19th May: Supper - Down below with the Tars

Westdale nodded, "Aye. He shouldn't a been wondering on his own. But," he was being fair here, he knew, adn he'd probably get in trouble for it, "Yer can't blame him fer wantin out of his little shared cabin, can yer, now. tEr be stuck in t'same place when he's never been on a proper naval vessel, not sa'prised he's wantin ter wonder."

He grinned, "can't expect his contry men ter know what a proper ship is."

"Aye, but if yer an enemy.. yer don't go pokin' yer finger in a wasp's nest, do ye?... Even a child knows that. If he had ter be goin' at all, he's got two of 'is own ter go with 'im. Or he'd have asked for an escort, a marine on his tail. Fer both his n' t' safety of us. Especially going down like that, out of sight and to a place that holds summat precious! But better he didn't go there at all."

He was accepting Westdale's view, and supplying him with his own, almost on equal grounds for them both. " Up on deck t' officers can see him,.. n' he can't be all sneaky there." He crossed his hands over his chest.

"See wot' I mean? Wouldn't let an enemy's man go 'seein' how our stores look like. Even if he's as curious as a cat and as tame as newborn kitten!"

Of course there was truth in that, and WEstdale wasn't saying he was right, either. He realised he probably looked a little startled and hastily nodded his agreement, "Course yer wouldn't."

He was being talked...to. THey were discussing something like civil human beings. COuldn't blame him for being a little surprised, though he tried to accept it as somethign normal, not make a big fuss over it.

"Mind yer, it'd be easier if we could get a look at t'enemy like that. All that learnin' just sitting there, waiting fer us ter pick it up."

"Aye... wait.. yer mean that t' enemy, the Frog is learnin' our trade? " It hadn't accured to him earlier, but Westdale, if that was what he meant, did have a point. If they were able to go about an enemy's ship, the enemy's quarters and learn how they worked, they too would learn valuable information to share with their own, or use at a later time.

"...'s not too far from would could be 'appening. Even worse, that." He nodded again. "...Can't do anything 'bout it..if officers let 'im prance about like a general's horse." He smiled at the comparison.

"Jus' hope he'll be more confined now. No free goin' about.. that's what he needs. Don't trust the word of a Frog. None, ..eh?"

He hadn't meant it exactly like that, just because he doubted all the information the man could be gathering would be in a form he could remember. Took a proper seaman to understand that, after all.
"Well, mebbe he ain't learnin everything, but he could pick up bits and peices easy enough, couldn't he?"

He smiled too, at the idea of a generals horse going everywhere it wanted on board, instead of just causing havoc in one place. "I'm sure he'll stay where he's put, now, though. He's alearnt his lesson...and everyone knows not ter trust his words, too."

"Not everyone I'd say.. if they did, he wouldn't be let up at all.. but I heard he'll still go. Just with someone at his stern at all times." He glanced at Westdale's hand, remembering the cut, how deep it had been.

" 's causin' trouble.. is what it is." He shook his head rubbing an arm with his other, wincing. " Hope he's not gettin' his hands on any of our signals, or any of t' information that's not concernin' 'im. We'd have our cap'n in darn trouble if that happened."

de Guarde was showing signs of a long day, and Westdale sympathised with him there, though he hardly felt it himself, having been spared too much exertion.
"WEll, they have ter take his word as a gentleman, don't they, otherwise they'd get treated even worse, if..t'worse should happen."

He hastened to add his own assurances, unfounded though they may be, "t'captain knows where ter keep them signals, I doubt he's been carrying them about t'ship and leaving them nice and open fer t'frog ter take a look at. He's not a man ter do something like that, yer know."

"Didn' he jus' go 'against his parole?.. he's struck a marine, no?"
He rested his chin against the palm of his left hand, wondering if he would need someone to stir him awake once he was curled up in his hammock. A pleasant thought that, much better than the memory of dirty cauldrons atleast.

"I know he'd not leave a book lyin' about.. 's just. T' Frog had earlier been free to wander about, who knows where he'd slipped to, beside the horses. Who knows where he'd had done, if he was not found."

He shook his head yawning, a hand to his mouth in a polite gesture.

"Well, all we can do is keep n' eye on him when we see 'im. And if he does anythin' funny, make sure he's locked up well this time around."

He looked up at Westdale, studying his face. "..Did you hear wot' they'll do with doctor Crozier? or 'um caught any whift of what ...that drummer boy had ter do today?" He did want to know, if only to be sure he didn't go lightly through the day.

"Dunno much about it, but I guess he's at least limited it, having struck a marine, aye."

He caught the yawn off de Guarde, sitting and stretching as he did so.
"Course t'whole crew will be keeping an eye out, and they'd know if someone tried ter get inter t'cabin, when they weren't supposed tr be there." In his own mind, at least, those documents were perfectly safe, and would remain that way unless they were boarded, and even then only in very very bad luck.

"Ter Doctor Crozier? I heard doctor Maturin would be doing an operation, chopping his head open and fixing it up, but I ain't been down there ter take a look." ANd he doubted he'd be welcome, either, hanging about and likely getting in the way. Although the temptation was there, good and strong.

"Choppin' his head open?" For a brief moment De Guarde tried to imagine it, but perhaps disliked the image that thought brought. "... Won't that be killin' im sure and certain?.. Ain't nothing right to be mingling about one's head...Well not too much I'd say!" Reminded of the bruise covering his eye and the cloth pressed to it.

"Wasn't a good sight of 'is head.. yer know. Lots of blood about where t' horse struck him. Didn't see better than that. 'least he was breathing n' all.. but not awake, as yer must know. " He shook his head again. The doctor hadn't looked good at all. The injury was grave and there was perhaps little hope that he would live. Well he wasn't a doctor himself, so perhaps his judgement was far from a good kind.

He hadn't heared nohting about Oxley, but decided not to ask again. Instead his thoughts wandered to the dangers they may soon be facing. "...Think we'll sight a Frenchy again soon?"

Westdale shrugged, "He's done it afore terday, and t'man lived."
But perhaps de Guarde wasn't so keen on discussing blood over food. Some men were strange like that. Most women, too, he'd found, but that was to be expected.

"I dunno about having a frenchy in sight." he admitted, although he hadn't any problem with it. "Fer t'sake of Doctor Crozier, I'd hope no, fer he shoudl be undisturbed as much as possible. BUt..." he grinned down at de Guarde, "Fer t'sake of t'rest of us, I'd not mind seeing one now."

"I'll have ter see summat like that to believe it." He smiled. Sometimes stories were more far fetched than a man's own abilities. Quite often what was said to have happened was only in the slightest part true. "Head's one a thing.. sewin' a limb of,.. 's dangerous but many lived after that. As long as it ain't a break too high, I think, or an injury left ter rot."

He nodded at the thought of their doctor having to suffer a full broadside while in such a state. It was better that the Frogs waited. Mind, if they came there was no doubt that they would engage and fight the enemy till the French were defeated or some other action would need to be taken.

"I'd like ter also." And from a Tar's point of view, it would've been so much different. "..Dunno how's..it fer you, that. Won't miss out on this 'un, though!"

Westdale had forgotten that de Guarde would effectively be in his first action with them in his new position. It could be interesting, although at least it wouldn't be his first time in a battle, so there wouldn't be too many surprises.

He was quick to add, "No sign of life out there, though, so mebbe we won't have anything ter worry over fer a while yet."

"..Sayin' it n' yer calling it." He sighed heavily, and touched both hands to his temples. The idea that he was a mere Tar still felt foreign and wrong, but as at of the moment, he was trying to adjust to the situation, though grudgingly so.

"..how's it from your point of view?" He asked, knowing that he was giving Westdale the knowledge that he hadn't known something. Asking whether there would be rain the next day was one thing, but admitting to ignorance left the youth feeling much less at ease. "The battle..ye'um t' ones firin'. n' bein' shouted at..n'..." Fighting side by side with the officers, obeying.

The very admitance was one which westdale blinked over, moving his shoulders and settling back to cover his confusion.

"Well..." he was unsure of how to explain, "We do what we're told." he began, "of course, cause that's how it works best." He thought for a bit, scratching his arm, "THere's t'danger of a gun tripping us up, course, and getting fired at, but yer'll know that already. It's..."he grinned, remembering, "It's a good feeling."

A good feeling? He tried to imagine himself, not in the shoes of a midshipman which he had taken as a given thing, but as a man on the other side, giving no orders but following all.

He wasn't sure whether what he saw in Westdale's expression was confusion or surprise, or none of those emotions that he had labeled them to be.

"Will they place me with a gun crew?" He hesitated then tried gather some of his confidence, feeling too bare with his questions, perhaps as equal as the fact that they were both Tars made him.

"..Tell more, if you will." He turned to his plate with a purpose. Last he needed was to be ridiculed. Last he wished was to admit that he was asking and not demanding something from a Tar, an equal.

"Ye'um prefer t' firing.. or bein' in a ..boardin' crew?" Not that he could choose neither when the order came.

Westdale shrugged again, "Dunno where they'll put yer, de Guarde. Either yer in trouble from shot and yer own gun, or yer defending yerself but in trouble from someone elses."

He Considered the question, uncertain. "Afore I got this back here, I liked ter board more, but now, I think t'guns." He shrugged a little, bemused by the change in the style of questioning.

"I see." Those kind of questions did leave him more at ease. Somewhat.

"Yer not as able ter move with it, aye?" He motioned to the back and was reminded of Chase's own, flogged raw by a dozen lashes that he'd ordered. He bit at his lip. He didn't feel that he should regret the whole thing, just that he remembered it.

"Wonder wot' our Frog would do, if 'e saw us engagin' t' French. Would 'e try ter help em somehow?..We would have ter have him chained to be sure! N' if we'd have it as prize.. it'd be a fine thing he'd see that!"

He nodded softly. " See we'um t' better ones.. lords o' t' seas!"

Westdale nodded, "Aye. Hurt it a while ago and it ain't been t'same since."
He grinned as he added, "But I'm lucky ter be about, and it coulda been worse."

He grinned a moment. "We're lords o't'seas, or at least, I don't own anything else! That frog, well, we'd have 'im below decks, for sure, to make sure, if nothing else."

He added, yawning, "can yer imagine what'd happen if t'captain let him stay up? T'marines would get him back under as soon as they could, ter start with, fer revenge"

"Probably yer right. Well, ..." He shrugged: "They couldn't really tell between a Frog n' a Frog." He knew that wasn't quite so, but it held a certain message with it's meaning, an excuse possible to say at a later time: " N' if he'd done so much as raised his hand he'd be thought ter be joinin' his fellows to fight 'gainst us. And ain't nobody but a fool who'd knowingly turn his back to a Frog.. even if it's a tamed one. So.. sort of, even fer his own safety it'd be better he'd stay below.. " Not that he'd care for safety of an enemy.

" Isn't smart ter anger t' marines tho' .." He smiled. "Not if ye'um a Tar , let alone a Frenchman on parole. Ain't safe, ain't smart, ain't nothin'. " He thought of Thompson and decided that you neither tried to anger a friend. There was something he might need to ask, odd as it was. No action to be taken against the marines even with what Oxley had done. He wondered if, if he hadn't known the few of them lobsters, he'd have thought the same.

"N' Tars,.." He looked up at Westdale. "There's too many of us ter be safe .." He'd realised he'd said us instead of them, but hoping that Westdale hadn't heard, he continued : " if ye set yer foot wrong with any."

Westdale continued his yawn, gleefully stretching, but stopped abruptly. Us? as in Tars, or as in middies? He eyed the face opposite him but merely nodded.
"Them marines'll teach him a lesson, soon as they're allowed." he agreed, then continued, "Well, we try an' look out fer each other, yer mean? If yer hurt one of us, yer have us all ter answer fer, I guess, yes. Normally, anways."

He remembered a few men who'd failed at getting that support, for reasons best left undiscussed, but there seemed to be some hope that de Guarde wouldn't be one of them, all of a sudden, "We've gotter stick together, anyhow, else we'd never get anything done properly, would we?"
Mulling that last sentance over he realised it could be taken as mutiny, but it was out now, and he had meant it in the most innocent of meanings.

"I guess. " The boy didn't rise to the accidental ruse. Usually it would've been enough that some Tar would do as much as look at him funny or less then in complete submission and even then it could've been considered an act, mockery.

He looked at Westdale then took a bite from the food that had been served. He had to chew it a good deal, before he could decide to gulp it down.

"..Wot' d' ye think of t' marines n' Tars?"

"Well, they aren't t'same, are they? I mean...a marine, he can't sail t'ship, and a tar, he don't wear a silly uniform like that."
Westdale wasn't sure whether the question was leading anywhere, so continued, "They're here ter do different jobs, aren't they. Which means they can't be as friendly as tars can with each other, or marines with each other. It'd mess up t'order of things, if they was."

He blinked a little, adding generously, "That don't mean they can't be mates, I guess, soem marined with some tars. But there could be..problems later on, couldn't there?"

"They'um not silly uniforms, yer know." He interjected, then grew silent, letting Westdale continue. It felt odd that he realised he agreed in some areas of what Westdale just said, and would have supported it fully as a midshipman. Demanding that a marine and a Tar would never mingle or become mates as one. But earlier as a midshipman and now Tar, he saw himself placed in a different perspective. He wanted to continue being a friend with a one such Terpsy, even if he was a marine and even if such form of friendship could pose a danger towards the officers , in his eyes. Not from him, that is, but if Other Tars did the same as he.

It soon became confusing, and so immersed was he in thinking, that he had forgotten to chew, and stopped so, his eyes somewhat distant. After a moment he lifted his gaze to meet the Tar's.

"I guess.." He answered vaguely and shrugged. "...Must.. depend of a Tar and a Marine though. I mean, if a Tar's not prone ter want ter cause problems..." And not many did to an excess of mutiny. Sure they were rough men and thus he couldn't expect them to be flaw free, but disputes amongst them were of common nature.

"..Well,.. they'um not wearin' silly uniforms. They'um look smart in them, n' intimidatin' n'.. just like they mean business."

Westdale frowned. They looked smart in them uniforms, but they were mighty uncomfortable, and they'd never get him into one of them, that was for sure.
"O'Course, if t'chance of any...problems cause of work were removed, then there'd be less of an issue. In a happy ship llike this'un, fer example, there'd be little problem. But if yer was in a different one, then yer'd want ter steer clear of anything what might get yer in trouble."
He clamped his mouth shut. By all accounts de Guarde knew what an unhappy ship was like and didn't need him babbling on.