2nd July; Settling Accounts

From the hold came a heavy-sounding crash, rather like the sound a small crate might make when knocked against something solid.

Billy turned his head at the sound. He gave Oxley a little push with one hand, the hand that wasn't gripping his ribcage. "Go on! Go an' see."

"Hold it right there! Belay that damn racket!" Quinn called authoritatively, advancing into the hold ahead of his two Marines.

One of the seamen in the dark hollered a couple filthy words in reply, but abruptly there was quiet in the hold.

That was only too bloody eerie, Ware thought with a shiver. Just as well Sergeant Quinn was going first!

"Tommy?" Sam called from the ladder, peering into the dark hold. "What's goin' on?"

"Cob Chase - dunno what 'e's up to," Tom told his brother, half turning round. "Here, wouldja get the surgeon - or stay with Barrow while I fetch 'im? He've done his side in again."

"Where'd they go?" Ware asked in an undertone, peering around at the dark of the hold. It was impossible to see anything down here. How could two lads even hope to manage a successful fight if they couldn't see what they were swinging at?

Sam continued down the ladder and saw Barrow sitting there with Tom. "Y'alright there, Billy? I'll fetch the surgeon." He cast a quick curious glance into the darkness where the marines were moving about, but there was little to be seen, so he quickly departed.

Damned bullocks. They never could leave a lad to his business. Or even well enough alone. Now there were at least three of the heavy-handed bastards fumbling their way into the hold.

Chase crouched low behind a barrel, ignoring the warm, steady flow of blood from his broken nose. He was going to get Seward back for that cheap shot. The disagreement had nearly been settled. Until those Marines had come alongside, anyway.

Deverel made his way down the ladder, following the direction that the marines had been rushing. "What's going on here?" he called in an authoritative voice. Damn disruptions.

That was a question that Sergeant Quinn should answer, but Sergeant Quinn was somewhere in the hold, searching the darkness for the two brawling seamen. Great, thought Dickin.

"Coupla Tars were fightin' in the hold, sir," he said. "Sarn't Quinn an' two of the lads've gone to fetch 'em out."

"Hmm," he grunted. The marines would no doubt get things under control. He would just wait here to see the outcome.

The Marines seemed to be bumbling closer to where he was hiding. Chase held his breath and kept very still. He was in no mood to be caught before he'd finished thrashing Seward the way he deserved.

Unfortunately, Seward seemed to have other ideas. There was a dull clunk from where the maintopman had fallen. It wasn't very far from where Chase was now hiding, by the sound of it. Damn.

"Sarn't!" One of the bullocks hissed. Despite himself, Chase grimaced. The bastards were very close by themselves.

"Sergeant Quinn?" Deverel called, peering into the hold. "You seamen, come out and show yourselves at once!"