Rebuilding the Ruins; 26th June 1809

"An inch or so left. My left, I mean," Cotton replied, looking at it. "Get it in a straight line with the seam, it'll be all right. An' if you see any tears or anythin', let me know afore you hammer the pegs in - they'll need mendin' afore the Captain can use his tent again." If there were any tears - Cotton hoped that there weren't; he didn't have a sailmaker's palm and needles and wasn't sure he knew anyone who did. And there was no way he could effect any repairs without them.

"No, it looks all right on this side," she said as she attacked the peg enthusiastically.

"Apart from the dust an' ruddy great hoofprints all over it," Cotton said gloomily, and wiped his forehead on his sleeve. "D'you think you'll be able to get them marks off the Captain's shirt?" he added, looking down at his own.

This had been his good shirt, but he knew that Maggie hadn't quite eliminated the bloodstains from the back - it was still possible to see the slight discolouration there from when he'd worn it after being flogged. The cuffs and collar were sweat-stained, too, and he thought it could use a shake in the stream, if nothing else.

Freddie had kept out of the pair's discussion and feigned quite a big interest in the re-erected tent. But now he looked up suddenly with an uncomfortable expression on his face.

"Uh ... pardon ... but ..."

He spread an area of the fabric so that the tear in it was quite clearly visible.

"It has ... stuck on a peg, I think."

"Aye, I think so, I just - oh." Maggie's face fell as she noticed the large tear in the canvas.

"Oh, no..." Cotton breathed, and sighed. "All right, I think we won't be puttin' this back up just yet."And of course that would mean packing the Captain's things up because really, they had to be either under canvas or securely packed - if it were to rain with them in the open... It didn't bear thinking about.

"Maybe we can patch it with something?" Maggie mused as she fingered the edges of the tear. "You got something to sew through that, Gabe?"

Cotton shook his head. "That'd take a proper sailmaker's needle an' palm, that would - it's decent thick canvas, that, same's the Navy uses for ship's sails."

Vickery sighed. He would be sleeping rolled up in a blanket tonight, it seemed. "You might try Sergeant Müller," he suggested, then had a thought and crossed to the biggest box, his campaign chest. Below his neatly stored pelisse and dress uniform, and shoes, there was a canvas-wrapped bundle that his father had insisted be packed along with everything else.

"There you go," he said, handing it to Maggie. "My father is an old campaigner himself; he said it would come in useful one day. I hope you may find what you need there."

"What's this, sir?" Maggie asked, taking the bundle from him.

"Something that my father insisted I bring when he learned I would be bringing a tent with me," Vickery replied. "I have not opened it myself to see its contents, but i am assured that it contains all that is necessary for repairing a tent. Well, to effect repairs to the canvas - I believe rope for new guy-lines and wood for pegs I will have to find myself, should any of those be damaged at all."

Maggie unwrapped the bundle, and her face crinkled into a smile as she looked down at the contents. "Well bless your father, sir!" she said, smiling up at the captain. There was even a leather sailor's palm, though it was massive when she slipped it onto her tiny hand. "Guess Gabe'll have to do it, though his stitches aren't half as neat as mine," she added, sending her husband a grin over her shoulder.

Cotton approached, to see Maggie looking down at a hussif containing, not regular sewing materials, but sail-making materials - including canvas for patching a tent. The sailor's palm on her hand looked enormous, and he grinned. "I'll have to try an' make me stitches as neat as I can, then, won't I? 'Specially if you'm goin' to be cri... crit...

"Criticising?" Vickery suggested.

Cotton nodded. "Thanks, sir."

Freddie's eyes gleamed when he saw what Maggie was holding - especially because she was holding the tools rather competently.

"You know how to ... to repair tents, Frau Cotton? Can I look?"

He batted large puppy eyes. Knowing how to properly mend tents would certainly be a useful thing - he could easily see that it would require some different techniques than mending clothes, with the canvas being so big and heavy and coarsly woven.

"From the size of that sailor's palm, it'll be me doin' it," Cotton said, chuckling, though inwardly he was hoping that he could do it without making too much of a mess of things. "Maggie can sew neater than I can, but I think this'll take a man's strength to do, canvas bein' so thick an' heavy an' all." He grinned at her. "Though I'll take all the sewin' advice you'll give me, sweeting. 'Cause I'd hate for my patch to rip out within two days of me puttin' it in."

Freddie looked around to see if there was anything else that needed to be done, but it seemed that until the tent was mended, everything that could be done had been done. So he went to make what he had started to think of as the most important thing in England - a cup of tea. For surely Mrs. Cotton would want some, and Cotton himself, if he had to do heavy sewing. And perhaps the Captain would like another one as well?

He even broke out his stash of real tea leaves in honour of the occasion instead of his usual self-collected herbal tea.

"Well, it seems as though you have everything in hand," Vickery said, very grateful to his father for foreseeing the potential usefulness of carrying sail-maker's tools with him; he would never have thought of it himself.

He decided it was best to let them get on with the repairs without any interference from him; doubtless Rottlaender, at least, would feel more comfortable without him breathing down their necks, and he had to sort out all his papers - from what he had seen, there were Company papers mixed up with his personal correspondence from home, and they all needed sorting out.