Reporting Suspicious Bumps in the Night

He knew he could trust Button--and Evans as well--not to say a word, even without asking him not to. But Bolitho wanted to be sure that he would keep silent about the matter. At least until there was some more substantial evidence upon which he could act.

"Very good. Now then, unless any of you have anything further to discuss, you may be dismissed."

He could go? But there was something he needed to know first.

"P... please, sir," he said, shaking a little at his own forwardness in talking to the Captain like this. "P... please... If I fin' out the names... c... can I tell 'em to Mister Evans, sir?"

Because really, he wasn't going to be able to approach Mister Bush on his own. He'd never be brave enough - and a ship's boy talking to the First Luff? If Mister Evans hadn't asked on his behalf, Terry would never have been able to tell any officer... let alone the captain.

He fiddled with his hat nervously, unable to look up from the bright pattern of squares on the deck at his feet.

Poor Button. Bolitho understood his apprehension, of course. Speaking to the captain was akin to speaking to God on a ship, even more so for a ship's boy. Doing it once was an impressive enough feat. It was plain that Button did not want to do it again.

"Yes, of course." Bolitho nodded at Button, then turned to Evans. "I will be obliged if you would then pass said information on to myself, Mr. Bush, or one of the other officers."

He was to be an informant of sorts, eh?

"Aye, sir," Tide said.

"Fank you, sir," he mumbled, flushing scarlet. He hadn't quite meant it like that, but there was no help for it.

Please could they go, now, before he did or said something really really stupid? The Captain probably already thought he was stupid for dropping his hat, and he could get much worse than that, if he wasn't careful.

"Good. If that is understood, then you may both be dismissed."

"Aye aye, sir." Tide's mind was working furiously. He knew that second man Button had described. He knew he did. But who in the hell was he?

The quartermaster turned and waited for Button to precede him out of the cabin.

Terry somehow remembered to salute before turning, nearly falling over his own feet as he did so. He pulled the door open, nearly running out of the cabin in his eagerness to get away, back to the safety of the foc'sle... or even one of his own private secret hiding places in the hold.

He never wanted to do that again. The Captain had seemed nice enough, but all that gold lace on his dark blue coat... It was like talking to God, really. If God looked like a man.

Bush watched as Button scampered out of the cabin, followed by Evans. He waited until the two had disappeared before turning to Bolitho.

"A bad business, sir," he said in a low voice, "I know De Guarde has made a nuisance of himself on quite a few occasions, but I cannot imagine anyone truly wanting to end the boy's life. If we do learn the identities of his attackers--"

"I know, Mr. Bush. I know. But I will tolerate no criminals aboard my ship. Any man guilty of attempted murder will be given what he deserves," Bolitho said firmly. "Now then, was there anything else you wished to tell me? If not, then you may be dismissed as well."

"Aye sir."

With that, Bush turned and left the cabin himself.

Oops. He'd forgotten to mention it to the captain. He tugged nervously at Mister Evans' jacket sleeve. "Um... the other man, the older one - 'e 'ad 'is queue tucked in 'is belt," he mumbled, going pink. He'd made such a fool of himself in there - whatever did the Captain and Mister Bush think of him now?

He wanted to be dismissed and go and hide somewhere till the officers had forgotten all about him.