The Passengers' Cabins

"I just wish to check-" came Stephen's strangled reply as he looked about desperately for the Wardroom Steward, one of the officers, a Marine - there would not be any formal occasion tonight, would there, a few miles out of Lisbon? Everyone must be settling down into their normal routine - a normal Wardroom meal, surely-

"Of course I could be mistaken," Padstowe called again. "Being as I know nothing of routine or etiquette aboard ship..."

Stephen darted back to shush at Padstowe, not wishing the entire ship to know of his being caught out if he was so unlucky that he would be expected to arrive in full uniform - if he buttoned up his uniform coat, perhaps no one would notice the state of his waistcoat... And a wig, a wig always covered a variety of sins - any outfit look respectable if topped with a wig.

But as the doctor turned again he collided with a slim figure in navy blue which had just come down the companionway and was making its way towards its own cabin further aft. The figure in question let out a small exclamation of surprise before staggering back into the chairs of the wardroom table.

"Oh, Lieutenant, I am so sorry!" Stephen said, holding out a hand to help him up.

"No harm done, sir," said Leat, taking the doctor's offered hand and dusting his coat down, setting his hat straight again on his head hwere it had gone awry. "Didn't see you coming, that was all."

He frowned as he noticed the expression on Stephen's face and his general air of restlessness.

"Is everything alright, sir? Only you seem a little agitated."

"Fine, fine - everything is quite wonderful," said Stephen with an anxious smile. "But, but my patient is somewhat flustered - he is very keen to make a good example to you of the British Army; I have persuaded him to take some food with the wardroom this evening, and he was unsure as to how formal it will be. He will be more reassured from your own lips, I am sure, if it is possible...?" Another horrifying thought occurred to him. "My word - the invitation to dine with the wardroom applied to all of us, did it not? Pray forgive me if that was not the case."

"It was, sir," Leat said, regarding the doctor skeptically. He may have been in amongst the lower decks for the vast majority of their acquaintance so far, but even as a newly pressed youth Leat had been aware of Dr. Maturin's more than hap-hazard approach to social gatherings. "Else you'd be pretty stuck for dinner tonight - though if the army gentleman is too poorly to sit it out I can arrange for the steward to bring him his meals in his cabin."

"I may have to help him out if sitting upright for too long becomes a strain for him - you know landsmen, Lieutenant; even sitting upright in a chair with the pitch and roll can be a trial for them - but he is most eager to join us, and to meet everyone; prodigiously eager, indeed."

"I suppose the gentleman did not get much society in Lisbon," Leat observered. "With the army gone and being invalided; I expect it even makes our company look attractive. And as for formality, sir, I shouldn't bother yourselves too much. It will only be a small affair, nothing fancy, and no. 1 rig certainly shan't be a requirement - things are still a bit too up in the air to be otherwise, as I daresay you know from experience."

"Oh, thank God- I mean, he will be very relieved, I am sure. Of course, of course - has the departure gone well thus far?"

"Well we haven't sunk yet, sir," Leat said, smiling and automatically rapping his knuckles against table top. "Will the Capitaine be joining us for dinner?"

"I assume so, yes," said Stephen with a smile. "I will find him momentarily, as soon as I have finishing helping Captain Padstowe."

"We had hoped he would," Leat said, moving slightly to one side as the steward arrived to lay the table. "We thought we'd invite one of the young gentlemen as well, though admittedly that is usually the captain's prerogative. I don't think any of them have met a Frenchman before," The lieutenant lowered his voice. "Mr. Bush thought it prudent to satisfy their curiosity as soon as possible, else the Capitaine be made to feel uncomfortable."

"They will of course be reporting back to the rest of the berth," said Stephen with a conspiratorial nod. "I can think of no better model for a first French acquaintance; the gentleman has been nothing but charming since I first met him." It wasn't quite true; that first night had been anything but 'charming'...

Leat nodded in reply.

"He is certainly far more civilised than most of the French I have met so far," he said. "The captain of our last prize took it very poorly indeed; he can't have been any gentleman. I would have expected better from a spoilt child."

"And he managed to retain that civilisation even after spending several years in England!" Stephen said with an amiable smile. "I tend to find you learn more about a man in defeat than in victory. Did you have much trouble with him?"

"Not trouble as such, but what you might call 'difficulties'. I do not know much of events first hand, as at the time I was not quite fit and then Mr. Bush took the prize back to Lisbon; but apparently they had some trouble getting him to give in, even after she'd struck. Went for the captain. And afterwards on the way back he sulked in his cabin, refusing any invitations to dine and took to throwing things."

The lieutenant sniffed in apparent disapproval.

"Not, as you would say, the behaviour of a gentleman."

"Not at all," said Stephen, shaking his head in agreement. "Quite deplorable actions; I would study the psychology of defeat, were the circumstances not necessarily so difficult in themselves. Throwing things, forsooth. Was the Captain hurt at all?"

"He was quite cut about. Mr. Crozier had to sew him up, but as you can see he is right as rain again now, for which we are all exceedingly glad. He's a good captain."

"I am sure; the ship is certainly very tautly run, and all of the crew I have met thus far have been a credit to her. I am delighted that he has recovered with such celerity."

"Quite."

Leat looked slightly uncomfortable, as if deciding whether to confide something in the doctor or whether such an action would prove an indiscretion.

"But truth be told we have had some difficulties of own on our way out to Lisbon. Should you see one of the ship's boys - dark brown hair, blue eyes, about fourteen years old - giving any of the officers dirty looks pray give it no mind. He was until a couple of weeks ago one of the Midshipmen, but he's since been disrated."

An image swam in Stephen's mind; the boy who had watched when he had fallen between cutter and ship, who had watched with an indiscreet amusement and malicious glee. "I have seen the boy; he has a spiteful set about him. I assume from your words that this was more troublesome than the usual squeakers' disciplinary problems."

"You could put it like that, sir," Leat said grimly. "His last captain, and consequently his only captain, was a right black character and De Guarde - that's the boy's name - has rather followed set. He was a right little tyrant from the start; having a man in my Division brought up for flogging on a trumped-up charge barely an hour after stepping aboard. Prowled around the men he did, waited to use any word, good or bad, against them and setting petty punishments and tasks. I know it sounds pathetic for a boy to cause such trouble, but the men cannot do anything to defend themselves, and we could not be watching him all the time. We found that bending him over a gun did not work, so Mr. Bush, Mr. George and myself requested of the captain that he be disrated."

Leat shrugged, an expression to suggest there was nothing else to do.

"He was making the men afraid to do their duty; not to mention making life unpleasant for the other young gentlemen. He was setting no good example to them at all."

"With a hierarchy as enforced as upon a man-of-war, it does not sound pathetic in the least, but a very real worry; and an example of correct behaviour in the midshipmen's berth is always important," said Stephen with a nod. "The solution seems to me, with an outsider's eye, to be eminently sensible." He wondered if he would ask about the other midshipman, the haunted Yates, but decided not to - discretion came more naturally to him by far.