Leaving Lisbon

"The blunt end, sir," Leat prompted gently.

"I think I know which end of the ship is is which, thank you Lieutenant Leat! I have been sailing for nearly ten years now - "the blunt end" forsooth..." Stephen muttered quietly for a moment before remember that he was in fact to be a guest on board the Terpsichore. "A very fine ship," he mumbled by way of reconciliation.

"That's very kind of you, doctor," Leat said diplomatically, quietly wondering whether Maturin had finally found the right ship.

Maturin had, and it was larger than he had expected, and alive with last-minute repair work going on. "Will we take a boat across, as you were so kind to suggest?"

"We shall, sir," Leat said, smiling. "There's bound to be one of ours about..."

With that he nimbly picked his way down to the quayside amongst all the various smallcraft of chandlers, bumboats, peddlers and sailors. He came to a halt at the water's edge, tucked his bag under his arm, cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted, with a surprisingly loud roar from so slender a figure; "Terpsichore!"

"Come along, Capitaine," Stephen said quietly, taking des Sablières' elbow so that he would not be separated from them in the busy dock. When they caught up with Leat, who as a sailor was of course better at navigating than himself, Stephen was surprised to see a small boat already approaching them.

Leat turned and smiled as the two others caught up with him.

"Won't be long now, sirs," he said cheerfully.

Stephen smiled in return. "Are you sure the doctor will not mind our visit, Lieutenant? I know how busy a ship is the day before sailing."

Raoul was looking curiously about him. This part of the shore had been taken over by the British Navy, with their ships moored out in the channel and the dock busy with boats carrying passengers or stores out to them. The boat summoned by the lieutenant was already nudging at the foot of the stone stairs.

"Not at all, doctor! I'm sure he'll be thrilled to see you both."

Stephen nodded with a grateful smile, then leant forward to whisper to Leat. "Sir, is this one of your boats, or a harbour one?"

"Why bless you, doctor, it is one of ours!"

And it certainly was, as all the faces of the oars men that peered up at the three men were the weatherbeaten, open countenances peculiar to sailors of the British Navy, and all were wearing their shore-going blue jackets and varnished hats with the name of Terpsichore embroidered on a ribbon around the crown.

Stephen nodded, relieved that he would not have to pay for the passage across. He looked at the men, and one caught his eye - he squinted against the bright afternoon sunlight. "As I live and breath - John Lakes?"

Raoul settled the saddle bag more firmly on his shoulder, and followed the Lieutenant down the stairs. One of the oarsmen - presumably the one the doctor had called to - was looking up, his face creased with surprise and pleasure. "That you, Dr Maturin? Are you comin' with us? Take care, Sir, we'll have you aboard in a trice."

"I am, I am - a flying visit," said Stephen, delighted. "Please to be careful with my companion - he is a landsman. Are you waiting to collect anyone or anything?"

Raoul accepted Lakes' hand to step from the rather slimy stair onto the boat, keeping a tight grip on his saddle bags - all he possessed at present. Lakes settled him between two seamen, and offered his hand to the doctor: "No, Sir - we come for Mr Leat, and an' anyone else who's wanting to go across - we've been back and back all day! Stores and ..."

Stephen took Lakes' hand and put one foot in the boat, his other slipping of the step and causing the whole boat to wobble dangerously, and Stephen was only saved from falling into the dirty harbour water by Leat catching his other arm and pushing him towards Lakes. "Got you, sir, not need to fret - you just sit here now," he said and Leat stepped in gracefully after him.

Raoul turned his head to smile at the doctor as the boat rocked. But he was safely conveyed to his seat, and once the Lieutenant was aboard the young midshipman - the very young midshipman - gave the orders in a high voice, and the oarsmen bent forward and back. The child was clearly steering the boat, which avoided all the other small boats, including some almost awash with the weight of their cargo, and Raoul watched as they approached the frigate.

Stephen and Leat talked quietly about their old shipmates while they drew out across the harbour - "Prime, prime; he is married, as you know, and has two little girls now" - and the midshipman called out as they drew up alongside the ship.

Raoul looked up at the side of the ship, curving out. His previous experience of ships had involved walking up a gangplank from the dock onto the deck - this was ... The seaman beside him put his hand on Raoul's knee. 'Officers first, sir. You just wait - we'll get you up all right. No fear." The young Lieutenant stood up and climbed swiftly and elegantly up, disappearing from view.

Lakes, quite used to Stephen's foibles after the Sophie and then the Polychrest, placed a supporting hand on his back. "Up you go now, Doctor; be sure to clap on with both hands - Billy, Tom, hold your arms out for Doctor Maturin! - and Pat and Dick and me'll help you up from down here-"

"Your soul to the devil, John Lakes - have I not been sailing for nearly a decade now? As though I cannot even come up the side, like some grass-combing lands-" said Stephen as he tripped on the gunwhale, and fell between the boat and the ship with a splash.

With a yelp, Billy Barrow jumped into the water to retrieve their visitor.

He peered over at the sound of a splash and found himself grinning as it seemed a new arrival - of which there was earlier much word - had just managed to land himself nicely in the cold water. He stiffled a bemused chuckle at the man's clumsyness. A landlubber for sure. A wet one. He saw the second splash and reckoned it was one of those few men who could actually swim on this ship. Barrow.

Raoul stood up and was pulled down by the seaman next to him. "Lest you can swim, sir..."

"I can," he said, but before he had done more than strip off his coat, a sailor leaped from the ship into the water. Raoul moved to the side, peering down, already pulling at his boots, in case more help was needed.

Thompson was on deck as one of the work parties. He heard a splash, followed by a second one as Barrow dived into the water - and there was De Guarde leaning precariously over the rail. He caught hold of the boy's trousers.

"Don't lean over so far, or he'll have two people to rescue, not just one."

He shook his head, not releasing his hold just yet. Whoever ad gone in that first time must be a complete lubber.