June 10; An Attempt to Study

Bailey spoke to him and told him that Lieutenant Sewell meant no offense, at this Mr Midshipman Hunt felt better. The young fifteen year old had called the losing of his arm ‘heroic’ and Ambrose felt a large portion of pride swell within him. Heroic, many did call it courageous and brave, to put his life on the line so that the captain (who he was close to) would live; conversely, many did call it ‘folly’. He could still remember the enemy ship’s attack, the loud noises, the blood, the screams, his intense as pain shrapnel had lodged itself securely into his then damaged arm while the bone was cut into and his nerves pinned upwards to help the surgeon – he had only been sixteen, not much older than Mister Bailey or much younger than Mister Scudder. It was a time in which would always haunt Ambrose.

And when the Bailey suggested he apologise, Ambrose couldn’t agree more. Before he could say anything to either Bailey or the marine there was a small interruption with fellow midshipman Fletcher, Ambrose felt a little impatient as he thought it best to give the man an apology as the Bailey had recommended. Instead he nodded at Fletcher to show that he knew he was present.

"I had meant to imply that you had more experience than the other midshipmen here."

“I do? You're much too kind.” Ambrose questioned in shock, he was flattered of course and his previous morbid thoughts erased, “Let's pray they don't have the same experiences. On the other hand, they are quite talented... And I think Mister Fletcher and Scudder would agree with me.”

Bailey averted his gaze to the new arrival, making himself no longer the youngest in the gathering. Little that helped, really. He smiled. "Not much, Mister Fletcher. A discussion of their past experiences out to sea. It had only gone a slight bit awry.. but it is now mended." He arched a brow wondering why his name had been omitted. Surely the man did not now feel offended he had demanded an apology for another.

It was all fine with him though. "Have you come here to study with the pair?" He asked Fletcher and indicated Scudder and Hunt. "Or..?" He had hoped for some more rest and perhaps something less serious. The reading, even of his literature, was becoming a less and less pleasing idea. Atleast, for now. Even gossip of the ship would have been a fun past time!

Well, it would do for now. Mr. Hunt had actually recovered quite nicely, all things considered, Sew thought. And Mr. Bailey showed all the signs of becoming a junior diplomat. Thinking it better to end his conversation with the midshipman now before the incident drew more attention then it deserved, he gave Hunt a polite nod of agreement and turned around to Fletcher.

"Mr. Fletcher!" After the short but courteous salutation, Sew withdrew a few steps. He didn't want to disturb the conversation between Bailey and Fletcher by his presence. Besides, his pipe needed to be relit.

Scudder was surprised that Mr. Hunt had almost lost his temper with Mr. Sewell and he almost said something but Mr. Bailey had already spoken. He nodded his head in agreement and was quite pleased that Mr. Hunt immediately returned to his happy demeanour which had been present earlier. Scudder was curious as to why Mr. Hunt had omitted Mr. Bailey from his compliment and was almost suspecting that although he was now flattered, he was still holding some resentment for whatever reason. When the other midshipman had said that he would agree with him, Scudder was almost speechless but managed to say, “Well… I… I…” before he turned his attention towards the young Mr. Fletcher, who had showed himself on the quarterdeck just a few moments prior, and Mr. Bailey.

The prospect of studying seemed displeasing, it would be hard to concentrate on his French with others around especially as he was so shy of his pronunciation. And with such tension in the air, it was difficult to think about studies.