The Passengers' Cabins

"Maybe not at home; but in foreign lands there are things we must be wary of. They have more poisonous snakes, scorpions, bears, wolves, vultures and giant centipedes..."

"I have gone to those lands, Jonathan, and I have yet to see an animal as cruel or as inventive as the human." He settled back in his chair, thinking. "Although cats perhaps come closest."

"Cats aren't cruel!" Padstowe replied, a slight tone of hurt perhaps to his voice. "At least not overly cruel - and only to the vermin we want them to get rid of. The kitchen cats at home were perfectly civil and affectionate creatures - if inclined to sleep on the clean linen in the laundry baskets from time to time, even though they knew they should not."

"You cannot take the measure of a person - or a cat - by how they treat their equals, or their superiors, but by how they treat their inferiors, and those they have in their power. I have seen cats torture the creatures they intend to eat, for pleasure, and I have seen humans do the same."

"And not necessarily do they intend to eat them afterwards," Padstowe said, gazing at the blanket over him. "But on the whole cats are not bad creatures."

"On the whole I do not think humans are 'bad' creatures either."

"No," Padstowe gave a halfr smile. "Although they quite often do a good impression of it. But I have not met a 'bad' man aboard here so far. They are all quite pleasant fellows, if a little smothering with their care. It's certainly a very different experiance to my last journey by sea."

"They have been nothing but courteous, and very kind," said Stephen. He thought of his own shipmates' smothering with a smile.

"To put it mildly," Padstowe returned the smile. He wriggled a little within the cot. "Although I do not believe they needed to tuck me in so tightly - or so high."

"If you are so weak that you are unable to untuck yourself, Jonathan, then we are in dire straits indeed," Stephen said, shaking his head and jerking the blanket out and back.

"Not entirely," Padstowe said, having thanked Stephen for his help. "I managed to free my arms down to my waist, but when I tried to untuck my legs this whole contraption swung so precariously I feared I might fall out. I decided it would not hurt to leave if be for a while."

Stephen nodded; after Mahon he hated to be restrained, even by a blanket in kindness. "You will get used to the swinging; in time you will probably find it relaxing."

"Is that why they called it a cot? Because of the rocking motion?"

"I do not think so; it is from the Hindi, I believe - a khat is a couch or a hammock."

"How intriguing. You learn something new everyday."

Padstowe glanced up at the ceiling, peering speculatively at the deckbeams above.

"Whereabout are we on the ship? I know you said we are next to the wardroom, and somewhere aft - but I'm not sure which deck exactly."

"The wardroom is right aft - at the very back of the ship - and it is on the mess deck - in front of us are the Marines, and then the sailors. We are below the waterline now, I should think."

Padstowe looked up at the deckbeams again. Somehow the thought of them being actually under the water did not comfort him as it seemed Stephen thought it would.

"I hope she does not leak much."

"I am sure she does not," said Stephen with a smile. "You must have traveled by ship before?"

"I have, but not often," Padstowe said. "And usually on merchant ships or transports. Also before I was confident that if the ship sank I would be fit enough to get myself out or swim to safety."

"Well, I am not so prodigious a swimmer myself, so if you drown you'll have company."

Padstowe gave an amused snort.

"Thank you; I shall endeavour to be comforted by that thought."

"I am glad of it," Stephen said with a smile. "So you will join us for dinner?"

"I suppose I shall," Padstowe said, with a good impression of theatrical suffering. "If I am to eat at all tonight."

"Which you are," said Stephen pointedly.

"Which I shall," Padstowe repeated flatly. "I never asked where your cabin was."