The sick bay

Stephen lifted his wig and scratched the back of his head as the Marine left. He spoke to M'Clure, "What else is there to do here?"

Bridgens spoke up deferentially. "Beg pardon, sir, but the doctor, I mean Mister Crozier was going to get me to make up some acetate of lead, sir, on account of I broke the last bottle, which was why we were in the hold. Should I do it now?" There was no reason why the visiting Doctor Maturin should have an opinion or preference of when Bridgens mixed up a stock solution, but it seemed only right to ask.

"Yes, please do that, Bridgens."

It seemed to Stephen that time passed infinitely slowly as he sat by Crozier, whose breathing and pulse changed not an iota, but he looked up and watched as M'Clure bandaged one of the sailors with a cut hand. A sailor who whispered the rumour he had heard that the Frenchman had tried to kill a Marine when he was found attempting to kill the General's horse.

With barked instructions to watch Crozier, and his face pale with anger, Stephen marched out of the sickbay and down to the passenger's cabins, marking the marine sitting opposite the captain's door.

M'Clure blinked slightly, finishing the bandaging quickly as he scurried to sit and watch Crozier again. Clearly something had struck the doctor, or he'd heard somethign he didn't like...It wasn't his business, although the rumour had been interesting enough.
The sailor had left as soon as the bandage was secure, so there was nothing more to do but sit there, watching the inert body near him.