Stephen returned to his window, watched the lithe young form of Thomas Pullings weave through the traffic, cross to the far side and hurry away with that easy, loose-limbed rolling gait of his kind towards the Point and his long night’s wait in an open boat far out in the Channel. ‘Devotion is a fine thing, a moving thing to see,’ he reflected.
‘But who is going to pay for that amiable young man’s zeal? What blows, oaths, moral violence, brutalities?’
The scene had changed: church-going was over, and the respectable part of the town had vanished behind doors, into an odour of mutton; now groups of sailors straggled up and down, walking wide, like countrymen in London, and among them small greasy tradesmen, routs, hucksters, and the thick local girls and women called brutes. A confused bellowing, something between merriment and a riot turning ugly, and the Impregnable’s liberty-men, in shore-going rig and a prize divided in their pockets, came staggering by with a troop of whores, a fiddler walking backwards in front of them and small boys skirmishing on every side, like sheepdogs. Some of the whores were old, some had torn dresses with yellow flesh beneath, all had dyed and frizzled hair, and all looked pinched with cold.
The warmth and happiness of young Pullings’ joy receded. ‘All ports I have seen are much the same,’ he reflected. ‘All the places where sailors congregate: I do not believe that this reflects their nature, however, but rather the nature of the land.’ He sank into a train of thought -man’s nature how defined? Where the constant factors of identity? What allows the statement ‘I am I’ from which he was aroused by the sight of Jack, walking along with the fine easy freedom of Sunday – no bowed head, no anxious looks over his shoulder.
There were many other people in the street, but two, some fifty yards behind Jack and keeping pace with him, caught Stephen’s eye:
burly fellows, of no obvious trade or calling, and there was something odd about them, some intentness, some want of casual staring about, that made him look harder, withdrawing from the window and fixing them until they came abreast of the George.
‘Jack,’ he said, ‘there are two men following you. Come over here and look out discreetly.
There they are, standing on the Port Admiral’s steps.’
‘Yes,’ said Jack. ‘I know the one with the broken nose. He tried to come aboard the other day – no go, however; I smoked him at once. I dare say he is putting the other on to my line, the pragmatical bastard. Oh, be damned to them,’ he said, hurrying to the fire.
‘Stephen, what do you say to a drink? I spent the whole morning in the foretop, starved with cold.’
‘A little brandy will answer the case, I think; a glass of right Nantes. Indeed, you look quite destroyed. Drink this up, and we will go straight to the dining-room. I have ordered a halibut with anchovy sauce, mutton, and a venison pasty – simple island fare.’
The worn lines eased out of Jack Aubrey’s face, a rosy glow replaced the unhealthy grey; he seemed to fill his uniform again. ‘How much better a man feels when he is mixed with halibut and leg of mutton and roebuck,’ he said, toying with a piece of Stilton cheese. ‘You are a much better host than I am, Stephen,’ he observed. ‘All the things I stood most in need of but hardly name. I remember a wretched dinner I invited you to in Mahon, the first we ever ate together, and they got it all wrong, being ignorant of Spanish, my sort of Spanish.’
‘It was a very good meal, a very welcome meal,’ said Stephen. ‘I remember it perfectly.
Shall we take our tea upstairs? I wish to hear about the Polychrest.’ The big room was an almost unbroken spread of blue, with here and there a Royal Marine, and conversation was little more private than signals on the open sea.
‘We shall make a go of her, once we get used to her ways, I make no doubt,’ said Jack.
‘She may be a little odd to look at, to the prejudiced eye; but she floats, and that is the essential, do you see? She floats; and as a floating battery – why, I have rarely seen the like! We only have to get her there, and then we have four and twenty thirty-two pounders to bring into play. Carronades, you may say; but thirty-two pounder carronades!
We can take on any French sloop afloat, for these are your genuine smashers
– we could tackle a thirty-six-gun frigate, if only we could get close enough.’
‘By this same argument of proximation you could also set about a three-decker, a first-rate, at six inches; or two, indeed, if you could wedge yourself between them and fire both sides. But believe me, my dear, it is a fallacious argument, God forbid. How far do these carronades of yours fling their vast prodigious missiles?’
‘Why, you must engage within pistol shot if you want to hit what you point them at; but at yard-arm to yard-arm, oh, how they smash through the oak!’
‘And what is your enemy doing with his long guns, while you labour to approach him? But I am not to teach you your own trade, however.’
‘Approach him . . . ‘said Jack. ‘There’s the rub. I must have hands to work the ship. We are thirty-two men short of our complement – no hope of another draft – and I dare say you will reject some of the cripples and Abraham-men the receiving-ship has sent us: sad thievish little creatures. Men I must have, and the glass is running out . . . tell me, did you bring Scriven with you?’
‘I did. I thought he might be found some small employment.’
‘He is an eminent hand at writing, is he not? Pamphlets and such? I have tried dashing off a poster – even three or four volunteers would be worth their weight in gold – but I have had no time, and anyhow it don’t seem to answer. Look.’ He brought some papers out of his pocket.
‘Well,’ said Stephen, reading. ‘No: perhaps it don’t.’ He rang the bell and bade the man ask Mr Scriven to walk up. ‘Mr Scriven,’ he said, ‘be so good as to look at these -you see the problem -. and to draft a sheet to the purpose. There is paper and ink on the table over there.’
Scriven withdrew to the window, reading, noting and
grunting to himself; and Jack, as he sat there, warm and comfortable by the fire, felt a delicious total relaxation creep over his person; it espoused the leather chair, sinking into its curves, no tension anywhere at all. He lost the thread of Stephen’s remarks, answering oh and ah at the pauses, or smiling and moving his head with ambiguous appreciation.
Sometimes his legs would give a violent twitch, jerking him out of this state of bliss; but each time he sank back, happier than before.
‘I said “You do move with the utmost caution, I am sure?” ‘said Stephen, now touching him on the knee.
‘Oh, certainly,’ said Jack, at once grasping the subject. ‘I have never set foot on shore except for Sunday, and every boat that comes alongside is examined. In any case, I am moving out to Spithead on tomorrow’s tide, which will prevent surprises. I have refused all Dockyard invitations, even the Commissioner himself. The only one I shall accept is Pullings’ feast, where there is no risk of any kind – a little place in Gosport by the landing-stage, quite out of the way. I cannot disappoint him: he is bringing his people and his sweetheart up from the country.’
‘Sir,’ said Mr Scriven, ‘may I show you my attempt?’
£5,000 a man! (or more)
WEALTH EASE DISTINCTION
YOUR LAST CHANCE OF A FORTUNE!
HMS Polychrest will shortly sail to scour the seas of ALL KING GEORGE’S enemies. She is desined to SAIL AGAINST WIND AND TIDE and she will Take, Sink and Destroy the Tyrant’s helpless man-of-war, without Mercy, sweeping the Ocean of his Trade. There is no time to be lost! Once the Polychrest has gone by there will be no more PRIZES, no
more fat French and cowardly Dutch merchantmen, loaded with Treasure, Jewels, Silks, Satins
and Costly Delicacies for the immoral and luxurious Usurper’s Court.
This Amazing New Vessel, built on Scientific Principles, is commanded by the renowned
‘CAPTAIN AUBREY!
whose brig Sophie, with a 28lb broadside, captured £100,000’s worth of enemy shipping last war. 28lb, and the Polychrest fires 384lb from either side! So what will she do, in this proportion? More than TWELVE TIMES as much! The Enemy must soon be Bankrupt –
the End is Nigh. Come and join the Fun before it is too late, and then set up your Carriage!