11th June; On Styles

It was Andrew rather than Thomas who answered, though Johnson doubted the latter twin had any strength in his tongue to speak right then.

"I gave him that, 'cause he nicked me shoes. He were wagerin' with Jonny Seward, maintopman, larbowlins." The lad's defiance had not lessened, apparently. No matter. A few strokes with the boys' cane would take the starch right rout of him.

Wordless, Thomas nodded his agreement with his brother's statement.

~

Dyer was still standing beside Andrew, now completely forgotten, but he was feeling increasingly disgusted by what he was hearing. So Seward was up to his tricks again. Except this time he'd gotten mixed up with a Marine. Not just any Marine either, but one of the drummers. What the hell was it with Seward and bullying on the youngsters aboard? And a Shepherd, no less! This was something Chase needed to know. Sooner rather than later!

Sewell's brows furrowed as he took down the details.

"He nicked your shoes, so you retaliated by hitting him", he summarized. Not something that should happen - both the nicking and the hitting - but something that could happen between siblings, he supposed. "So this is not in any way connected to the gambling, and you swear that you had nothing to do with that?"

Which left of course the question of how he knew the name of the other gamblers. Sewell also wanted to know what Dyer and Oxley were doing here, but he tried to sort out one offence after the other, and this one looked easier to close. There was also the fact that taking shoes wihtout permission was not making things look better for Thomas. However, the lad looked pretty shaken by now, and Sewell started to feel somewhat sorry for him.

"Which it ain't," said Andrew flatly. "This idiot gets up to that sorta trouble all on his tod."

Johnson frowned. "Which it ain't, sir," he corrected.

Sewell gave the drummer a sharp look to support Johnson's correction. While he did not care for the address for personal reasons, some measure of order needed to be kept. And the boys better learned that soon, before it wasn't rectified with the cane, but with the rope.

"Noted. Corporal, that is all that is to say about the fighting? Any mitigating or aggravating circumstances we have not heard yet?"

He did not know the drummers that well, but he hoped Johnson and Thompson would indicate in which light this affair needed to be presented to the Captain.

"They get on well enough, gen'rally, sir," Thompson allowed. "An' they ain't... malicious, like some folks I know of."

"I don't know any more as regards it, sir," Johnson answered. Nor, if truth were known, did he care.

Thompson thought for a moment. "Can't say as I do, neither, sir," he said.

"Alright. We won't need to trouble the Captain with this, I think."

He turned to Thompson.

"All Marine boys and a cane ready after the gambling is cleared up. Six strokes to the posteriors should make it sufficiently clear that I will not tolerate Marines fighting each other - even if they are underaged and relatives."

He fixed Andrew with a stern gaze.

"The next time your brother or anybody else borrows something without asking, you will resolve this in a civilized manner, and if this is not possible or if it becomes stealing, you will report the matter to Johnson or Thompson. You will not raise your hand against a shipmate again. Is this understood, young man?"

"Aye, aye, sir," Thompson replied firmly - there was no other reply possible, and it could have been a lot worse than six strokes, of course. He wondered vaguely how long the lesson would hold, however.

And of course there was the more serious matter of the gambling, too.

The hint of defiance had not left Andrew's face. He gazed sightlessly at a point over Johnson's shoulder and said, "Yes sir."

His brother was doing his best to maintain what little composure he had left. Thomas' own acknowledgement was considerably quieter and less sure, but at least it was audible.

"This one up before the captain before or after his strokes, sir?" Johnson wanted to know, nodding meaningfully at Thomas.

Oxley shrank a little, trying not catch anyone's eye and possibly make them think he'd been mixed up in this - he hadn't, this time, but Johnson had seen him give those coppers to Young Tom and that skirted a bit too close to being mixed up in things for his comfort.

He wasn't looking forward to watching the caning, either.

"After - there are some things unclear yet. Andrew Shepard, until we call for you again, you are to stand watch next to the gunroom sentry."

That should keep him near, but out of earshot. Sewell hoped that splitting the pair up would make it easier to get answers from Thomas, not just from his surly brother - and Andrew would have time to contemplate what was to follow.

"Thomas, I will call the incident with your brother's shoes borrowing, but next time I hear anything like that, it won't be the cane for you. It will be a court martial. So back to the gambling. Corporals, who gambled with whom, for which sums, and what are Dyer and Oxley doing here? And why isn't Seward?"

Thompson took a breath. "As I got it, sir, Thomas Shepherd was gamblin' with one of the seamen, name of Seward. It was summat to do with gun drill, he says, ain't bin clearer than that, an' he lost the bet to the tune of... two shillin's, he says. Oxley's here 'cause he give him a ha'penny for cleanin' his crossbelt."

So the boys said... Thompson was sure he didn't believe that story for a moment. And they really should have sent Dyer off before the officer arrived. Bugger.

When Andrew had gone, Johnson eyed Thomas irritably. What were the chances of this rascal actually outing truth? Non-existent. That's what.

"Seward's a bad'n," Johnson commented, deliberately not looking in Dyer's direction. "If he's anythin' to do with this, he'll have other things doin' too."

Thompson nodded in agreement, glancing in Thomas' direction. "I ain't got to the bottom of how or why he got to bettin' with Seward, sir, but Thomas is the steadier of the twins, so I reckon it's most likely to be Seward's fault more'n Thomas's."

Or at least, from what he knew of them, Thomas was the steadier of the two - it wasn't easy to tell them apart, the two being identical twins, but Thomas was the one whose kit looked better cared-for and who seemed to be the slightly more responsible of the two.

Sewell scribbled for a moment, then tore off a page and handed it to Thompson.

"Alright. Thompson, my compliments to the lieutenant of the watch, give him this, and Seward has been accused of gambling. I'm going to talk to him and take a look at his things before he can hide any evidence. Then get Seward down here. If the Captain is up, the same to him, and if he would come down to deal with this at his convenience. Oxley, Johnson, Thomas, with me - let's see his seachest. Dyer, you come along as well. Why are you here?"

This was a much better result than Johnson might have hoped for. He waited a beat before answering, aware that Thomas was now looking faintly green. "Shepherd named him as his accomplice before his brother put matters right."

"Aye, aye, sir!" Thompson took the paper, found his hat and headed for the quarterdeck, passing Ware on the way.

Like Oxley, he did not have the right to walk the quarterdeck. Unlike Oxley, he had rank and the nerve to pass the quarterdeck sentries, which he did, deliberately approaching the officer of the watch, making it plain he had an errand.

He saluted. "Mister Sewell's compliments, sir," he said, only managing at the very last second to change it from 'respects'. "An' he sent you a message, sir, about one o' the hands." He held the paper out.

Mowett looked Thompson up and down rather quizzically on taking the letter from him. Smoothing it out in his hand, he read silently for a few moments - then went over it twice to make sure he'd taken in its contents completely.

"Thank you for bringing me this, Thompson," Mowett affirmed, nodding. "Tell Lieutenant Sewell I shall be present at the interview. Perhaps maybe we can get this damned business over with quickly. But do tell me, discreetly - what kind of man is John Seward?"

"He'm a d... a nasty, ill-tempered sort, sir," Thompson said. "Likes pickin' on the younger ones for no reason I can make out - was flogged for it, too, only yesterday, though it would've come under Article Thirty-five."

Which Article wasn't exactly specific, of course; only the people directly concerned would have known exactly what he'd been flogged for.

"Shall you come down now, sir?" he added. If so, he'd follow the officer down to the messdeck.

"Seward better watch his step; he thinks he can pick and choose what he does? Not when I'm aboard this ship. I'll come down now, but I need to pass my watch over to Mr Chandos." Mowett was about to turn away but thought better of it. He looked at Thompson intently, "Thompson, don't I know you? If I recall, you served aboard the Surprise at one time?"

"Aye, aye, sir," Thompson said, and nodded as the officer turned back. "Oh yes, sir... about four years ago, round the Horn. Didn't think you'd 'member me, sir."

He offered a salute. "I'll go an' tell Mister Sewell you'll come then, sir," he said.

Mowett once again nodded to Thompson and excused himself to so he could hand over his watch. He strolled along the quarterdeck towards Midshipman Chandos. "Mr Chandos. I'm going below to sort out an infraction with a crew member. I hand over my watch to you."

Mowett exhaled with some relief and straightened himself out as he turned and strode purposefully towards the steps the companionway. Now there was Seward to deal with as smoothly as was possible.

As soon as he was dismissed, Thompson turned to head back down to pass the message on to Mister Sewell. He was not particularly looking forward to the outcome of this, as Thomas Shepherd was in his squad and was thus his responsibility, but he'd had plenty of practice at discharging a distasteful duty.

"Mister Sewell - Mister Mowett says he'll be right down, sir," he reported, meeting the others back on the messdeck.

Mowett headed below quickly, so as to not waste more time than he already inevitably had. He was still finding his way in this new ship with a completely different crew. Even though he'd been aboard the Terpsichore a few days, he still half-expected to turn a corner and bump into Killick, the rather grouchy captain's steward in his former ship.

He shook the very thought away with a shake of his head, and hurried briskly along the mess deck to meet with Lieutenant Sewell and Thompson as they came into view in the dim light...