‘No, soul, never say that,’ said Jack wearily. ‘This explanation with Parker had to come: I had hoped to avoid it, but he did not catch my drift; and really I am just as glad to have had it out.’
‘Still and all, I think I will go ashore.’
‘And desert your patients?’
‘Sea-surgeons are ten a penny.’
‘And your friends?’
‘Why, upon my word, Jack, I think you would be better without me. I am not suited for a sea-life. You know far better than I, that discord among the officers is of no use to your ship; and I do not care to be a witness of this kind of brutality, or any party to it.’
‘Ours is a hard service, I admit. But you will find as much brutality by land.’
‘I am not a party to it by land.’
‘Yet you did not so much mind the flogging in the Sophie?’
‘No. The world in general, and even more your briny
world, accepts flogging. It is this perpetual arbitrary harassing, bullying, hitting, brow-beating, starting – these capricious torments, spreadeagling, gagging – this general atmosphere of oppression. I should have told you earlier. But it is a delicate subject, between you and me.’
‘I know. It is the devil . . . At the beginning of a commission a raw, ugly crew (and we have some precious hard bargains, you know) – has to be driven hard, and startled into prompt obedience; but this had gone too far. Parker and the bosun are not bad fellows – I did not give them a strong enough lead at the beginning – I was remiss. It will not be the same in the future.’
‘You must forgive me, my dear. Those men are dropsical with authority, permanently deranged, I must go.’
‘I say you shall not,’ said Jack, with a smile.
‘I say I shall.’
‘Do you know, my dear Stephen, that you may not come and go as you please?’ said Jack, leaning back in his chair and gazing at Stephen with placid triumph. ‘Do not you know that you are under martial law? That if you was to stir without my leave, I should be obliged to put an R against your name, have you taken up, brought back in irons and most severely punished? What do you say to a flogging through the feet, ha? You have no notion of the powers of a captain of a man-of-war. He is dropsical with authority, if you like.’
‘Must I not go ashore?’
‘No, of course you must not, and that’s the end to it. You must make your bed and lie on it.’ He paused, with a feeling that this was not quite the epigram that he had wished. ‘Now let me tell you of my interview with that scrub Harte. . .’
‘If, then, as I understand you, we are to spend some time in this place, you will have no objection to granting me some days’ leave of absence. Apart from all other considerations, I must get my dement and my compound
fracture of the femur ashore: the hospital at Dover is at an inconsiderable distance – a most eligible port.’
‘Certainly,’ cried Jack, ‘if you give me your word not to run, so that I have all the trouble of careering over the country after you with a posse – a posse navitatum. Certainly. Any time you like to name.’
‘And when I am there,’ said Stephen deliberately, ‘I shall ride over to Mapes.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘A gentleman to see Miss Williams,’ said the maid.
‘Who is it, Peggy?’ cried Cecilia.
‘I believe it is Dr Maturin, Miss.’
‘I will come at once,’ said Sophia, throwing her needlework into a corner and casting a distracted glance at the mirror.
‘It must be for me,’ said Cecilia. ‘Dr Maturin is my young man.’
‘Oh, Cissy, what stuff,’ said Sophia, hurrying downstairs.
‘You have one, no two already,’ whispered Cecilia, catching her in the corridor. ‘You can’t have three. Oh, it’s so unfair,’ she hissed, as the door closed and Sophia walked into the morning-room with a great air of composure.
‘How happy I am to see you,’ they said, both together, looking so pleased that a casual observer would have sworn they were lovers, or at least that there was a particular attachment between them.
‘Mama will be so disappointed to have missed you,’ said Sophia. ‘She has taken Frankie up to town, to have her teeth filed, poor pet.’
‘I hope Mrs Williams is well, and Miss Cecilia? How is Mrs Villiers?’
‘Diana is not here, but the others are very well, I thank you. How are you, and how is Captain Aubrey?’
‘Blooming, blooming, thank you, my dear. That is to say, I am blooming: poor Jack is a little under the weather, what with his new command, and a crew of left-handed hedgecreepers from half the gaols in the kingdom.’
‘Oh,’ cried Sophie, clasping her hands, ‘I am sure he works too hard. Do beg him not to work too hard, Dr
Maturin. He will listen to you – I sometimes think you are the only person he will listen to.
But surely the men must love him? I remember how the dear sailors at Melbury ran to do whatever he said, so cheerfully; and he was so good to them – never gruff or commanding, as some people are with their servants.’
‘I dare say they will come to love him presently, when they appreciate his virtues,’ said Stephen. ‘But for the moment we are all at sixes and sevens. However, we have four old Sophies aboard – his coxswain volunteered – and they are a great comfort.’
‘I can quite see they would follow him anywhere in the world,’ said Sophia. ‘Dear things, with their pigtails and buckled shoes. But tell me, is the Polychrest really so very – ?
Admiral Haddock says she can never swim, but he loves to make our flesh creep, which is very ill-natured in him. He says she has two main topsail yards, in such a sneering, contemptuous way. I have no patience with him. Not that he means it unkindly, of course; but surely it is very wrong to speak lightly of such important things, and to say she will certainly go to the bottom? It is not true, is it, Dr Maturin? And surely two main topsail yards are better than one?’
‘I am no sailor, as you know, my dear, but I should have thought so. She is an odd, pragmatical vessel, however, and she has this way of going backwards when they mean her to go forwards. Other ships find it entertaining, but it does not seem to please our officers or seamen. As for her not floating, you may set your mind at rest. We had a nine days’ blow that took us far out into the chops of the Channel, with an ugly, pounding sea that partially submerged us, shaking away spars, booms, ropes; and she survived that. I do not suppose Jack was off the deck more than three hours at a time – I remember seeing him lashed to the bitts, up to his middle in the water, bidding the helmsman ease her as the seas came in; and on catching sight of me said, “She’ll live yet.” So you may be quite easy.’
‘Oh dear, oh dear,’ said Sophia in a low voice. ‘At least, I do hope he eats well, to keep up his strength.’
‘No,’ said Stephen, with great satisfaction, ‘that he does not. I am glad to say he does not eat at all well. I used to tell him over and over again, when he had Louis Durand as his cook, that he was digging his grave with his teeth:
he ate far, far too much three times a day. Now he has no cook; now he makes do with our common fare; and he is much the better for it – has lost two stone at least. He is very poor now, as you know, and cannot afford to poison himself; to ruin his constitution: it is true that he cannot afford to poison any guests either, which grieves him. He no longer keeps a table. But you, my dear, how are you? It seems to me that you are more in need of attention than our honest tar.’ He had been watching her all this time, and although that unbelievable complexion was as lovely as ever, it was lovely in a lower tone, once the pinkness of surprise had faded; there was tiredness, sorrow, a want of light in her eyes; and something of the straight spring had gone. ‘Let me see your tongue, my dear,’ he said taking her wrist. ‘I love the smell of this house,’ he said, as he counted automatically.
‘Orris-root, I believe? There was orris-root everywhere in my childhood home – smelt it as soon as you opened the door. Yes, yes. Just as I thought. You are not eating enough.