‘Well, sir,’ said Jack, ‘I have only two observations to make. The first is that the third lieutenant is the son of an officer with whom I disagreed in Minorca. I say nothing against the young man, but he is aware of the disagreement and he takes his father’s part. It is no doubt natural, but it would not make for a happy ship.’
‘Dixon? His father’s name was Harte until he inherited Bewley, as I recall,’ said the admiral, with a look that was not
easily interpreted. Perhaps it was knowing, perhaps inwardly amused, conceivably disapproving; in any event Satterley was obviously aware that Aubrey was one of those who had made a cuckold of Captain Harte at Port Mahon.
‘Just so, sir.’
‘Have you any other officer to suggest?’
‘I am somewhat out of touch, sir. Might I have a word with your people and see whether one of my own young men is available?’
‘Very well. But he will have to be within hand’s reach, you know. What is your second observation, Aubrey?’
‘It is about the surgeon, sir: Mr Graham. I am sure he is a very able man, but I have always sailed with my particular friend Dr Maturin.’
‘Yes, so the First Lord told me. Mr Graham’s appointment or removal, of course, rests with the Sick and Hurt Board, and although we could induce them to offer him another ship, it was thought that under the circumstances Dr Maturin should travel either as though he were taking up an appointment in let us say Batavia or as physician to the envoy and his suite, or even, if as I understand pay is of little consequence to the gentleman, as your guest.’
It was as well that Jack Aubrey walked into Black’s quite a long time before his rendezvous with Stephen and Sir Joseph, for this was the height of the London season and the place was crowded with country gentlemen. But Tom the head porter, disengaging himself from a group with the usual country gentleman’s enquiries, emerged from his box and shaking Jack’s hand said, ‘I am right glad to see you again, sir. The club was not at all the same,’ and a surprising number of members, some of whom he hardly knew, came up and congratulated him upon his reinstatement. It is true that some of them
said they had always known it must be so, while others told him that all was well that ended well, yet still the sense of friendliness and support were extremely grateful, and although by now he was pretty well aware that the winning
102side was most widely applauded when the victory had become evident, he was much more moved than he would have supposed.
Sir Joseph and Stephen came up the steps together and Sir Joseph said, ‘May I give you joy of your Gazette, or has the tide already risen higher than you can bear?’
‘You are very good, Sir Joseph: many, many thanks. No, the tide cannot rise too high for me; I find I have a splendid appetite for the kindness of those I respect.’
They went upstairs and sat at a window in the Long Room, drinking sherry and watching the crowded street. ‘I am just come from Westminster,’ observed Jack, ‘and do you know it took me nearly half an hour, there was such a press.’
‘Was there anything afoot in the House?’ asked Blaine.
‘Oh no. It was just a string of private members’ bills: very few people. I only went to see Dacres take his seat. So few people it was only just legal, and poor fellow he was in a sad bate, since he has to post away to Plymouth this evening. Yet even so three members asked me whether I would take sons or nephews as midshipmen. And when I go tomorrow I dare say the same thing will happen. It is astonishing how eager people are to get rid of their boys. Though perhaps not really so very astonishing, when you consider.’
‘What did you reply?’
‘I said I should be very happy, so long as the boy was thirteen or fourteen and had been at a mathematical school for at least a year; and provided he already knew enough about the sea to be some use. A new command with a ship’s company you know nothing about and no schoolmaster is no place for little boys; they are much better off in a ship of the line, where at least they can act as ballast.’
‘Your guest has arrived, Sir Joseph,’ said a servant, and a few minutes later Blaine brought Mr Fox upstairs, a tall slim man, well dressed in the modern way – short unpowdered hair, black coat, white neckcloth and waistcoat, shoes and breeches with plain buckles – rather good-looking, self-possessed, perhaps forty. He paid a particularly obliging attention to Sir Joseph’s introductions and this favourable first impression was strengthened when they sat down to dinner in the smallest of the private rooms, a charming little octagon with a domed ceiling, and he said how happy he was to meet Captain Aubrey, whose capture of the Cacafuego in the last war had raised him to a pitch of enthusiasm exceeded only by the cutting-out of the Diane, and Dr Maturin, of whom he had heard so much from Sir Joseph. ‘To a natural philosopher, sir, the islands of the South China Sea must present a vast wealth of nondescript plants and birds. Was you ever there?’
‘Alas, sir, it was never my good fortune to sail farther east than the coast of Sumatra. But I hope to do better this time.’
‘I hope so too, upon my word. I have a friend in those parts who is a great naturalist and he assures me that even the larger mammals are hardly known with any degree of certainty, that the Dutch scarcely knew anything of the interior of Java or Sumatra – were concerned only with commerce and took no scientific interest in the country at all – were in no way natural philosophers. He has wonderful collections and he spends what time he can spare from his official duties increasing them – but I am sure you know of him: Stamford Raffles, the LieutenantGovernor of Java.’
‘I have never had the happiness of meeting the gentleman, but I have seen his letters: Sir Joseph Banks has shown me several, some with dried specimens and admirable descriptions of plants and some with what seem to me most judicious suggestions for a living museum of natural history, a Kew on the faunal plane.’
‘You would like him, I am sure. He is possessed of the most brilliant talents and an extraordinary fund of energy. I met him years ago in Penang when I was a member of the legislative council and he was in the Company’s service: he worked all day and he read all night and between times he collected anything from tigers to shrew-mice. A great linguist, too. He was of the utmost help to me when I was enquiring into the spread of Buddhism –
the arrival of Mahayana Buddhism in Java.’
‘Dr Maturin and I were present when you read your paper at Somerset House,’ observed Sir Joseph, and both Stephen and Jack, who had seen it in the Proceedings, took the opportunity to return Fox’s civilities. The talk flowed steadily, and Fox spoke of naval affairs and naval politics as they were seen from the shore – spoke intelligently, with a great deal of information. It moved on to the Surpnse’s unfortunate voyage, carrying Mr Stanhope to see another Malay sultan some years before, the voyage that had very nearly brought Stephen into the naturalist’s Paradise beyond the Sunda Strait.
‘Yes,’ said Fox, ‘I remember that mission well, one of Whitehall’s less brilliant ideas
– it would have been far better left to us: Raffles would have dealt with it on the spot, and poor Mr Stanhope would have been spared all that weary voyage and his fatal illness. It was absurd to send a man of his age; though to be sure, the King’s representative, the Crown by proxy and entitled to a thirteen-gun salute, if 1 do not mistake?’
‘Quite right, sir,’ said Jack. ‘Envoys have thirteen guns.’
‘Entitled to a thirteen-gun salute, then, has to be a man of great family or’ – smiling round the table – ‘of towering parts.’
‘He was a most amiable companion,’ said Stephen. ‘We studied the Malay language together, when he was well enough, and I remember his delight at the verb: no person, no number, no mood, no tense.’
‘That is the kind of verb for me,’ said Jack.
‘Did you make much progress?’ asked Fox.
‘We did not,’ said Stephen. ‘Ours was a deeply stupid book, written by a German in what he conceived to be French. When Mr Stanhope’s oriental secretary joined us in India he was as helpful as could be and I did acquire some rudimentary notions; but the voyage was too short. This time I mean to do better, and I hope to find a Malay servant from some East-Indiaman.’