Day Trip

"But sir!" Chase burst out and was promptly cuffed alongside the head by Mister Evans.

Mayden touched his hat and ran for the relative safety of the oversized carriage. He didn't even dare ask where the horses were.

"I am, sir," Cartwright answered. "Lieutenant Cartwright, Royal Marines." He offered his hand to the other redcoat, who accepted it with a nod.

"Captain Blackwood, Second Guards," the man said.

De Guarde had went in at some point and was now taking the whole of the line of the seats in the back, stretched out and asleep. He'd brought a blanket with him to cover himself, and a pillow, taken from one of the rooms, for his head.

The men had been told to come down, but they were not doing it quick enough for Bush.

"All of you get down here on the double!" he demanded, "You've been told to come down once already! If I have to say it again, there will be serious consequences!"

He was greatly embarrassed that the men were making fools of themselves not only in front of the Captain, but in front of the army officers as well. They certainly did not need to make the army think any less of the navy than they already did.

"Movin', sir!" Evans cried, slithering down off the carriage roof by way of an open window. Chase was close behind him and both sailors scampered directly aboard the carriage in the same way as the others had ahead of them.

That was not good. Oxley slipped down at double speed, nearly skinning his hand as he did so, and dived for the safety of the open door into the carriage.

Branning found himself staring at the Marine in the strange long-tailed coat. "What're you doin' in that rig?" He asked incredulously. "Ain't you got a proper jacket an' hat?"

Bolitho shook his head. The men had already been acting up enough to have been told off by one of the army officers. This trip was shaping up to be a fiasco.

"I apologise for their behaivour," he said, coming over to the army officer--Captain Blackwood, apparently his name was, "They are good men, but they can become rather rambunctious at times. This place seems to have that effect on many, I've noticed."

"Oh, my hat," Oxley muttered once he was relatively safe from Mister Bush's wrath. "He's a mort pissed off, an' no mistake!"

Blackwood managed a grin. "Quite all right, sir. The men will be themselves often in spite of circumstance." He shrugged expressively. "I am only unsure of that one fellow in the long coat. He may, perhaps, prove unnecessarily troublesome."

"This is a proper rig, Sarn't," Mayden responded. "Been this way fer years."

Thompson swallowed, realising he was going to have to run a gauntlet of officers - and one of them the Captain, too. He snatched off his hat and set his face into the blank wooden expression he usually wore when on sentry duty, and made straight for the door of the strange carriage.

Branning blinked, uncomprehending. "What?"

Quinn came out, blinked a couple of times at the sight of the strange vehicle outside, but wasted no time in taking charge. "Right, you lot can sort out your differences aboard. Jump to it and get settled - you know the officers go last and they won't want to be kept waitin'. Beggin' your pardon, sirs."

"Quite alright, sergeant," Bolitho said to Quinn, "Just make sure they get on in an orderly fashion, please."

He was hoping to avoid any further incidents. At least until they reached their destination.

He offered Bolitho and the other officers a belated salute before turning to try to bring some semblance of order the things. "You heard the Captain! An orderly fashion - handsomely there! And don't go pushing!"

Typical. One young scamp had taken up almost the entire back seat, and Thompson was pretty sure he knew who it was.

He walked up the narrow gang-way and paused when he saw that his suspicions were correct. He poked de Guarde in the side. "You ain't goin' to take up five whole seats on your own for the whole trip, are you?" he asked, looking down at the lad.

Already aboard, Branning barely heard the fuss going on outside. "I'm not a sergeant," he said.

The lad squirmed and swatted away at the offending hand. "Hmph." He squirmed to have his back facing the marine and curled his hands back against his chest sighing contently. "N' if I am?" He said sleepily, probably not even very aware who had decided to bother him while he slept, or what for.

Blackwood watched the Marine sergeant put affairs swiftly in order. Sergeants were generally good at that.

"Shall we, gentlemen?" He said, once the men had been shepherded aboard at last.

Thompson poked him again. "You'll end up walkin' the whole way, else," he said lightly, though he wasn't even sure how far they were from the place they were to visit. "Either that, or I'll sit on ye, an' squash ye flat, how's that sound?"

"Course you is," Mayden told him, choosing a seat just ahead of Branning. "I 'member you. Off Falcon sloop, an' all."

Quinn looked between the officers. The redcoat officer who had just spoken looked like an Army officer rather than a Marine, and he saluted respectfully. "It goes in order of seniority, sir," he said. "Senior officer is last in and first out, beggin' your pardon."

"Mmh.. careful when ye sit.., m' chest n' belly of limits, .. can try ter sit on me legs." The boy murmured and covered his side with his hand, a scowl clear on his face. "Though if ye go pokin' me one more time i'um goin' ter kick you half way cross t' bus." He yawned and stretched a little more.

"Of course," Cartwright said. He touched his hat at the other officers and stepped quickly up into the carriage.