Stephen took out a soft pouch made of llama-skin. ‘These are the leaves of Erythroxylon coca, the cuca or coca shrub,’ he said. ‘I have used them for a great while, and so have most of the inhabitants of Peru. If you roll them into a moderate ball in your mouth, then add a little of this lime and so thrust it into your cheek, chewing gently from time to time, you will experience first an agreeable warm tingling of your tongue, the inner lining of your cheeks and the border of your larynx, followed by an increasingly remarkable
and evident clarity of mind, a serenity, and a perception that almost all worries are of little real consequence, most of them being the result of confused, anxious and generally fallacious notions that crowd and increase in direct proportion to the decline of pure singleminded reason. I should not advise the taking of it now, if you value your night’s sleep, since it tends to keep one awake, but do try it in the morning.
It is the most virtuous of leaves.’
‘If it diminishes anxiety by even a half per cent, pray let me have it at once,’ said Blaine. ‘The Dutch Duke is not the least of my cares, but he is much outweighed in real importance by the situation in the Adriatic, and in Malta once again, to say nothing of the present crisis in the Levant.’
The Ringle stood in to Shelmerston on the very last breath of the expiring north-east breeze, crossed the bar and dropped anchor inside the Surpnse, whose thin crew of ship-keepers greeted her with the expected cries: ‘Where had they been?
What had they been a-doing of? Bowsing up their jibe, no doubt. The slow coach could have come down quicker. The waggon would have beat them by half a day.’
Stephen, Tom Pullings, Sarah, Emily and Padeen hurried ashore, piled into two chaises and set off directly for Ashgrove. But in spite of all their haste, express letters, signals and orders travelling by semaphore from the Admiralty roof to Portsmouth had preceded them, and it was with the third of these in her hand that Mrs Williams, a short, thick, red-faced woman, now redder than usual with excitement, said to her daughter Sophie Aubrey, “The Ringle passed Portland Bill at half-past four, so Dr Maturin is sure to be here this afternoon. I think it my duty – and Mrs Morris agrees with me – to tell Captain Aubrey the whole of Diana’s disgraceful misconduct, so that he may break it gently to his friend.’
‘Mama,’ said Sophie firmly, ‘I beg you will do no such thing. You know he is to lie quiet, and Dr Gowers said. . .’
‘Dr Gowers, ma’am, if you please,’ said the butler.
‘Good morning, ladies,’ said Gowers. ‘I will just have a look at the Captain, if you please, and then we can attend to the children.’
‘He is as well as can be expected,’ he said, coming down the stairs, ‘but he must be kept perfectly quiet, with the room still darkened; and perhaps he could be read to in a low voice. Blair’s sermons, or Young’s Night Thoughts would answer very well. There has been far too much mental agitation recently. And he is to take three of these drops in a little water every
hour. Soup this evening, not too thick; and perhaps a little cheese. No beef or mutton, of course.’ He and Sophie hurried away to Charlotte, Fanny and George, who, immediately upon their hasty arrival from Dorset, had seen fit to come down with a high fever, a noisy cough, headache, restlessness, thirst, and a tendency to complain.
When they had gone, Mrs Williams walked softly into her son-in-law’s room, sat by his bed, and asked him how he did. Having heard that he was pretty well and that he looked forward to seeing Stephen Maturin, she coughed, drew her chair nearer and said,
‘Captain, in order that you should be able to break the dreadful news gradually and gently to your poor unfortunate friend, I think it my duty to tell you that since the birth of this idiot child Diana has been drmking heavily. She has been driving about the countryside, dining with people as far as twenty miles away, sometimes fast, raffish people like the Willises,
frequently going to balls and ridottos in Portsmouth, and perpetually fox-hunting sometimes without even a groom to accompany her. She is no sort of a mother to the poor little girl, and if it were not for her friend, this Mrs Oakes, the child would be left entirely to the care of the servants. And worse still,’ she said, lowering her voice, ‘worse still, Mr Aubrey – I say this of my own niece with the greatest reluctance, as you may imagine –
worse still, there are doubts about her conduct. I say doubts, but … Among others Colonel Hoskins has been frequently mentioned, and Mrs Hoskins no longer returns Diana’s calls.
Mrs Morris says – but here she is. Come in, Selina, dear.’
‘Oh Captain Aubrey, I am afraid I have sad news for you,’ cried Selina Morris, ‘but I think you ought to know. I think it only right to tell you: it is only too easy to nourish a viper in one’s bosom. Just now, on information received from our man Frederick Briggs, I caught Preserved Killick making off by the back lane to the servants’ quarters with a hamper of wine. “Where did you get that hamper of wine, Killick?” I asked him, and in his rough, bold way,without so much as a ma’am he replied “Which the Captain gave it me,”
and walked doggedly on. I called out that I should report him this minute and hurried to be here before the hamper could be concealed or huddled back into the cellar. I am quite out of breath, I declare.’
‘That was kind of you, Mrs Morris,’ said Jack, ‘but in fact I did give him the hamper.’
‘Oh indeed? Well, my intention was good, I am sure: and I ran all the way. My father had no notion of giving. . .’ But feeling that the notions of her father were of no great consequence in this case, although he was a peer, she withdrew, making discontented motions with her shoulders, arms, buttocks.
‘But as I was saying before dear Selina came on her mistaken but very well-meant errand, the greatest cause for general comment and disapproval was Diana’s almost open
– what shall I call it? – liaison with Mr Wilson, who managed her stud – a most improper occupation for a woman, even a married woman, by the way – a fine upstanding man with red whiskers – though not to compare with Selina’s Briggs – who lived if not in the same house then at least very close and in an isolated part of the country. When last I saw her, which is now some time ago, since I never fail to speak my mind to my niece, which instead of attending to admonition she resents
–
she always was a most undutiful girl.
‘But you told me yourself that she provided the capital for your present concern.’
‘Perhaps she did. But the money meant nothing to her – quite apart from her enormous winnings, Dr M left her far, far too much at her own uncontrolled, unsupervised disposal
–
and in any case Selina and I will pay it back presently. However, last time we saw her, Mrs Morris was certain that she was with child; and now we hear that the horses are all sent up to London, that the grooms are turned away, and that she has gone off herself, no doubt with her handsome manager. You must break it gently to your poor friend, or he will run mad.’
‘I shall certainly do nothing of the kind.’
Jack’s silence had quite persuaded Mrs Williams that he was in full agreement.
‘Upon my word,’ she cried in her indignation, ‘then I shall do it myself.’
‘If you presume to speak to him on this subject,’ said Jack in a low tone that nevertheless carried full conviction, ‘you and Mrs Moms and your servant Briggs will leave this house within the hour.’
Mrs Williams had changed much during his absence, but not so much that she could bring herself to renounce free board and lodging in a comfortable house whenever she chose to claim it. She closed her lips tight, and pale with anger left the room with much the same gestures as her friend.
Jack lay back. He was far too happy to be angry for long: he had already heard a good deal of what she said about Diana; during the voyage Sophie’s letters, far spaced-out though they were, had kept him aware of the general situation; and although he knew that Diana’s views on sexual morality were rather like his own, he did not believe a tenth part of this gossip – particularly he did not believe that she had run off with the man who managed her stud. And although he did very much regret Stephen’s inevitable heavy, heavy disappointment over the daughter he had so looked forward to, he felt that the marriage itself would hold together. It had always done so hitherto, in spite of being subjected to extraordinary strains.