs to drink a glass of wine while their supper was preparing. Although the club was fairly empty, this being Friday, there were several people they knew, and it was some time before they were called away to their table.
‘Lord, that went down well,’ said Jack, gazing upon a rigorously empty plate: and to the waiter, ‘Charles, would you get me some toasted cheese? I know the Doctor will eat sherry-trifle, but I should like toasted cheese, done to the very point of perfection.’
‘Point of perfection it is, sir,’ said Charles.
Charles had not been gone three or four minutes and Jack was considering his decanter –
were two full glasses there? – when he became aware of a tall, bulky form in the candlelight: a man who had stopped just short of their table. Glancing up, he saw the Garter ribbon, recognised the Hanoverian face, and stood up; Stephen with him.
‘Captain Aubrey, good evening to you, sir. Doctor, good evening.’ Turning to Jack, he went on, ‘My name is Clarence, sir. You may not remember me, but I had the honour of meeting you just after your magnificent cutting-out of the Diane.’
‘I remember it perfectly, Your Highness.’
Prince William laughed in a rather confused manner as Charles edged round him with the trifle and the toasted cheese. ‘The odd thing is that I was thinking of you just this very afternoon – and now here you are! Ha, ha! Some little while ago an Admiralty friend told Dr. Maturin that I took an interest in a deceased shipmate’s boy. I do not know whether the Doctor has mentioned him to you? His name is Horatio …”
‘He could not have a better, sir,’ said Jack, looking rather sternly at his toasted cheese, rapidly losing its perfect crust.
‘Horatio Hanson: Hanson was lost in Serapis . . .’ Prince William went on at some length about that particular storm and his service with Nelson in the West Indies. Then recollecting himself he said, ‘But I am keeping you from your dinner – keeping you standing – a shocking thing to do to an officer of your distinction – forgive me. Would you do me the honour of taking coffee with me when you have finished? There is no sort of hurry.’
They said they should be very happy, and when he had gone the necessary three or four yards they sat down again. When Jack had picked at his ruined cheese for a while he drank the rest of his wine and said, ‘There is something very amiable in taking care of a former shipmate’s son.’
‘Certainly there is.’
‘You did not tell me he formed part of the Admiralty?’
‘Did I not?’
‘Well, it don’t greatly signify: I shall tell him just what I told you between Haslemere and Guildford – that I cannot take sucklings on such a voyage. Come to think of it,’ said Jack after a pause, ‘I have heard that he is very good to his old ratings in Greenwich. Shall we go?’
The Duke had taken a discreet place in the far corner, and although his voice was naturally loud, as became a sailor, the room could have had many more people in it without inconvenience. He was clearly nervous; and since with fat men anxiety is often turned into sweat, his large face glistened. ‘Roger, you whoreson bugger, where is that fucking coffee?’ he called to a waiter as they approached: then ‘Gentlemen,’ making a half motion as if to rise, ‘let me beg you to take some brandy. Pray sit down. Roger, you swab, the best old Nantz.’
The coffee arrived, the brandy immediately after, and there was an awkward pause. Jack, having sipped his coffee, broke it by saying, ‘Your Highness, Dr. Maturin did speak to me about Horatio and your wish that he should go to sea in the midshipmen’s berth of Surprise.’
‘Yes. I should like to give him the very best start, under a captain for whom I have the greatest respect – a right seaman.’
‘You are altogether too kind, sir. But as far as seamanship is concerned, I do not believe I could tell you anything about ship-handling.’ The Duke looked extremely pleased, and took a great draught of brandy. Jack went on, ‘But, sir, I told the Doctor just what I shall tell you now, if I may -plain frankness is best between sailors-‘
‘Hear him, hear him,’ said Clarence.
‘I told him that the contemplated voyage is long and of its nature perilous – fifty and even sixty degrees of south latitude, sir, apart from anything else – and that my midshipmen’s berth must necessarily be a hard berth. There are some youngsters aboard at present whom I shall send home, as too tender. A hard berth, with no favours. And of course I must have a good look at him first, to see whether we suit one another or not: there must be good feeling on both sides where a very long voyage is concerned. So since you, sir, who are a sailor, take so respectable an interest in this boy, and if what I have said does not disturb you, may I suggest that you should send him with a servant to the Grapes, an inn where Maturin and I often stay in the Liberties of the Savoy-‘
‘Why not here?’
‘Because, sir,’ said Jack, looking him full in the face, ‘this is a place frequented by public men – I dare say we have at least half the Opposition, or more, and several ministers -and I do not wish it to be supposed that I am in any way currying favour with the Court. With the utmost respect, Your Highness, I am not, most emphatically not doing so. If Horatio and I like one another, and if I think him fit to make the voyage and fit to be a sea-officer eventually, I shall take him. Otherwise I shall not.’
‘Well, sir, that is frankness indeed,’ said Clarence, looking from one to the other, somewhat taken aback. He wiped his nose with the back of his forefinger – a gesture familiar to Stephen – then after a short silence, he said, ‘And I thank you for it. When should you like to see the boy?’