The sick bay

"Then something perfectly delightful must have happened to make you smile so smugly while your surgeon is in such danger. Pray tell me what it is; I could do with the cheering."

"Oh.. but it hadn't just happened." The boy answered simply. "It is a memory of what had, that brings me joy and amusement." He gave a light bow.

"Please to give me the details." Stephen stared at the boy, fury showing in his eyes. "Raise that bandage, De Guarde."

De Guarde met with the doctor's gaze, narrowing his eye on the pair. "I can't sir. 'tis bound n' I can't quite see how to unbind it." He answered placing a hand at the edge of the cloth that covered his skin.

He had to drop his gaze at last, though as stubbornly as any known child he lifted it again, with the added confidence given. "I'm also afraid I cannot give you any details, though..." He hesitated a moment, the corners of his mouth being tugged into a smug smile "...you might have been witness to it yourself."

Mr George, coming to see if Dr Maturin required any equipment or hands to help, stopped in amazement at the unpleasant insolent tone in de Guarde's voice.

"De Guarde," he said. "Do not you dare say another word, or it will be you tied to a grating and flogged this time, for insolence to an officer. Get below, and clean up the horses' stalls. And if you are caught idling again - remember, you are subject to all the normal discipline of a foremast jack. Now, on your way!"

He turned to the doctor, whose fury and exhaustion were plain to see. "Do not worry, Sir. If he returns here, against my orders, he will be placed in irons until the Captain can deal with him."

Thompson acknowledged Doctor Maturin's orders with a meek "Aye, aye, sir" that sounded quite wrong coming from a Marine and slipped into the sickbay, where Doctor Crozier was, for the present, lying in one of the sickbay cots. He looked very white and still.

And there was Bridgens, doing something with a length of bandage. He found a chair and sat down, to find that it was a little too low to allow him to see the injured surgeon. He frowned before hopping up to sit on the work table.

Well, if anyone else needed to see Doctor Maturin - or, more likely, Mister M'Clure, Thompson could shift off while they were being dealt with.

He knew how to check for breathing, but was a little stymied when it came to taking someone's pulse.

"Bridgens," he said in a low voice. "Could you show me how to find a heartbeat the way the doctors do? I mean, by holdin' the wrist. I been told to make sure his breathing an' pulse is all right."

"Thank you, Lieutenant; I am sure that will not be necessary," Stephen said with a grateful smile. "Have you been told what is about?"

He turned his back on de Guarde: "It is a matter of discipline, Dr Maturin: you must leave us to deal with our hard cases." He returned the smile. "Most of the Terpsies will be grateful that you are here to help our surgeon, not want to cause you trouble. Now, what I came down for - and I'm right glad I did! - is to say that, provided the wind holds, we should reach Figuera de Foz sometime in the forenoon watch - before noon at least. The three shilling piece is with the armourer - do you wish to speak to him yourself?"

"That is very good news, lieutenant, thank you. I do, but it the making of the dome should probably wait until the operation itself; I will not disturb him before then." A nasty thought occurred to him, and he glanced down at the pair of trousers that De Guarde had given to him. "But I would be very grateful if you would point me in the direction of your purser? I have a brief question for him."

"The purser - Purser's stores, most likely at this time of day." He looked with interest at the trousers the Doctor was holding. "He has an office there." He pointed down from the sickbay. "On the orlop. About a-midships"

[OOC: I am not sure where Pusser's stores are - they do not show up on Frigate plans, but we seem to have an extra orlop deck for middies' berth and battle medical stations, so it's there.]

"Thank you, Lieutenant; I will not be a minute." He smiled reassuringly. "I am quite sure that Mister Crozier will fully recover."

"Yes, sir. I'm sure he will - I hear you're going to put his brain right." He glanced in at the door.

"Well, hopefully I will not have much to do with the brain itself. In a depressed skull fracture some bone is pressing against the brain, causing the unconsciousness - I will remove the bone."

"That's ..." George touched his own head above the ear. "I'm sure he will recover - as good as new, they said the chap you operated on was. Now you go off, if you wish. Would you like me to send a reliable lad down to help you - keep away the gawpers and the timewasters?"

"No, no, I will be quite fine, thank you. I will be a matter of minutes, and then return to Mister Crozier - in fact, I shall just check on him again before I go. Excuse me, Lieutenant."

"Very well, Sir. I'll have Markham bring some coffee along in a few minutes. You'll be needing that, I'm sure. Tell him if you want any food brought down." George touched his hat to the doctor, and turned to leave the sick bay.

"Thank you, sir, that is very kind of you - and Markham, of course." Stephen turned into the sickbay, and closed the door behind him.

The boy had looked at the lieutenant for a few moments and then looked at Maturin who had just a moment ago requested his bandage be removed. Seems the plans have been changed after all, or rather the lieutenant thought that he should finish his job no matter.

With not a peep or a sound he had turned and left. He rubbed his hand at the bandage across his eye. The bruise was still rather evident and the skin sensitive, but it was nothing to the extent of as terrible an injury as the doctor had. How still he could ask for the dressing to be replaced without addressing a doctor was beyond him, let alone without coming to the sickbay, but after all the lieutenant's wisdom was infinite and so he probably had an answer to that too.

(Has left back to horse place )

Once outside the sick bay, having left together, Leat shook his head despairingly before addressing Bolitho.

"A bad business, sir. Very bad."

"Indeed," Bolitho nodded. "However, at least we can be glad of the fact that Dr. Maturin is aboard to care for Dr. Crozier. If he had not been with us..."

He trailed off, unwilling to even think about what a dilemma they--and more importantly Crozier--would have been in.

"I think it would have been for the worst, sir," Leat said. A lifetime spent around death made it easier for him to speak of it. "But Dr. Maturin is an excellent physician, sir; one of the finest. He shall see Mister Crozier to rights."

He fell silent briefly, and shook his head again.

"Will you inform the men, sir? They're already speculating about what has happened."

Stephen, with absolutely no shame, stripped off his breeches and pulled on the trousers instead. "You as well, Thompson - I meant what I said about the miasma."

"I suppose that would be the best thing. I would rather they knew the truth than allow them to keep speculating and spreading rumors. We will also have to inform them that we shall be stopping at Figuera de Foz, in order that Dr. Maturin may be able to perform his operation under the best conditions."

Bolitho sighed, feeling concerned for Crozier and now wondering how the men would take this news.

Bridgens blinked in surprise at the doctor, and then looked back at Thompson whose ankle he was preparing to wrap. "Uh, I'll go down and fetch sommat clean for you." He would be waiting all day if Thompson himself went, thumping along with his crutch... "Where's yer things?"

"Bridgens, while you do, please fetch something clean for Mister Crozier - easy to take on and off; a nightshirt would be best. His clothes are filthy too."