‘Now until I have the honour of writing more fully, after consultation with Dr. Jacob, I shall just append a provisional list of the juntas of which I have personal knowledge, encode the whole, and end, with the utmost gratitude, dear Sir Joseph,
Your humble, obedient, and most affectionate servant,
S. Maturin’
Before encoding the whole, however, S. Maturin looked at the two scraps of paper that had come with Blaine’s message: one addressed to him, the other to Jack. Unfolding his own he read, with infinite tenderness, ‘from two very close friends at Woolcombe, with their dearest love. Brigid and Christine’, but hearing someone at the door, he thrust it secretly into his bosom.
The sound at the door was of course Jacob: unlike many orthodox Masons he had no strong prejudice against these somewhat irregular republican lodges in Chile; but he did deplore their loquacity.
‘At least,’ he said, sitting down heavily and taking snuff, ‘I did learn that the younger O’Higgins, the one you were so friendly with in Peru, will be here tomorrow.’
‘Ambrosio? Yes, I did like him, and could wish to see him again. A deadly shot, and a not inconsiderable botanist. Would it be sensible to invite him, do you think?’
Jacob considered, took more snuff, and said, ‘It would be noticed, of course: particularly if we went to Antoine’s. But I do not think it would do any harm. Rather the reverse.’
‘Then I shall invite him. Never was a more permeable frontier. We have a reasonable number of agents there, I believe?’
‘Tolerable, tolerable … we could certainly do with more.’
‘See if you can find a couple of reasonably intelligent, reasonably truthful men with some nautical experience to keep an eye on the state of naval preparation in Callao. There are
rumours of unusual activity. Amos: forgive a personal question, I beg, but do you put crumbled coca-leaves into your snuff?’
‘No. I have more respect for the septum of my nose. I keep to mere tobacco. It is not so good, admittedly; but it revives me after the dreary meetings. And as you see,” -tapping it –
‘my septum is intact.’
‘Long may it remain so. For my part I prefer to chew, or swallow. In moderation, in moderation, of course. Should you like to cast an eye over my synthesis of your information on the juntas and their political colour?’
‘Certainly.’
‘And I shall encode my piece for Whitehall, and then, with the blessing, we can dine. The day after tomorrow, having seen young O’Higgins, I mean to go down to Valparaiso: Captain Aubrey should be back by then. Will you come?’
‘I had rather stay, if you do not mind. Two or three agents will be coming here from Lima.’
As Stephen rode down on a fine smooth-paced dapple-grey mare he turned a towering shoulder of rock and there was the ocean before him, an enormous, magnificent sea stretching to the horizon, and beyond the horizon, if his memory served, to China, Krim Tartary and the countries beyond: but here, close at hand – relatively close at hand – was the dear Surprise, unmistakable with her towering thirty-six-gun frigate’s mainmast, and accompanied, which was by no means unusual, by a prize, a moderate ship-rigged privateer, now with drooping ears and in her turn accompanied by three republican sloops.
These little vessels, though new to the game, knew enough about the ways of the prize-court to remove everything of value aboard, whether it was screwed down or not; and even from this distance they could be seen swarming over the side with their booty, like a body of ants.
* * *
At this early stage, when the foreigners – and nothing could have been more foreign in Chile than Jack Aubrey, fair-haired, red-faced, massive, his officers and most of the hands
– were looked upon as valued, welcome allies, it was a pleasure to walk about Valparaiso, with smiles, bows and cheerful cries – Merry Christmas! Good night! – on every hand, and when he had confided the mare to a stable that she obviously knew and liked, Stephen walked into the Capricorno with a mild satisfaction if not complacency, instantly succeeded by open astonishment as he recognised Dobson and his shipmates sitting at a punch-bowl, all delighted by his surprise. They made him sit down with a variety of delights. ‘I had no idea you would be so far north already,’ he said.
‘Oh, the Isaac Newton can be induced to go at an astonishing speed; and having a professional master and his mate, who knew her very well on the Lisbon run, we can even sail by night, you know.’
‘There is that amiable young man of the schooner, Mr. Reade,’ said another Fellow, interrupting his account of a dicotyledonous plant unknown to science. ‘Let us be mute, and see his amazement.’
The amazement reached their highest expectations, and they sat William Reade at the top of the table. ‘Tell me, sir,’ said Stephen’s neighbour in a low voice, nodding towards
William’s hook, ‘does the young gentleman ever feel the effects of electricity, of static electricity?’
‘I do not believe so, sir,’ said Stephen. ‘But then there is a considerable amount of insulation between the steel and his flesh, you know.’ A pause, and he went on, ‘I am wonderfully ignorant of the whole subject: is there yet a general theory of electricity –
electricity, what it is?’
‘Not that I know of. Its effects can be seen and measured, but apart from that and some pretty wild unsubstantiated statements I do not think we yet know the ABC. Though Lankester may – he has done a great deal of work recently with copper wire in coils. Mr.
Lankester …”
‘Well, Aubrey,’ cried Mr. Dobson, ‘welcome ashore. All we need now is Noah, Neptune, and a couple of tritons, ha, ha, ha,’ and he called for another bowl of punch.
Punch or no, they listened very attentively to Jack’s brief play-by-play account of boarding the privateer from the landward side while Surprise’s few mortars, briskly served, pooped up various lights into the seaward sky, varied with flashes and shattering bangs.
This really finished the day. After a somewhat rambling and hazy supper, three or four Fellows were led up to bed, and the rest sat under the starlit sky, sobering themselves with the iced juice of various fruits.
‘What was the damage aboard?’ asked Stephen as they walked back to the mare’s agreeable inn.
‘Extraordinarily little,’ said Jack. ‘Nothing that dear Poll could not deal with. Those fellows, those Chiloe privateers, knew nothing about action: they sailed their ship quite well, but as for fighting her . . . On the other hand, our young fellows really pleased me – our Chileans, I mean. They handled their craft quite well on the way over, and they boarded her like good ‘uns, cutlass in hand.”
‘Shall you ride back tomorrow? I have two men to see, and then I am away.’
‘I do not think so. Since I speak no Spanish, I am not much use in Santiago, now that I have done the civil thing, with your help, by all the proper authorities. No. Down here I can really accomplish something, according to our agreement with the Supreme Director: they have good yards, decent craft up to a hundred tons or so, and at this time of year the breezes are reasonably steady and kind; and above all the eager young men learn very quick. Harding and Whewell speak a little Spanish, so do a few of the petty officers and hands, but the great thing is that most of them grasp the idea from good will and example.
A rolling hitch is not all that simple, the first time: but I only had to show Pedro once, and he did it again and again, laughing with pleasure and asking my pardon for laughing.’ ‘I am heartily glad to hear what you say, my dear. We may have great need of young men that can tie a hitch . . . but as for laughter, open, audible laughter, I quite agree with your Pedro. There is something curiously offensive about it: above all when it is not truly amused, deeply amused. A parcel of excited young women screeching aloud and agitating their persons and limbs is enough to make one retire to a monastery. Our Fellows did not present a very elevating spectacle.’
‘I did notice some of the Spaniards looking rather grave, and I did regret the last bowl of punch. Yet on the other hand, ours is an eminently respectable society: the Proceedings are known all over the learned world, and the men of the Isaac Newton, however bibulous on occasion, carry recommendations to the government, foreign office and universities of
whatever country they visit. I do assure you, Stephen, that our connexion with them, with the Society as a whole in its most sober and learned mood, is a singular advantage to us.’