19th May: Supper - Down below with the Tars

" 'Orseshoes got good luck down in 'em, see," Chase explained. "Down 'tween these 'ere ends. S'why we 'olds it up this way, so it don't all fall out."

Dyer nodded and added, "Stays that way when we nails it to the mast, too."

"Alright. 'think I get it then. So we nailin' our luck on t' mast today? Don't see no reason why we shouldn't. 'fter all, if it's luck in there, it couldn't bring us a storm, aye?" He shrugged. "Unless is bad luck in good weather and good one in bad?" He lifted an eyebrow for he hadn't ever heard that one , like.

"No, not today," Chase told him. "Ain't a storm up just now, is there? We'll stow it 'til there's an actual blow, then we'll nail it up."

The other seamen were nodding, grinning broadly.

"Ah, alright'. N' then wot' we be doin' now?" He asked Chase, for of the sailors he'd felt to tag along more after him than others. Not that since Chicken Dyer did him a great favour, that he did not feel in debt to him. And Chase as well as some others - who got him his clothes back and his hammock up -, though it was the earlier mentioned man that got him out of sight of the many. And so he earned something extra.

"Who's storin' it?"

Chase pointed at Dyer. " 'E will. Ain't likely to 'eave it overboard."

"I wouldn't heave it overboard!" Seward burst out indignantly.

De Guarde stiffled a giggle and took a step more to the side so that Chase was inbetween himself and Seward. He grinned at the man:" Wasn't it ye did summat like that , already?" He asked innocently, giving Dyer a short nod and a smile.

Seward gave a very tiny jerk and glared at De Guarde. "That an accusation?" He snapped.

"It weren't anythin', so shut up," Chase said, pushing Seward back half a pace. The others were staring at Seward warily.

De Guarde blinked and fought the urge to take a step back, rather standing his ground. "Ye heard wot' I said." He murmured, his light blue eyes looking rather icy for the reaction had made him feel wary of the man yet again. "...I meant nothin' more than that." He added.

"Right," Seward sneered. He pushed away from Chase and stamped away.

Chase didn't look sorry to see him go. "Blockhead. 'Ere, Dyer, stow this in yer sea-chest." He handed the horseshoe over. "C'mon lads, what about a dance or somethin'?"

"A dance?" De Guarde watched Seward go. He turned back to Chase, thinking he might best go as well, not to disturb the Tars while they were to have their own fun.

A dance would be all fine, but he was also tired, and as before these men were not intending to invite all about, he so thought. There was also but an hour of leisure, almost fully ended for their watch. After, that the 2nd dog watch in which they would participate.

"..very well so. I'll be goin' restin' a wee lil'."

It wasn't much to shut his eyes for such a short time, till they were called back on duty, but he decided it would do better than anything else. Retreating to where the chests of sailors were stored - his and Chase's really - he picked out of it a shirt and a pair of slops, rolled it up tight and neat. Not yet time for Down hammocks , not till the end of the second dog watch.

He curled up as small as he could atop the chest, tucked the cloth under his head and closed his eyes, being as swiftly out of it as if he had been shot. If nobody woke him, he did hope to wake himself up. Have that damned watch and then come down with his hammock and sleep in it. The later would do fine.

Rest? Chase's eyebrows drew together quizzically, but De Guarde was already moving away from them.

"C'mon then, let's go find Timlin," Dyer urged. There was a murmur of agreement and Chase nodded.

"Hope 'e ain't broke 'is fiddle yet!"

De Guarde had wanted to participate in a skylarking at some point, yet with how the day had been he was struggling to make his decisions and keep his mind anywhere but on rest. Going for sleep felt natural. He shifted a little where he lay. Sleeping perhaps did, but lying on a chest did not. With a grunt he turned around again. The floor would be no better. There was something nagging at his mind, but since he had little idea what exactly it was, he ignored it.