The Morning After - day

The night took most of suspicions away for a time, leaving men and boys to sleep in near peacful manner, and have rats scamper away into places on deck that miss Emily could not reach. As every evening and night, it was the time that did not stirr trouble even if trouble had begun just that day before. Snores that had a few men jolt the offensive member into awakeness.. were the worst of events following through the night.

In the sick bay the scene was quite similar, 'cept for the snoring, with it's only patient curled neatly in his cot, and nothing to disturb the peace. The silence was complete, for the middie did not 'saw t' wood' while asleep. Light began to colour the sky, bringing some spirit to the departing night, brightening the day and turning the dark blue into a faint light pale one.

Having spent what little remained of the night in and out of sleep, Bolitho promptly rose as soon as the sun was up. He hoped that De Guarde would be relatively coherent this morning, for he very much wanted to speak to the boy about the events of the previous evening, both in and out of the Great Cabin. So once he was up and presentable, Bolitho called for Catchpole, and sent the steward off in search of De Guarde, who he assumed was still in the sickbay.

The captain's assumption had been right, Catchpole thought, for that was exactly where De Guarde was located. The midshipman looked so peaceful curled up in his cot that the steward was loathe to disturb the boy. But orders were orders, and Bolitho had requested the middie's presence. Crossing over to the cot, Catchpole gently nudged De Guarde's shoulder.

"Mr. De Guarde?" he said softly, "Beggin' yer pardon sir, but yer presence is requested in th' cap'n's cabin."

The light nudge barely caught the attention of the boy. But the voice and the single word of captain had near jolted him awake. He looked confused, startled about his surroundings which were so unfamiliar, as was the face of the man standing before him.

It wasn't till his headache, renewed returned in full go, and the memories thrust themselves violently into his mind. He knew where he was now and about why. Blinking at Catchpole he looked far less glad and despaired in the news that he needed to go to the captain.

He sat up quicker and regretted the motion, yet gave little indication of his discomfort:"..I'll be righ' there."He spoke and shifted his weight from the hammock to his feet."..'jus get me...me coat n' me shoes." And his neck cloth too, for he did not wish to arrive looking less than presentable. He made his way out of the sickbay and returned to the number of softly swaying cots, where boys still slept quite tightly. He unlocked his chest and from it, he retrieved a cloth, and from beneath his hammock, his shoes.

He did it all in haste, and nearly rebuttoned his vest wrong twice. He snatches his hat from his chest and quickly walked from the Berth to mr. Catchpole, whom he had expected, would lead the way.

He felt his heart sink, and the familiar tremble return, when he thought of the captain. He met him before and has been scolded. He knew how to place a good face on his, but was more worried about what the captain had to say, rather than petty appearances.

He waited at the door to be announced. As it opened he slowly entered, his hat now under his arm:"...You.. wanted to see me, sir."He spoke, the mask finely in place. A look of indifference even when his head had trobbed enough to threaten a grimace on his face instead.

Bolitho turned at the sound of De Guarde's arrival, immediately putting on as stern an expression as possible. The boy had been on ship for only one day, and the amount of trouble he had caused was ridiculous. This would not be tolerated. This was going to end here.

"Mr. De Guarde," he began, "I will not go into the events concerning the dinner last evening. While I was not pleased with your antics, I am willing to forgive, being that it was your first night aboard ship and you had clearly over-indulged on drink. However, I must make it clear that I do not wish such a thing to ever happen again. If I get wind of anything of the sort, there will be serious consequences."

He paused, letting that information sink in.

"Now then, as distressing as I found your display at dinner, I am much more concerned with what happened afterward. Perhaps you would care to tell me how exactly you ended up falling overboard?"

He had gone from terrified at the mention of the act and the drinks, barely keeping his face in check not to seem fearful and at little ease, to a more relaxed state at the mention of the hours later.

He straightened somewhat, his back more stiff, his mind less forgiving of his own self, wishing to impress his superior.
He felt his mind react to the thought of recollecting the memory, discomfort return and to strengthen at the prospect of having to think back on the events.

"..sir." He began, and fidgeted nervously at his spot. No punishment for his behavour had given him enough courage and motivation to continue."...there must have been someone who carreid me up above.... I.. I was intoxicated yes, But I would not have gone of me own. I... think they were two, sir. "Again he took a moment to consider what more he would say. 's... not of me accord that I went there.. no sir. Somebody.. I think somebody or someones on t' ship wished me gone.. Sir. And planned it!"

Bolitho listened as De Guarde related his version of the events. The boy had been drunk, and quite out of sorts. Surely he could have imagined the entire scenario, and unknowingly went up on deck and fell over the rail himself. Yet...the young man's attitude had surely made much of the crew uneasy. It would not be unbelieveable to learn that someone had tried to do him in, as shocking as that idea was. But De Guarde had no evidence to go on. Even if he was absolutely certain that he had been purposely tossed overboard, he did not know who the culprits were. And that would be nearly impossible to prove.

"These are strong accusations, Mr. De Guarde," Bolitho said, "I do not doubt your feelings, but you were not yourself last night. Surely it is possible that you were disoriented, and may be recalling things somewhat erroneously."

He took a step closer to the midshipman, staring down at the boy with a harsh gleam in his grey eyes.

"Let me make this perfectly clear. Chase may have given you reason to punish him, questionable though it may have been. But I will not start any proceedings against any other crewmembers unless you can tell me without fear of contradiction that you know who purpetrated this act. Because if you are uncertain in the least as to who may have been involved, then there is little else that can be done for the moment. And I will not prosecute innocent men simply because you wish to assert your authority."

Bolitho waited for a moment, continuing to stare at De Guarde as he did.

"Now," he said at last, "Do you have any idea who may have done this?"

It didn't take one to be a wise man to understand that the captain had doubts in his earlier accusations and he was not afraid to show that to the youth. Mathew felt more nervous when the captain closed in, the eyes that were resting on him, having the boy feel the unseen pressure. With the glare he could easily have been fooled into seeing the face of his previous captain. Bolitho, he felt, was playing a game of cat and mouse, in which case he was the tiny little rodent fearing for his life.

"..s..sir."He stammered, plucking nervoulsy at his cuff. He fought, trying to keep his face straight and not tremble in fear like a leaf in strong winds. His headache was making it worse and as he knew he had been atleast in part in the wrong, he could not bear to bring forth a cocky look nor the brave one from his first time before this captain.

"..I..."He struggled to recall the faces, but he could not. It was dark, there was a hand, another pair holding his legs. But no voices. No faces. He had his suspicions. Chase was one of the men that he considered as a culprit. After all, he had reason to hate him! And then the men that were his friends.. because they too would side with that lad. Another culprit he thought could be possible, was Barrow. As odd as that may sound, he had thought that the sailor could've first thrown him in, and then upon the alarm, he was forced as a swimmer to jump in after him. Perhaps to avoid suspicion. How else could he have been found on deck. But again, he had as little proof of it as he had the knowledge of what was going on at home at this very moment.

"...I..."He felt his throat dry, his tongue heavy with fear. As much as he tried to make himself look calm and composed, he was exhausted and this showed in his struggles. And.. he was intimidated by the captain.
"I ..they.. I'm certain... was two.. They were..

..don't ..know sir.. but I've gotacomplaintagainstBarrow forusingfoul anguagetowardsanofficer."He blurted out. He lowered his gaze quickly. That wasn't exactly what he had wanted, but he didn't really know of any man that would wish to do him in. Even if he had seen the faces, he wouldn't know of their names. It was barely a day he was here. And if he was shown them, well, he was drunk. Who would believe him? The captain sure looked as if he would not. This in all was different than from his old ship. The captain did not doubt the complaints of his officers as much as his other flaws made him one to fear.


But he was sure, certain that he heard the words from Barrow. Those not too kind words. Through all the haze of drowning and of alcohol, which had been in his system, jolted 'sober' by the cold water, he was sure he heard those words. This was a defence.

The boy was scared. Bolitho could see it in his eyes, though he was trying valiantly to hide his apprehension. He did not want to frighten De Guarde witless, but he wanted the boy to know that he would not harbour any petty little tyrants on this ship. And obviously, his intimidation had been relatively successful. As expected, De Guarde did not know who, if anyone, had tried to drown him. He claimed there had been two men, but thankfully the boy had not put any blatant accusations forward. However, the mention of Barrow both surprised and confused Bolitho. Barrow had been the one to save De Guarde. Surely he bore the boy no serious ill will.

"A complaint against Barrow?" Bolitho said, raising an eyebrow, "For using foul language towards an officer? When was this? Before or after you found yourself in the water?"

"...After, sir." He had regretted mentioning the man, but now he felt that it would be against his honour to suddenly withdraw the accusation. He panicked and he knew he had.

"...while I was in the water.....actually." He was speaking honest truth, even if the reason for the language was not contempt towards the boy, for Barrow hadn't even known that it was a middie he was saving. His gaze dropped again, feeling nervous. He could repeat the words if needed, or the meaning just about. And he convinced himself smoothly that Barrow had not done his valiant deed, but was indeed doing it out of a different, most selfish an agenda. It was good enough to supply him with an excuse not to feel guilty anymore at the complaint.

Resisting the urge to mutter Oh for heaven's sake..., Bolitho settled on giving the boy a skeptical expression instead.

"That is your complaint?" he said, incredulously, "Really Mr. De Guarde. You seem to forget that I was on deck myself once I learned of your predicament. I saw everything that happened when Barrow pulled you from the water. If he was using any foul language during the ordeal, surely it was not intentional and was due to his exertion in trying to save your life, something which he did at the risk of his own life, I may add. It does not do for you to cast aspersions on someone who was trying to help you."

"..b..but sir." He stammered, his cheeks colouring red and hands balling into fists under their respectable cuffs.".. even in t' line of danger a.. a man should never forget respect towards t' officer..one such to be, or.. one that is." He was digging his hole deeper by the second and yet he could not recall his words for fear of seeming a weak and undecisive child.

"..He.. He has spoken those words.. by my honour I swear it."He licked his lips, feeling his throat so dry, that he considered a desert to have more water than he.

"I do not doubt your claim, Mr. De Guarde," said Bolitho, "I am not at all surprised that Barrow was saying some questionable things while rescuing you. And yes, a man should never forget to be respectful to an officer, even under duress. But did it occur to you that he might not have known that it was an officer he was saving? Do think there is a chance Barrow did not know it was you before he got you into the boat? It was quite dark; I could barely see either of you in the water. And surely it would have been even harder for Barrow to see, especially with all the thrashing you were doing."

"I'm sure he knew who I was.."And to that he was not. As convinced as he sounded, he knew that he hadn't been able to see much before him himself. Though his excuse had been the salty water that entered his eyes, and had him trash sprinkling more about. That and his previous engagement which had left him slightly impaired for the night.

"..sir."He added lastly. As it seemed to be his habit when nervous his hand had gone for the cuff again. Tugging softly at the fabric as if that would distract him.

"I.. I'm sure."His voice trembled and it took every ounce of strength that his hung over body could master, that he kept even this much restraint. He wasn't used to being doubted when it concerned the men's punishment and crime. So this had been even more unnerving than any prospect of his own trouble during the day before.

Bolitho continued to eye the boy warily, not entirely sure that he was telling the truth. But he had no way of proving that, and so he would just have to take De Guarde's word.

"Very well," he said, "I will accept that you are being truthful. However, that does not mean that Barrow deserves a severe punishment. Even if he knew it was you, he was in a rather precarious situation. Respect towards officers is vital, but if a man is risking his own life, surely he can be forgiven for such a small indescretion."

He took a deep breath before continuing.

"I will speak to Barrow about this, and will be sure to remind him that foul language is never to be used in front of an officer. But I will not flog a man for letting a few bad words slip while under extreme duress, especially since he was saving the officer in question in the process. Is that understood, Mr. De Guarde?"

"Sir!..."He opened his mouth to protest, then with a submissive look on his face he slowly inclined his head into a small nod.

"...Aye.. sir."He spoke with masked agitation, not understanding how the captain could allow any man that was not exemplary towards an officer, to go freely. His head pounded something awful, so that he could not find himself to dwell on the question for long. Instead he decided to wait and to see if the captain had any other issues to address. He wondered if Bolitho thought that he had fallen in and would not go ahead to see that the culprits were found.

What if, that was the case? Did he need to begin to fear the men who he would meet and pass orders to? He looked worried at the thought, but kept his gaze still cast downwards, angry and frustrated.

The disappointment in the boy's voice was plain, and it was sad to think that he had been anticipating punishing Barrow for such a minor thing. Truly De Guarde would grow up to an awful officer unless something was done.

"Good," Bolitho said, "Now then, since you could not discern the identity of your attacker, or attackers, for the moment there is little to be done. I will have Mr. Bush, Mr. Leat, and Mr. George find out as much as they can about who may have committed the crime. But until we have concrete evidence, I will not cast any accusations about. And it would behoove you to do the same, for the time being."

Deciding to speak a bit more personally, Bolitho's voice softened somewhat.

"Mr. De Guarde, I do not know what your last captain taught you, but you must learn that an officer is to be respected as well as feared. Men will follow you, to the death if necessary, but only if they trust you. And you cannot earn that trust by flogging them into submission. Discipline is necessary, but not in the extreme. To gain respect from a crew, you must be firm yet fair. Achieve that, and you will find the men on your side. Fail that, and you may find yourself in an even worse situtation than you were last night. Please, keep that in mind."

Atleast he had decided to believe him about the attempted murder. The boy felt no relief though with that realisation. He doubted that men would come forth to admit to their crime and were they not pressed into doing so, there was hardly the reason for them to fear retribution. He heard what Bolitho was saying of men and of their relationship with an officer and yet he did not listen to remember this. His heart was set in his ways, a stern and strong belief that the men would not ever trust an officer, but would work as they had to, out of fear.

"..please sir. ..My captain... former captain was a respectable. .. Is a respectable man." He felt as if Bolitho's claims had been an accusation to the person of his captain. Though the man could no longer reach into the waters stirred by Terpsy's passage, it was much like a drill made for his mind that he would speak well for him. Perhaps it was due to the relationship of captain to midshipman, two possitions so far appart.

"I am not attacking your former captain's character," said Bolitho, "I am sure he has his reasons for running his ship as he sees fit. And perhaps, for him it works well. What I am concerned with are the lessons you seem to have learned from him and are now applying on this ship."

His voice had taken on a stronger tone again as he added, "I am the captain of this ship, Mr. De Guarde. I respect your former captain's position on his own vessel. But he is not in charge here. I am, and I would ask you to keep that thought uppermost in your mind. Now then, is there anything else you wish to tell me? Because if that is all, then you may be dismissed."

"No sir.. nothing."Though in his mind he added a thought rather improper of a gentleman towards another. With his voice softer, he said a simple:"Aye sir."And then touched his hat in a nimble 'salute'.

Walking outside the unpleasantry of light had struck his features again, so that he had to steady himself against the wall. Hatefully he glanced towards the men, who were slowly appearing. This promised to be another 'splendid day, he thought with thick sarcasm. He caught sight of Mr. Bush and with that sighting his belief was confirmed.

Despite having his back freshly re-bandaged by the sawbones, Chase was topside and working with the watch on deck. Sitting idle because he'd been flogged the day before was something completely unfathomable. His spirits were reasonably high and he was whistling cheerfully as he swabbed the deck along the larboard midships rail.

"What're ya so 'appy fer, Chase?" Will Taylor grumbled, working nearby with another mop.

Chase grinned at him. "Ain't it a nice day?"

Taylor only scowled and concentrated his glare on the swath of water left on the deck by his mop. Still grinning, Chase dipped his mop into the bucket and went back to work himself. It would be hard to drag his spirits down that morning.

Was it not suspicious when a man who has been flogged just a day before is in the merriest of spirits , which perhaps surpas his feelings even the day that his back wasn't still aching and flayed. The sound piercing the air had the boy flinch something bad. It tore right at his brain, and it wasn't even a piping call. Rather , as it was clear, it was that trouble maker, Chase , all over again!

"...Would you be so kind as to cease with your whistling..., salior!" The youth spoke in a tone that was clearly not asking, but demanding that Chase becomes quiet.
He had dark patches beneath his eyes which were slightly red and squinted in the sun as unpleasantly as if they were attacked by a swarm of bees which tried to sting them. The sun was the enemy to him at the moment, any light despised.

"You might bring a storm upon us.."A belief of whistling to bring winds when becalmed was used, even if the boy wasn't quite sure to believe it. "..with that ruckus!" It was another reason that he despised the whistling even more at the time.. and that was simply the truth that some could mistake it for the call of the whistle. "...You wish ter be in trouble so early.. in the day?!" He hissed, his hands on his back.

The two seamen looked up at the harsh tone of the rebuke, to discover that it was Mister Midshipman De Guarde himself glowering at them. Taylor groaned quietly as both he and Chase saluted the boy.

"Sorry sar, din't mean t'offend," Chase replied cheerfully. "Jus' helps the work go a bit, sar, the whistlin' does. Ain't no wish fer trouble t'all. sar. Too fine a day fer anythin' like that."

He felt annoyed by that cheerful tone, more that he would be if Chase had been disrespectful.

"..I'll be the judge of that."He spoke acidly, though actually rather quietly.
Barely about whisper now, as his head protested uncaringly. "You aren't
here on a pleasure voyage."His eyes narrowed on Chase. "So you'll be
requested to do less of the bawlin' that could have a cat with an
amourous purpose flush and cover his ears, n' more of the working. If ye've
wanted to be a musician... Chase." He atleast knew his name, even if
not on pleasant terms. "You should've taken greater care not ter end up
here!"

Atleast he was pleased with having been given a prompt
salute. Not that he showed that, feeling the two did not deserve even a
glimpse of such a feeling.

"Aye sar," Chase said. "That'd be a fine sorta job, if I weren't hopeless wit' music, sar."

Beside him, Taylor grinned. The notion of Chase being any good at playing music amused him too. "Be a fine ol' shantyman, 'e would, sar. Sure he gotta fair sense'a tune, least when 'e's whistlin'!"

Chase added, "I'll keepit down, some, sar."

"No, don't keep it down..."His voice was far too pleasant and sweet.

"... keep it from being done at all!" And it turned to vile and cold.

He glared at Taylor, feeling that the man was amused by him and not by the notion of Chase's feeling. This had the boy rather more angry. "Wipe that look of yer face."He snapped at the man."'nless you want ter be the next in line. Join your insolent friend here."He motioned towards Chase."..Might have ye more lash's fer t' offence.. or maybe.."His eyes were now on Chase:".. You'd enjoy t' lash some too?"

He paused and smirked all of a sudden. A boy's order was always to be followed. Wasn't it? But first.. He walked around the two men, and with a careless nudge he overturned the bucket so that all of the water spilled. Most covering the ground in the direction of them. He had made sure that the lieutenants (those that he saw) were not facing them as he did so.

"Look at t' mess!...You'll be startin' right back from the beginning. The both of you! N' ye shall not finish, till I say so."He smiled unpleasantly. "And as ye be missin' t' bits here and there.. you shall be usin' a cloth, dipped in the water.. n' ye'll be doin' it on yer knees if ye have t' (or rather they would in his mind) And if yer officer might ask.. you shall tell them it was your choice to do so...Have I made myself clear?" With how he had spoken in a quieter tone, it wasn't many else who could've heard him.