Preparing to sail

Crozier sprang up lightly beside the doctor. "Never fear. We have a comfortable cabin waiting for him and he can go below immediately, no standing on ceremony. He can pay his respects to the captain later."

Stephen smiled at the surgeon's thoughtfulness. "That is very good of you, dear sir - we are both very grateful."

It made Crozier feel embarrassed. He cleared his throat. "Yes, very well. Ah, here's the capitaine."

"Stand by, sir!"

Padstowe braced himself as the sailors above on deck took the strain and heaved on the ropes, hauling the bosun's chair upwards. The nmen had lashed the captain in tightly, but still Padstowe gripped the ropes, his knuckles turning white as he was lifted into the air.

And the sailors were taking the strain and carefully raising the bosun's chair and its occupant. As his head came level with the side of the ship, Quinn took a breath.

"Royal Marines! Present... arms!"

Three sharp, crisp movements brought the Marines to the present and they stood motionless as the redcoat Captain came aboard and was lowered carefully so he could step onto the deck.

"Present... arms!"

An unmistakable army command, and Padstowe acknowledged the salute with as smart a salute he could manage as he unsteadily set his weight onto his legs - though thankfully he was still being half-supported by a couple of sailors, so he could make his salute to the quarter deck without keeling over.

Cartwright kept his pleasure at Sergeant Quinn's initiative well hidden. He saluted with his sword as the Marines brought their muskets up to present arms, the movement smooth and practised. Thus far, he had seen no fault with or reason to complain about the Marines' presentation. If Quinn's easy assumption of command of this minor ceremony was anything to go by, he was the man responsible for the detachment's state of good order. That thought embarrassed him, for it meant that the previous officer may been ineffectual.

And... bugger it. He'd just given an order, in front of his own officer, without letting Lieutenant Cartwright even pretend to give the order.

He'd been practically running Terspy's Marine detachment for too long, and slipped into a bad habit of just taking over. He hadn't realised how much Brandeson's drunkeness had affected him, and therefore the other Marines aboard.

Crozier hurried forward to take the redcoat captain's arm. "Come, captain, we have a cabin prepared for you below. The men will bring down your things, too."

Raoul remained in the boat until it was clear that Captain Padstowe had been hoisted on board successfully, and then climbed carefully up the ladder, grateful for the help offered by the sailors. With any luck, everyone would have dispersed before he came aboard, and no one would notice him.

Stephen lingered long enough to make sure that des Sablières was safely aboard. "I shall not be a moment, Capitaine - I must see Captain Padstowe to a cot, and then we shall present ourselves to the captain."

Raoul smiled back at the doctor. "I shall wait here for you." He clasped his hands behind him, and watched the redcoated Marines disperse, with barely a backward glance at this enemy invasion on their deck.

The exchange was overheard by the surgeon. "Oh, follow us, capitaine. We have a cabin for you too next to Captain Padstowe." He was acutely aware of all the eyes of many seamen on their little group, particularly on the man in the French uniform, and knowing the sailors and all their collective moods, Crozier could feel their distrust and even animosity.

Stephen nodded in appreciation to the marines with a smile as they stood down, and fell into step with Crozier and Padstowe. "Two cabins? That is really very good of you, sir; thank you kindly," Stephen said. Even without the issue of discretion, it would be the rudest thing in the world to decode the stolen papers in front of des Sablières.

"I should present myself to the Captain, before settling myself into a cabin." Dropping his voice, he added: "I am an object of curiosity, but it will be better once they see that Captain Bolitho accepts me. Do you think your sailors will throw me overboard? Surely not."

Crozier smiled reassuringly. "Of course not. They know that you are our guest." He did not want to abandon the Frenchman on deck, nor did he trust himself to interrupt the captain, but he also wanted to show his guests to their cabins, feeling a sort of proprietary claim over them all. "But... the captain is very busy, since we're about to weigh anchor I think, and Captain Padstowe and the doctor will be paying their respects a bit later. Let me show you your cabin and then Lieutenant Leat can tell us if it is convenient to speak with the captain."

Raoul glanced up at the quarterdeck. "It seems most discourteous to me. And I should like to watch them weigh the anchor. A strange phrase - you would think that they would not need to weigh it again, unless they are worried that bits have fallen off while it was in the water. If I am safe here, then I shall remain."

"Of course. Yes." He smiled again and looked around, spotting one of the midshipmen overseeing the securing of the boat. "Mister Kinsella, will you keep an eye on Capitaine des Sablières for a few moments? Show him what's going on, and don't let the men knock him overboard in their hustle and bustle," he added with a grin, trying to emphasize to the Frenchman that he was not under guard or viewed with suspicion.

Their guests were all aboard safely, at last. Cartwright waited until the last man, the Frenchman, had gone past the quarterguard before dismissing the assembled Marines. They fell out smoothly and tramped back below, leaving Cartwright largely alone by the entry port. Later, he intended to speak with Sergeant Quinn about the detachment's routine and the various habits the men were likely to have.

For the present, however, he knew it prudent to idle around topside, as the frigate's captain would most likely wish to introduce his guests to the ship's officers.

Quinn had paperwork to ready for Lieutenant Cartwright's inspection, as well as making sure that everything was in order. It might be highly irregular for an officer to be posted to a ship part-way through her commission, but Quinn was determined to give Cartwright the benefit of the doubt and see how he would shape up. Hopefully, he would take more of an interest in the Marines than Brandeson had, but the Marines would have to do their best to help the officer settle in.

He headed to the Marines' berthdeck, which seemed to be in order, and headed down to the arms locker to check that everything was in order and ready to be handed over.

They were dithering. If wholy in his right mind Padstowe would have seen the reasons why the two doctors and the capitaine worried about courtesy and priority - after all, it would not do to offend one's host before having even left harbour - yet he was not in his right mind, and he felt like screaming at them to get a move on.

He did not do this, however, but merely tighted the grip of his good hand on the arm of one supporting sailor, desperately trying to keep himself from falling, a soft groan escaping his lips at the torment and stupidity of it all.

"We are going as quickly as we might be able to," Stephen whispered to Padstowe in Portuguese. "But I do not know the layout of this ship, or where they plan to 'stow' us. If you had taken the dose of laudanum as I told you to..."

"No," Padstowe said shortly, if somewhat weakly. It was bad enough having to appear in such a condition before the navy without making himself sicker in the process. "No, I will not take it. Can you not get them to move on?"

"They have been extremely gracious, Captain - a little gratitude would become you better." Stephen looked angrily at Padstowe for a moment, before softly relieving the sailor he was leaning on, and switching back to English. "Clap on to this rope now."

With the guests aboard without any further incidents the boy retreated somewhat. The horses needed seeing to in a few. He narrowed his eyes on the French Hussar suspiciously. That was the enemy parading on their deck.

Other faces were there stealing glances at the guests while most continuing with their work. They would be setting sail now, raising anchors, careful not to have them bash against the side, once out of the water. Securing the boats as well, there would be sail work to be done.

De Guarde sought out Chase from the crowd, and scampered closer to where his team were to group. He still glanced at the French man and the injured Redcoat and briefly to where the doctor was. A Frog. And he paraded about as if he was a free man!