The Thirteen Gun Salute by O’Brian Patrick

As he listened to the indistinct but certainly angry voices on

the other side of the thin bulkhead he reflected upon a whole variety of things, his mind relapsing into a contemplative after-dinner state in which it swam between dreaming and waking; and at one point he found himself recalling an eating house by the Four Courts – an extraordinarily clear detailed visual image of the place. He was sitting at the far end and he saw a man open the door, look at the long, crowded room (it was term-time), and, after a moment’s hesitation, walk in with exaggerated nonchalance, his hands in his pockets and his hat on his head, taking one of the few vacant places not far from Stephen. There was nothing in any way remarkable about him except that he was ill at ease; he felt conspicuous, regretted it, and made himself more conspicuous still by sprawling in his chair with his legs stretched out. But soon it became apparent that he was an ill-conditioned fellow as well. On being shown the bill of fare he questioned the waiter about every other item:

‘Was the mutton well hung? Had the parsnips no wood in their middle? Was it bullock’s beef or cow’s?’ and eventually he called for colcannon, a cut off the sirloin and half a pint of sherry. By this time he was aware that he was an object of dislike and he ate his meal with deliberate coarseness, hunched there with his elbows on the table, fairly exuding hostility and defiance.

‘If this is my inner man providing me with an analogy,’ he said, his mind moving into the present, ‘I cannot congratulate him at all. He has left out the essential factor of triumph and intense excitement. The only valid aspect is the man’s suspecting that he is unpopular and then going to great pains to make certain he is loathed.’

Stephen had never liked or wholly trusted Fox, but until the actual signature of the treaty they had got along smoothly enough. During the negotiations, in which Stephen had enabled the envoy to outflank Duplessis again and again and in which, as Fox knew very well, he had acquired the support of a majority in the council, without which the execution of Abdul would have had no diplomatic effect, they had worked well together; and he had been touchingly grateful for Stephen’s

help in the matter of Ledward and Wray. But a kind of lasting drunkenness or exaltation had come upon him at the ceremony of signature, the consummation of their voyage; and since that moment he had treated Stephen very shabbily indeed.

It was not only his inattention to his guest at that discreditable meal: it was a quantity of minor slights and an insistence upon his sole unaided personal success. And although even in the most unreserved flow of indiscretion during that interminable dinner Fox had not betrayed Stephen’s real function, it was no very ungenerous reflection to suppose that this was because he meant to arrogate all the merit to himself. What would Raffles make of that? What would Raffles make of the present Fox? What would Blaine have to say to him?

It was altogether a very strange state of affairs. Here was a man of real abilities, one who had despised the Old Buggers – had apologized for them – but who was now revelling in their company and their by no means delicate flattery. It was known that the governorship of Bencoolen would soon be vacant, and they all asserted that Fox must be the obvious choice. This pleased him, but it was a knighthood that Fox really longed for; he was convinced, or very nearly convinced, that his treaty would earn him one, and nothing could exceed his desire to get back to England for it as soon as conceivably possible. He even contemplated the extremely arduous overland journey.

‘There is some flaw there, some radical disturbance,’ said Stephen. ‘Was it always present? Should I have detected it? What is the prognosis?’ He shook his head. ‘I wish I could consult Dr Willis,’ he said aloud.

‘Who is Dr Willis?’ asked Jack, opening the door.

‘He was a man of great experience in disorders of the mind:

he looked after the King in his first illness. He was kind to me I was young, and if he were alive now I should importune him with my questions. May I ask any of you, or would that be untimely, indiscreet, improper?’ He could see from Jack’s face that the visit had not been pleasant, but he did not think that Fox, even with all his present glory and his elevated state of mind, was of such moral weight as to cause Jack Aubrey much uneasiness, and he was not surprised at the reply, ‘Oh, it was a disagreeable little interview; I had thought it might be. But at least I believe the matter is dealt with – there will be no repetition.’

Later, speaking in a disconnected, dissatisfied voice, he said, ‘Why, I cannot tell, but this has been preparing ever since we left Pulo Prabang. Still, I had hoped to get through the next few days without a collision; it is so unpleasant to have bad blood aboard. I shall be heartily glad to be shot of them. Nutmeg of Consolation, maybe; Rose of Delight, perhaps; but Flower of Courtesy.. . the scrub. Apart from anything else I cannot play easy with ill-will just at hand – we have had no music since we sailed. Yet even with this wind we should reach our cruising-ground by something like noon tomorrow, and then it is only a week of going to and fro if Tom is not already there or has left no message, and then the couple of days’ run to Batavia. Perhaps there will be news from home waiting for us there. Lord, how I should love to know how things are going.’

‘Oh so should I,’ cried Stephen. ‘Though it is not yet possible that there should be word of Diana and our daughter. Sometimes when I think of that little soul I grow quite lachrymose.’

‘A few months of roaring and bawling and swaddling-clothes will soon cure you of that. You have to be a woman to bear babies.’

‘So I have always understood,’ said Stephen.

‘Oh very well, Dr Humorous Droll: but there is also that damned uneasy talk about banks breaking that I should like to see denied.’

And later still, when he was floating in the warm South China Sea by Stephen’s skiff, his hair spreading like a mat of yellow seaweed, he said, ‘I shall ask them to dinner for the day after tomorrow, in return for that remarkable feast. I do not wish to look pitiful; and I know what is due to his office.’

‘Jack, I beg you will watch your step, however. Fox is an extraordinarily revengeful man, and a lawyer; and if he can

carry home any substantial grievance it may do you harm, in spite of your position. For a short while he is likely to have the ear of those in power.’

‘Oh, I shall not commit myself,’ said Jack. ‘I have seen too many post-captains, good seamen too, denied another ship for flying out under provocation.’ The breeze had dropped entirely, as it often did for an hour before sunset, and the ship lay motionless. But the sun was not far from the rim of the sea; the breeze would return when it dipped; and Jack, calling upon Stephen to ‘lay over, there,’ heaved himself into the little boat, gliding his seventeen stone over the gunwale so that it remained just free of the surface.

‘I believe you once said you were taught Greek when you were a little boy,’ said Stephen as he paddled gently towards the frigate.

‘To be sure I was taught it,’ said Jack, laughing. ‘Or rather I was attempted to be taught it, and with many a thump; but I cannot say I ever learnt it. Not beyond zeta, at all events.’

‘Well, I am no Grecian either, but I did get as far as upsilon; and there I met with the word hybris, which some writers use for insolent pride of strength or achievement, open unguarded triumph and exultation.’

‘Nothing more unlucky.’

‘Nor in a way more impious, which is perhaps close kin. Herod was probably guilty of hybris, before being eaten by worms.’

‘My old nurse – back astern, there. T’other oar. Look alive.’ Jack’s old nurse had had a capital remedy for worms, or rather against worms, but it was lost in the dismal collision, the rescuing of Maturin from the bottom of the boat, the recovery of his sculls. Jack, when he at last got there, was received at the gangway by Killick, screened by Richardson, Elliott, the young gentlemen and two quartermasters, and wrapped in a large towel. All hands knew perfectly well how

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