The Morning After - day

".... He .." On his other ship it would not matter what the sailor said, for a middie's word would always count ten times more, but now he was faced with a dillema. He did not know what Chase told Leat, and the lieutenant was hardly having a heart for him, but he did seem to care about Chase. He was on the other hand a midshipman whereas Chase was not, and was subordinate to his whims and desires. And technically his word should mean nothing in the eyes of others, when it went against an officer's.

But did Mr. Leat live by that rule, or would he be more leniant towards the seaman?

"...wished for more work sir, he was right merry to swab the deck. ..And I was sure the Heads were needed of cleaning as well. So I suggested and he went to do so." He looked confident with his answer.

"I am sure," the lieutenant said. "That you are aware from your last ship that sending a topman to clean the heads is considered a grave insult by the men."

"He was willing..." Stubbornly.

"Yet you chose to suggest it."

The lieutenant leaned forward in his chair.

"I do not know what Captain Adams told you about the men and how they must be treated; but I suspect that it was something along the lines of comparing them to ignorant and savage beasts. They are not, Mister De Guarde; they are men who are here not often by choice to serve their King and their Country, and to put their lives in danger in the process of doing so. It is our job, as officers, to see to it that they do it with good will. They are skilled men who have their own code of conduct and self-respect. Cruelty on your part will do nothing but make them sullen and unwilling."

Much like yourself, he thought, acidly.

"I was not cruel sir." He lifted his gaze to meet with the lieutenant's. He looked boldly at him, for he felt offended by the notion as true as it may have been.

"Is it their right that they endanger our lives then? Have they been permitted to treat the officers.. future or present in a manner that one could call attempted murder? Code of conduct.. self respect?... should it not prevent them from thinking ill thoughts?.. But it did not. Savage beasts would throw one who doesn't pamper them into the pit... but not.. the men.. that would be noble in their meaning."

Injured pride of the child was enough to fuel him into a response, greater than few words. "I was not cruel.. but they were. Death by drowning... when I could barely be aware of myself.. let alone how to swim." He paused and his voice shook when he added:"..And if I knew how to swim..it would take days.. long days till I would die.. for you would not find me and would not be able! Do you not call that true cruelty? Savagery.."

"No, it is not right," Leat said flatly. "Do not think for a moment that I condone the actions of those who took it upon themselves to harm an officer - but you should learn that in order to expect deference and fair treatment from your men, you have to treat them fairly in return. I warned you that it was foolish and unnecessary to have Chase flogged, when perhaps a lesser punishment would have done, if any was required at all; yet you did not heed my warning. More worryingly you have gone through such a destressing experiance, yet it does not seem to occur to you that caution in dealing with the men at this stage may be prudent. For until we find out who is responsible, it would be unwise to deal rashly with any of the men."

"Sir.. do you thus suggest that I do no duty as officer, for fear that I may anger the men?"He was appaled and shocked by such a thought."... For then they shall be encouraged that in their ways... their own cruel ways, they may achieve peace and in that also that midshipmen will loose authority against them."

He looked away. He was still upset and he wished to leave. It was clear that he himself was not in trouble.

"No, I do not suggest that you do not do your duty," leat pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, cmaking sure to clearlu ennuciate each word. He was clearly not getting through to De Guarde, which did not bode well for any of them - either the boy, the lieutenants, the captain or the crew. "I merely suggest that you pursue the opportunity for punishments with less zeal. Do you understand me?"

"..Sir.."He bit his lip angrily, thought he let little show to the lieutenant."...I have had only one,.. deserving, man punished. Rightfully.. so." he looked away."... Is there anything else sir, or may I leave?" He looked forced, the anger seething beneath the surface, while he attempted at his fullest to contain it.

[On deck, not in the Lieutenant's cabin, of course]

Edrington had woken during the night, hearing the feet running when all hands were called. He had woken enough to remember it - the effect of more wine, brandy and coffee than usual - but had been amazed to be informed while breakfasting that the ship had had an unusual emergency. The midshipman de Guarde had fallen overboard in the night, but had been recovered safely. But although Edrington had waited for someone to comment on this remarkable coincidence, no one had, the ship's officers keeping their counsel and keeping their secrets from being displayed to the Army.

Now on deck, taking the air, he recognized the nervous anticipatory mood. He was probably right then, and foul play was suspected. It was not unknown in the Army, either, although one normally had to wait for a battle to get rid of unpopular officers.

"No, there is nothing else," Leat said coldly. It was not as if de Guarde would have listened to anything else he might choose to say. The boy looked close to tears. "You may go."

"Aye aye, sir."
He barely remembered to salute, before he turned on his heel and walked to the door. He walked out feeling even more angry with Leat. The lieutenant had no idea! He couldn't have had it, else he would not suggest such atrocities, not speak to him in such manner and on the topics that just made no sense with his perspective in mind.

He briefly caught sight of Lt. Bush again. He would yet have to approach that man, and he already feared their first encounter. But then which lieutenant, which officer here did not instill fear in him right now? And which, not hate? Perhaps George was still in the clear, but solely as they have not encountered each other yet. He felt as if the whole ship had turned against him and so he decided that he would sure teach them. Not the officers directly. Boy, he knew that was suicide. But the sailors, who had to take the brunt of his...

.. the sight of the youngest middie of the bunch distracted him. He smiled pleasantly. Anything that Leat has told him just a short while ago seemed to have evaporated into thin air. Any warning or suggestion that he should be well to the others , not punish them or probably not bully them either, was gone from his mine.

He came towards the young innocent Fletcher. A different approach would have been taken ofcourse. Not the kind of bullying done with the sailors. But more a play of intimidation. The naive could be lead, the terrified patronized, and mr. Fletcher had a ration for him, that Mathew wanted. Something to ease Mathew's mind, since Leat had troubled it.

John felt a sharp elbow in the ribs and turned quickly to his companion, "I've got a knife in me hand, don't I?" he grumbled, waving it under his nose. All he got was a smile and then his mates head nodded over to the rail where Mr de Guarde was walking, headed straight for Mr Fletcher.

"Well, this can really only go one way, can't it?" John asked, turning back to his small block of wood. "D'You think we aven need to get any closer? I bet I can tell you what he's saying already."
Viciously, John hacked off a corner of the carving, then swore as his thumb started to bleed.

Fletcher looked curiously at de Guarde when addressed. At first he seemed naively glad that the other had come and looked positively friendly. Perhaps he expected that the boy was finally more acquainted with the new ship and was not more at ease and would no longer be the bully that the sailors hated. The start indeed was pointing into that direction, for Mathew's voice was laced with the most pleasant sweetness. It dripped of honey before a hand came to the boy's shoulder. No man could see that the fingers were actually digging painful into the youth's flesh, and unless one was well versed, they could not know the post that they pressed was particularly uncomfortable.

The words spoken in whisper seemed to have had the boy submit to the older, shy and fearful of his peer. Then there was a gentle pat, after the boy nodded, and even a smile was given to Fletcher. Which must've confused him for he looked baffled at first. His cheeks were flushed and a sparkle of light may have indicated that the boy had nearly cried, but was too proud still, that he would make a sound anybody could hear.

A light pat on Fletcher's shoulder made the boy stiffen at first, and then relax with a somewhat uncertain chuckle. Whatever had been said up till now, it was something satisfactory to Mathew, who looked pleased.

"Well that beats all" muttered John, around his still bleeding thumb.
"He ain't yelling or growling or anything. He's just talking nice and calm like. But whatever he's said don't seem as friendly as you'd like to hear after such a night."
Disconcerted he pulled his thumb out of his mouth and inspected it. A flap of skin was there so he did what any mane would do an wrapped it in his grubby handkercheif to wait for the skin to die, so's he could pull it off.

The two boys parted, one hurrying away, this being Fletcher, as if he was going there with purpose of retrieving something. The other turned and saw the sailors gathered idly on deck. It was another invitation for the sour faced boy. A provocation after a provocation that was bound not to end well. Had he not learnt from mr. Leat, not listened to his voice of reason? And to his warning that he ought to be dissuaded to continue with his ways. This ship was different after all, and yet in the minds of the Midshipman it was only more wretched, less organised, less disciplined and much less proper.

So it was the many heads together that drew the youth's attention, when any other would not have minded it being seen. He walked with swift and abrupt steps, an erect posture, stiff back and hands at his back like a miniature Napoleon (just a play of words please , no other relation) on the march. He stopped before them then and so a handkerchief in one of the men's hands, clutching at the finger which was bleeding." ..What do we have here."He spoke acidly, his eyes narrowed on the other men, as if demanding that they disperse, while he would deal with this 'troublemaker'.

"Well sir, all we've been doing is taking a breather, like. It's not that fresh under th'boards, you know."
Watching the young face darken John glanced down at his now even dirtier handkercheif. "Oh, you mean this here cut sir? Well, I was just starting a carving piece- I thought I'd make it into a spoon or something, girls always like them and sometime you can sell them on shore to their men- and I was hacking off a corner when I was elbowed" he glared at his mate, "and cut meself. Thats all that happened here, sir."

John tied the handkercheif more tightly round his thumb and resisted the temptation to raise it and look at it. That would surely start the bleeding again, if it had stopped. He was pretty sure it had though.
He tried a smile at Mr de Guarde, who didn't seem likely to smile back.

"Enough!" He barked at the man, his eyes glaring at John with the fierceness of a tiger ready to strike it's least desired opponent. And then there was that smile that felt as if it were mocking him. He most certainly believed so. The blasted creature who thought that he was playing smart to think up such a story. Elbowed, was he? And he were to believe him, like a guilable fool?

"You've been trying ter make yourself unfit for duty, that's what yer were doing." He hissed. "Trying to cut yerself so that you would be excused, what a fine story you made there. He elbowed you, you've been doin' it all fer ye ladies ashore?.. To sell. Curse you, you were NOT!" His eyes held no more, that feeling of suffering and anguish that was provoked earlier by the Lieutenant.

"A liar, a bloody liar!" His voice had calmed, his demanour composed, but it was that in which case he seemed perhaps more scary even than before, for he was cold looking, calculating, evil.

"What is your name?" He spoke, his voice unpleasant, dangerous.

John shrugged inwardly. In all honesty he knew it would be a long shot to get Mr de Guarde to even listen to him. he hadn't expected the youth to jump to the conclusion he was trying to put himself out of duty. Who ever would do that by cutting his thumb anyway? John knew several other, easier ways to get out of 'duty'.

"John Westdale, sir." he said, looking straight ahead now. Being called a liar was hardly the worst insult, but to be thought a liar by Mr de Guarde was hardly a good thing. no-one had really wanted to be singled out by him.

John shifted his feet slightly, twisting the handkercheif again. If he did it much more, he reckoned the whole thing would go black. That'd stop the bleeding, he grimaced.

"Now , Westdale.. Do you know what punishment for commiting to perform inflicted injuries on yourself, is?" His eyes were narrowed on those of the man as if daring him to snap back, to do one single wrong move which would cost him. He saw the finger against which the handkerchief was twisted. What was he trying to do, to infect the wound or perhaps to greaten it. Surely he had caught him in the act of minor injury, before worse could come to worst.

"Can't say I do, sir. sorry sir."
John tried to stand absoulutely still. It seemed whatever he did would get him in trouble, but maybe if he did very little, he'd only get into a little bit of trouble?

"Then, Westdale.."He spoke his name with scorn, as if it were a disgusting pittious thing that he was mentioning:"..would you like that I enligthen you?"

He looked at the other men. Now who was here the one in charge again? Huh? No longer as brave as during the night, wer they! No longer daring to harm him and throw him over board. Who was now in charge ?! He was, that's who it was.

Thompson could see the middy having a go at another sailor He couldn't move from his place by the quarterdeck steps... but one of the ship's boys came past. Heaven knew what he was doing so far aft, but Thompson risked it, taking a pace and putting his hand out to stop him.

"Go and find Mister Leat for me, lad. Smartly, now."

He resumed his position as the boy gaped at him before running for the hatchway.

"Aye si, I should llike that very much, if you please."
Well, two could play at grovellin like petty crims, and who was he to deny a young un his fun then?

After the confrentation with De Guarde, it had taken some time for Bolitho to calm himself down. His patience for the boy's antics was wearing thin. The midshipman had already caused more than enough chaos aboard the ship. If he was not careful, De Guarde would throw the entire crew into disarray, and what would happen then? Bolitho had tried to be fair, tried to make the boy see the error of his ways before it was too late. But apparently, it was already too late. Why, of all the ships in the fleet, did that tryannical midshipman have to be sent to his? The boy needed to be reined in at once. But the question was...how was he to do it?

With all these thoughts spinning in his mind, the only thing that became clear to Bolitho was that he needed to go out and get some air. He would go mad if he stayed cooped up in the cabin too long with such worries on his mind. Taking up his coat and hat, he put both on before finally opening the door and stepping out into the sunlight.