‘The cabin is very well as it is. Perfectly adequate. All that is needed is another hanging bed, a simple cot, with the proper blankets and pillows. A water-carafe, and a tumbler.’
‘We can shift the bulkhead a good eighteen inches for’ard,’ said Jack. ‘By the bye, you will not object to the bees going ashore, just for a while?’
‘They did not go ashore for Mrs Miller. There were none of these tyrannical caprices for Mrs Miller, I believe. They are just growing used to their surroundings – they have started a queen-cell!’
‘Brother, I insist. I should send my bees ashore for you, upon my sacred honour. Now there is a great favour I must ask you. I believe I have told you how I dined with Lord Nelson?’
‘Not above two or three hundred times.’
‘And I dare say I described those elegant silver plates he has? They were made here.
Please would you go ashore and order me four, if it can be done with this?
If not, two. They must have a hawser-laid rope-border. You will remember that? The border, the rim, must be in the form of a hawser-laid rope. Mallet,’ he said, turning to a very elderly young man with lank sparse curls who stood bowing and undulating beside the first lieutenant, ‘Mr Simmons tell me you are a man of taste.’
‘Oh, sir,’ cried Mallet, bridling, ‘I protest he is too sweetly kind. But I had some slight pretensions in former days. I contributed my mite to the Pavilion, sir.’
‘Very good. Now I want some ornaments for the cabin, do you understand? A looking-glass, a vast great looking-glass. Curtains. Delicate little chairs. Perhaps a – what do you call the thing? – a pouffe. Everything suitable for a young lady.’
‘Yes, sir. I understand perfectly. In what style, sir? Chinoiserie, classical, directoire?’
‘In the best style, Mallet. And if you can pick up some pictures, so much the better.
Bonden will go with you, to see there are no purser’s tricks, no Raphaelos passed off for Rembrandts. He will carry the purse.’
The last days of Stephen’s stay in the Lively were tedious and wearing to the spirit. The cabin was scrubbed and scrubbed again; it reeked of paint, beeswax and turpentine, sailcloth; its two cots were slung in different positions several times a day, with stork flowers in match-tubs arranged about them; the whole was shut up, forbidden ground, except for a space where he had to lie in disagreeable proximity to Jack, who tossed and snorted through the night. And whereas the general atmosphere in the frigate grew more and more like that of the Polychrest on the verge of mutiny, with sullen looks and murmuring, her captain was in a wearisome flow of spirits, laughing, snapping his fingers, skipping heavily about the deck. The married officers looked at him with malignant satisfaction; the rest with disapproval.
Stephen walked up to Admiral Haddock’s house, where he sat with Sophie in the summerhouse overlooking the
Sound. ‘You will find him very much changed,’ he observed. ‘You might not think so at the present moment, but he has in fact lost much of his gaiety of heart. In comparison of what he was, he is sombre, and less inclined to make friends. I have noticed it particularly in this ship – distinctly more remote from his officers and the crew. Then again, he suffers frustration with more patience than he used; he cares less passionately about many things. Indeed, I should say that the boy has quite vanished now – certainly the piratical youth of my first acquaintance is no longer to be seen. But when a man puts on maturity and invulnerability, it seems that he necessarily becomes indifferent to many things that gave him joy. I do not, of course, refer to the pleasure of your company,’ he added, seeing her look of alarm. ‘Upon my word, Sophie, you are in prodigious fine looks today,’ he said, narrowing his eyes and peering at her. ‘Your hair – I dare say you have been brushing it?
No: what it comes to is this, that he is a better officer, and a duller man.’
‘Dull? Oh, Stephen.’
‘But his future worries me, I must confess. From what I understand there may be changes in Whitehall from one day to the next. His influence is small; and good, capable officer though he undoubtedly is, he may never get another ship. There are some hundreds of
post captains unemployed. I passed several of them on that sparse barren dismal grass-plat they call the Hoe, looking hungrily at the shipping in the Sound. This acting-command will soon be over, and then he will be on the shore. At present there are just eighty-three sea-going ships of the line in commission, a hundred and one frigates, and maybe a score of other post-ships. And Jack is 587th in a list of 639. It would have been simpler if he had remained a commander, or even a lieutenant: there are so many more opportunities for employment.’
‘But surely, General Aubrey being in Parliament must be a very good thing?’
‘Sure, if he could be induced to keep his mouth shut, it might be. But just now he is on his hind legs in the House, busily stamping Jack as a double-dyed Tory. And St Vincent and his friends, you know, are rabid Whigs -the general feeling of the service is whiggish to a degree.’
‘Oh dear. Oh dear. Perhaps he will take a splendid prize. He does deserve it so. The Admiral says the Lively is one of the best sailers that ever was; he is full of admiration for her.’
‘So she is. She runs along with a most surprising smooth velocity, a pleasure to behold, and her hands are most attentive to their duty. But, my dear, the day of splendid prizes is gone. At the beginning of the war there were French and Dutch Indiamen: there is not one left on the seas at present. And he would have to cut out a dozen Fanciullas to pay off his debts, so that he could set foot on shore without danger – by the bye, he is coming to see you on Sunday. How happy we shall be to be rid of him for a while – pray keep him as long as ever you can, or the men will break out in open rebellion. Not only are they compelled to scrub the ship below the water-line, but now they are required to comb the lambs.’
‘How very happy we shall be to see you both. Pray, are lambs a part of the ship? I have read the Marine Dictionary until the pages have begun to come out, to understand the actions; but I do not remember any lambs.’
‘They may well be. There are horses, fishes, cats, dogs and mice in their barbarous jargon; and bears; so I dare say there are lambs, rams, ewes, wethers and tegs. But these particular animals are for your nourishment: they are literally lambs. He has laid in stores that would be excessive for a pair of ogresses – a cask of petits-f ours (they will be damnably stale), four Stilton cheeses, a tub of scented soap, forsooth, handtowels – and now, I say, these lambs are required to be washed and combed twice a day. Keep him to dinner – let him sup with you – and perhaps we may have a little peace.’
‘What would he like to eat? A pudding, of. course; and perhaps souse. And what would you like, Stephen? Something with mushrooms in it, I know.’
‘Alas, I shall be a hundred miles away. I have one commission to perform for Captain Aubrey, and then I hoist myself into this evening’s coach. I do not expect to be gone for long. Here is my direction in London: I have written it on a card for you. Pray send me word how you liked your voyage.’
‘Shall you not be coming, Stephen?’ cried Sophia, clasping his arm. ‘What will happen to me?’
‘No, my dear. I cast you adrift. Sink or swim, Sophie; sink or swim. Where is my hat?
Come, give me a buss, and I must away.’
‘Jack,’ said he, walking into the cabin, ‘what are you at?’
‘I am trying to get this God-damned plant to stand upright. Do what I may, they keep wilting. I water them before breakfast and again in the last dog-watch, and still they wilt.
Upon my word, it is too bad.’
‘What do you water them with?’
‘The best water, straight from the scuttle-butt.’
‘If you anoint them with the vile decoction we drink and wash in, of course they wilt. You must send ashore for some rain-water; and at that rate of watering, some aquatic plants.’
‘What an admirable notion, Stephen. I shall do so at once. Thank you. But apart from these poxed vegetables, don’t you think it looks tolerably well? Comfortable? Homelike?