Ahmed appeared with a dressing-gown: between them they conveyed him to the dining-cabin, where Killick had laid out breakfast. A better leant against the coffee-pot, and
Bonden gave it to him: ‘To be read directly minute, sir, if you please,’ he said. ‘Ahmed, pour away.’
Maturin was fairly wise in his generation when fully awake, but not so wise at present that he did not book earnestly at the back of the letter while he sipped his first reviving cup. ‘It was brought by Mr Edwards, sir,’ said Bonden. Kilbick, peering through the open door, said, ‘Which he is down in the hold with the Captain and Chips this mortal minute, your honour,’ and just overhead there broke out a shattering cry of ‘Bargemen, d’ye hear there? Shave and clean shirt for six bells’, followed by another set of orders and a sharp cutting pipe as the copper-bottomed launch, the honorary barge, was lowered down.
He broke the seal.
My dear Maturin
I give you joy. We have won! The Vizier has just sent me word that the treaty, in the exact terms we agreed upon, is ready, and I am to attend for signature at one o’clock, which the court astrologer declares a propitious hour. A propitious hour for us! I am only to take a small escort and suite, because of the circumstances, but I trust you will be of the number; and I trust you will also do me the honour of dining here afterwards.
In great haste
Yr most obdt humble servt
‘Humble now I very much doubt,’ said Stephen, and then, looking up, ‘Good morning to you, gentlemen. You are both in a sad state of filth, I find. Jack, have you breakfasted? Mr Edwards, will I pour you a cup of coffee?’
‘I am perfectly willing to breakfast again,’ said Jack. ‘We have been creeping about in the hold.’
‘We have been rousing out the Sultan’s subsidy,’ said Edwards, joy radiating from him. ‘You have heard the news of course, sir?’
‘You were so kind as to bring it yourself,’ said Stephen, nodding at the better.
‘So I did,’ said Edwards, laughing happily. ‘I am growing as forgetful as an old mole, or a bat.’
At five bells Jack stood up. ‘Come, Mr Edwards,’ he said. ‘You and I and the Doctor must scrub ourselves from clew to earring and put on our birthday suits. Killick! Killick, there. You and Ahmed will help the Doctor to get ready to go to court: he will wear his scarlet robe.’
It was in his scarlet robe therefore that Dr Maturin stood on the quarterdeck, as ready as severe shaving, a newly-curbed, newly-powdered wig, and a good many other firm measures could make him. But in spite of them all – and the more savage kind of nursery-governess was nothing to Preserved Killick – his spirits rose with those of the ship.
There was merriment all round him, laughter as the little heavy chests of treasure were lowered down one by one into the launch, lying under the barboard mainchains, much the same general happiness as if the Diane had captured a prize, and a rich one at that. The bargemen were already eating their dinner under the forecastle awning, holding it well away from their fine clothes.
Just’ before eight bells in the forenoon watch the last chest was stowed: the select guard of the Marines and their officer were all in place, together with Richardson, Elliott, Maturin
and young Seymour. Jack appeared in full uniform, wearing his gold-hiked presentation-sword, glanced fore and aft, and came down the side, but with no ceremony.
And it was with little ceremony that he met Fox’s people,
who had come to the landing-place with a couple of shabby bullock-carts for the subsidy. Not much more attended the appearance of the envoy himself, riding a handsome little Javanese horse, sent by the Vizier. He called out ‘Good morning, gentlemen,’ dismounted, gave the reins to the attendant grooms, and in a low, confidential tone he said, ‘Forgive me, Aubrey: I am several minutes late – the line is already formed, I see – but should this go as I hope and trust it will, would you have any objection to sailing at once? The news should reach the Ministry at the earliest possible moment, and India, of course. I could ask the Vizier to transport our impedimenta in that same double proa.’
While one part of Jack’s mind was recording the impression of intense, barely contained excitement, not unlike a certain form of drunkenness, another ran over the state of the Diane’s water, wood and stores. ‘It can be done,’ he said. ‘We may go a little short of fuel for the galley, but we can manage the evening tide.’
‘I hoped you would say that, Aubrey,’ said Fox, shaking his hand. ‘I am so much obliged to you. I for one should be happy to eat my sea-pie raw to gain a day,’ he added with a high-pitched laugh as he got on to his horse again and took the head of the procession.
It was a comparatively muted ceremony at the palace too: the Sultan was already on his throne when the mission entered the audience-hall, and although he greeted them with smiles and a proper complaisance his face was ravaged and during the long reading of the treaty it relapsed into an expression of very deep, settled unhappiness. After two speeches and the sealing and signing of both copies he retired, and the atmosphere became much less grave. The Vizier was in the highest spirits; he had formed a valuable, potentially an extremely valuable, alliance; he had filled the treasury; he had got rid of a most troublesome favourite; he had ensured the Sultana’s good will; and it was not surprising that the presents given in the Sultan’s name should reflect his chief minister’s satisfaction. Fox had a coral-handled kris of great antiquity and a jade Buddha at least twice as old;
Jack a star-ruby in a lacquer box, the fruit of some distant piracy; and Stephen a gift that for a moment put him out of countenance
– a chest of the Honourable East India Company’s best Bengal opium. As far as the baggage and servants were concerned, the old gentleman was delighted to be of service: Wan Da would attend to it immediately. And after fond farewells the envoy and his suite had the honours of drums and trumpets in each successive courtyard as they left, marching through a goodnatured cheerful crowd to Fox’s house to dine.
The dinner consisted almost entirely of fish, many sorts of fish, all fresh, all remarkably good, accompanied by rice and luke-warm bottled ale. But it might have been boiled beef or bread-and-butter pudding for all the notice Fox and his companions took of it. Like their chief, the Old Buggers were beside themselves with flow of spirits and elation; but unlike him they were extremely noisy and loquacious. At the palace their long training
had kept them silent, but now they let themselves go; this was the sort of victory they thoroughly understood, and they celebrated it in their own way, with a flood of words, words that grew louder and louder as the meal progressed, voices often talking together.
An odd, unbuttoned meal even in its material aspects, with servants taking things away to pack them – waiting in working clothes – disappearing themselves, leaving the room strangely bare, rather as if they had been bailiff’s men.
‘Let us have no ceremony, gentlemen,’ Fox had said on walking into the dining-room, and they had sat down as they pleased: the officials were clustered round Fox at the head of the table, the sailors at the foot, with Jack and Stephen at the far end. Four aside, Fox at the head, Welby, rather lost, at the bottom. No ceremony: the civilians took off their coats, loosened their cravats and breeches. They talked openly about the events of the last few days, and Loder was particularly
•
eloquent on the subject of the subtlety of their campaign, the way the information had been conveyed to Hafsa, the success after several failures; their talk became freer still, with a cross-fire of wit about sodomy. Both Jack and Stephen glanced at Fox as the noise increased, but he merely looked down at his colleagues on either side with an amused condescension. It was only when Johnstone cried ‘And all the French are buggered too’ that he said, ‘That will do, Judge,’ in an authoritative tone, unheard before.
Since discretion had flown out of the window, Stephen thought that he too would leave. It was deeply painful to hear all the fundamental rules of intelligence, all the rules of even common good sense disregarded; and the details of this particular intelligence coup, as it might be called, were more painful still. In any case he was determined to take a proper leave of the van Burens and his Chinese friends, whether the ship sailed that day or not: there was no urgency whatsoever about the treaty – the situation had already been dealt with entirely. While he was waiting for the roar of laughter that would cover his retreat he listened to the officials’ conversation: their flattery had now become so gross that he wondered how a man of Fox’s undoubted parts could swallow it; but the envoy smiled on, only shaking his head gently from time to time. The expected flash came (‘peppering for adultery in England would lead to a run on the commodity: a fortune might be made by cornering the market’) followed by the expected roar, and with a nod to Jack he slipped out. He passed Loder pissing on the verandah, gave his scarlet robe to one of the Marines on guard and walked off. ‘But I am glad, right glad,’ he said, ‘that Jack knows just how the poor brutes were betrayed, and by whom.’ He walked rapidly on, passing a herd of buffaloes, and then he said, ‘Such mediocrity at such a level – a judge, members of the legislative council – they order these things better in France.’ But honesty made him pause, and he went on ‘They would order these things better in an independent Ireland, however.’