They listened, amazed: they both knew enough of the sea and of that particular blast to have some notion of the appalling situation of the three ships in question. They shook their heads, but said nothing.
‘It is difficult to believe that we survived those God knows how many days, but at least Ringle could carry and fetch, and we were all fairly well supplied. And luckily the weather, though as foul as can be imagined, was not cold: luckily, for all the beds aboard Surprise had to be stuffed into those shocking started butts, where the sea came pouring in for the first two days, in spite of all the fothering in the world. The bows of sharp-built craft are very, very hard to fother. It was a rough time, with the pumping alone; and I have never seen so much grog drunk with so little effect. And the people, at least our people,
behaved very well: never a cross word. In time Lion did manage a tolerable jury-rig, enough to give her five knots; the wind and our leaks grew a little less wicked; and we limped into Mahon on Tuesday morning, making a perfect landfall. We landed our wounded – strains, hernias and falling blocks, mostly – the Commodore had Ringle surveyed – they pronounced her fit – we took some stores aboard, and with the wind veering just enough to let us out of Mahon he sent me off to fetch you, while he and all the shipwrights who could be spared from Lion laboured on repairing Surprise right round the clock. We went with a heavy heart – heavier still when the wind shifted right back into the south and we thought we should never see Africa again. Nor did I think I should ever again bless a southerly gale, though this one is all a man could wish.’
Indeed it was now the kindest breeze, and late the next morning it wafted them up the long, long inlet to Port Mahon, where the naval yard echoed with the caulkers’ mallets thundering upon the Lion’s hull. But out in the fairway there rode Surprise, apparently as trim as ever she had been, with her captain in a boat under her newly-painted bows telling his joiner just where to place the last rectangles of gold leaf on her upper forefoot.
As soon as he was aware of the Ringle’s presence he sent his joiner up the side, spun the boat about and pulled rapidly across the harbour. He was in the plainest of working cinthes, but the Ringles had seen him from afar and he was received with all the ceremonial honours that any commodore has a right to, and with much more pleasure and good will than most.
‘A very hearty welcome to you all,’ he cried. ‘I never thought to have seen you so soon, with a full gale so steady in the south.’
‘Nor you would not have seen us, sir,’ said William Reade,
• ‘but for an uncommon blessing. We could make no headway at all – turned and turned just in sight of Algiers, losing ground on every tack the last day or so; but a corsair galley came ,racing out full before the wind, her lateens hare-eared on either side; and she was carrying Dr Maturin and his slaves, and Dr Jacob.’
‘Doctors,’ said Jack, shaking their hands, ‘how very glad I am to see you. Come back to the ship with me, and we will all have dinner together – some guests are coming, among them the Admiral, and we have been preddying her fore and aft.’
‘Mona,’ said Stephen, ‘make your bob to the Commodore:
Kevin, make your leg.’
Jack bowed to each in return, and said, ‘These are your slaves, I presume?’
‘Just so,’ said Stephen. ‘May I be allowed to take them with us and confide them to Poll?’
‘Of course you may,’ said Jack. ‘William, if you bring Ringle alongside, I think it would be better than in and out of boats.’
It was very like a home-coming, and as he gazed about the spotless deck, the impeccable exactitude of the yards and the gleaming paint, to say nothing of the extreme brilliance of every piece of metal that could be induced to shine, Stephen felt that he might have been aboard the frigate fresh from Sepping’s yard and Madeira, lying within the New Mole and waiting for the visit of the Commander-in-Chief and Lady Keith, rather than on a vessel that had undergone a battering so severe that she very nearly went down with all hands. It was true that Jack Aubrey looked twenty years older and quite thin, that the traces of extreme hard labour and fatigue were evident on most of the faces – the smiling
faces – that he saw, and that the grey, bowed figure that approached, touched his hat, and said, ‘I give you joy of your return, sir,’ remained unrecognized until he spoke.
‘Killick,’ he cried, detaching himself from Mona and shaking his hand, ‘I hope I see you well?’
‘I ain’t complaining, sir; and you look tolerable spry, if I may take the liberty. Which I have laid out your decent clothes in the bed-place.’
‘Must I change?’
‘You would never wish to bring discredit on the barky, with all that filth.’ Killick pointed to some odd patches of rifle-oil here and there. ‘The Admiral is dining aboard.’
Stephen bowed to the inevitable and said, ‘Killick, please do me another kindness and take these children to Poll with my compliments – beg her to wash, brush and rig them in a suitable manner, feed them on whatever is appropriate, and above all be very kind and gentle with them. They do not speak any English yet, but Geoghegan will interpret.’
‘Kind and gentle, sir?’ He sniffed, and added, ‘Well, I shall give the message.’
Stephen explained all this to the children: but he doubted that they, with so many new and extraordinary experiences, sights, so many strange people, even partially understood his words. However, they did each give Killick a hand and followed him to the after hatchway, from which they cast back a wan and anxious look.
He found Jack and Harding looking most attentively at the new accommodation-ladder, shipped for their illustrious guests. ‘Jack,’ he said, ‘forgive me, but I must have a word with you. You will excuse me, Mr Harding?’
In the cabin he went on, ‘I have been bursting with my news – there’was not a single fit moment aboard the Ringle. As, you know very well, one of the prime objects of our voyage was, to prevent gold reaching the Adriatic Muslims.’ Jack nodded. ‘The then Dey agreed not to let it pass by way of Algiers: but he has been murdered and betrayed: the gold is now aboard a very rapid vessel in the port of Arzila – is now or very soon will be aboard. This vessel, a galley, as I recall, is to attempt the passage of the Strait by night with a favourable wind. Is it reasonable that we should lie here, inactive? I knew the facts in Algiers, and it almost killed me, being unable to tell you because of that cruel south wind, and the days passing, passing.’
‘How well I, understand your pain, dear Stephen,’ said Jack, laying a hand on his shoulder. ‘But you must recollect that these same southerly gales have been blowing elsewhere, even far west of the Canaries. They have kept almost all shipping on the west coast of Spain and Portugal in port, and even stout, new-built ships of the line did not attempt the Strait and its wicked lee-shore until last Monday. Your Moorish galley or xebec would never, never have ventured out in such seas. Take comfort, brother. Drink up a little glass of gin to restore your appetite, and enjoy your dinner.
The Admiral is coming, and his politico, and your friend Mr Wright – he has often asked after you.’
‘You relieve my mind wonderfully, Jack.’ Stephen sat breathing deeply for a while: he looked so pale that Jack poured his gin at once, added a squeeze of lemon, and urged him to get it down in little sips before he changed.
Before the glass was empty someone knocked at the cabin door. It was Simpson, the ship’s barber, with a fresh white apron and jug of hot water. ‘Simpson, sir,’ he said.
‘Which Killick thought the Doctor might like a shave.’
Stephen ran his hand over his chin, as men will do on such occasions – even Popes have been known to make the same gesture – and he acquiesced. It was therefore a smoothed, brushed, and quite well-dressed Dr Maturin who stood there on deck, just before the appointed hour, behind the Commodore, his first lieutenant and the officer of the Royal Marines, all equally smooth and all in their splendour, blue and gold for the sailors, scarlet and gold for the soldiers. As the more conscientious clocks of Mahon prepared to strike the hour, Admiral Fanshawe stepped from a coach, followed by his secretary and political adviser; and before he set foot on deck, hats flew off, the bosun sounded his call and the Marines presented arms with a perfectly simultaneous crash.