Leaving Lisbon

"I shall," Raoul smiled back. "And that - if you can do anything: I will explain that it is your medical opinion on his wounds that will be the argument you use - and that if he is to go back to France my family will make a home for him. I think that will make him happy. He will not starve or be without a roof..." He caught Dr Maturin's elbow and steered him into the left of the two roads that met at that point. "This way, I think."

"Well, what else would it be, mon capitaine?" said Stephen, allowing des Sablières to lead him down the right path.

"That you ..." Raoul hesitated then finished, with a glint in his grey eyes: "Nothing else, of course, my dear doctor. Except that you admire him for his courage and loyalty, and, I believe, that your prayers for his survival recognize that because of him, I am here to plague you."

"I meant, how else would I influence an exchange?" said Stephen softly. "But you are right; I admire him a great deal."

"That you might do so as a favour to me ... But that was a foolish thought," Raoul said carefully. "Your status, as a physician to the Army and the Navy, will give you the influence to get your opinion heard, of course. But it is as a physician that it will be given."

"Not foolish," said Stephen, "but I do it primarily for him."

Raoul looked around, as if checking his route, before smiling at the doctor. "Thank you. He deserves something better than what happened to him." So, he thought, did all those who had died, to escort Ickx to see the spy Prideaux. He blinked then said, with a squaring of his shoulders: "There is a cozido waiting for us... Doctor?"

Stephen flinched at des Sablières' words, unconsciously drawing his shoulders in. "Yes."

There was a silence as they walked up the hill towards Santana's house. Raoul was aware that his own thoughts and words had breached the understanding between them, but unable to repair it, said, in a practical tone: "How will we get Captain Padstowe to the ship? Indeed, do you think he will be happy to learn of your arrangements for us?"

"I hope so," said Stephen. He stood up a little straighter. "Yes, I am certain of it. I am sure he will be glad to be with his friends again, even if it will be less comfortable in tents and wagons than a house. As for getting him to the ship... I do not know yet."

Raoul hoped he would be - the alternative was rather unattractive, particularly with Dr Maturin's reminder of the dangers of attack from stray elements of his own side. But there was the street he remembered, with the sun still slanting off the blue door, and the red tiles.

A sea voyage would be good for all them, he thought, as he knocked. Especially for Dr Maturin.

Stephen gave an awkward smile, but plucked at his guernsey while he waited for the door to be opened. A weight of worry was settling in him - what if Jonathan did not wish to go on the Terpsichore? He would have to grin and bear it, he thought, but he was not comforted. Why was there such a distance between he and Padstowe, such a chill - he did not think he had exhibited anything that would indicate that to be his wish - quite shamefully the opposite, in fact. What if he could not have Thierry sent back to France? Would des Sablières blame him? Why did it matter so much? Was he becoming too involved?

Padstowe had again spent the day attempting to improve his writing. He was getting better, slowly but surely, and couild write three or four lines in a tolerably readable hand. He still did not have his journal; yet in order to give his practice some purpose he had started to record some thoughts on sheets of paper in his own personal cypher.

I am feeling much better today. This morning I walked a total of four-and-twenty paces between the kitchen and my bedroom with some assistance from Stephen. He has been most kind and attentive with me, even though I have given him so much trouble. I wonder sometimes whether it is because it is his duty to do so as a doctor - sometimes a look or a sigh he gives me indicates that it must be. Yet he at times he seems to seek further intimacies with me. He has confided much, yet he has said nothing.

When I think back to the time we spent together away from Lisbon I find myself yearning for the ease of manner that existed between us. It seemed as if we could talk about what we liked, could confess or decide anything and our friendship could only strengthen... Yet since we have returned and fallen into the company of others we have grown apart; become almost as strangers again. I regret it extremely... He is troubled, has some great sorrow weighing upon his soul besides his work - I can see that it wounds him deeply; yet with every attempt I make to ask him I am met with a verbal rebuff. I cannot help him in return for his kindness, and such a situation hurts both me as well as him.

However, it seems he has found a confident with Capitaine des Sablieres; yet I wonder how wise it is to place his trust in an enemy, even so honorable and enemy as des Sablieres..."

Senhora Santana opened the door to them, and the smell of cooking drifted out, causing Raoul's smile to widen with pleasure. But Santana gave him only the briefest of glances - though with a smile, he thought - before she turned her attention onto the doctor, looking child-like in his oversized guernsey. She scolded him, at the same time dragging him inside the house. Raoul, who could not understand anything in her rapid Portuguese, nevertheless thought that the phrase "What would the neighbours think if they saw you like that?" was almost certainly part of it.

"What would the neighbours think if they saw you like that? You smell of salt and dirty water, senhor, you stink of it - no, this may certainly not wait until after we eat - as though I would allow you to sit at my dinner table with you in that state! No, the crozido needs to simmer for a long while yet, and we will heat some water and you, senhor doctor, you will bathe - what were you thinking?! Anyone would think you had fallen into the Tagus! Very well, very well, you may see your capitao, but don't you dare stand next to the windows!"

Stephen flashed an amused smile at des Sablières as he escaped, Santana going to heat some water on the fire, and they went into the front room to give Padstowe their news.

The front door opened and by the sounds of the half-overheard scolding in the hall Padstowe guessed that the capitaine and doctor must have returned from their excursions. He laid aside the pencil and paper, and smiled as the door from the hall opened and Stephen walked in... only to adopt an expression of disbelief when he saw what the doctor was wearing.

"Stephen!" he exclaimed. "What happened? Whatever are you wearing?"

"Um..." Stephen began, taking off his wig and scratching at the back of his head. "I am rather ashamed to say that, whilst visiting the harbour, there was rather a misunderstanding as to how much aid I might require upon embarking onto, or I should say into, what with these differentiations that seafarers are so very particular about-"

"You fell in??"

Padstowe's disbelief was clear.

"What were you doing down at the harbour in the first place? I thought you were going to Dr. Crozier's house."

"Yes, I fell in," said Stephen, peeved. He sat down, sulkily crossing his arms. "He was at the ship, thus we went there also."

Padstowe shook his head in something like despair, but sensed it was unfair to criticise further.

"I hope after all that you found him," he said instead. "Did the Capitaine return with you? Senhora Santana has been chattering about him all day; she is still rather surprised that such a gallant Frenchman exists, hoping that he won't have though her too inhospitable at first, and that the attic was warm enough for him..."

He smiled.

"She has taken a special care with her crozida for him. I am beginning to feel jealous."

Stephen smiled back. "I am glad - yes, he did return with me, he should be in the hall - she is a dear Xanthippe. I think she is heating water for a bath, after my, um..." His smile widened into a grin. "And I have good news."

That made a change.

"That is indeed welcome. What news?"

"We can catch up with the army - perhaps overtake them - within a week." Stephen was delighted to be the bearer of good news for once. "We have been offered a lift aboard the Terpsichore; we leave tomorrow."

Padstowe stared at the doctor for a moment, his mouth slightly open.

"Truly?" he said, a small note of hope creeping into his voice as he heart quickened slightly. He did not know whether he dared believe such news.

"Yes, truly, all three of us" Stephen said, beaming. "They go to join the blockade around Porto - a Lieutenant I knew from the Lively and Mister Crozier offered to take us with them once I explained the difficulties of our case, the Captain agreed, and we can be landed as soon as they are able to come into the city. We leave on the evening tide - you will be ready by then?"