To offer an apology

"So, here we are then." He looked at de Guarde curiously. "So, how come you've never had a friend before comin' aboard here, then? Didn't you go off to school or nothin'?"

He had a vague idea that boys born into the gentry went to school. Some of them might go to sea instead, of course; there were 'young gentlemen' aboard some ships who were hardly out of petticoats. But even they had friends in the middies' berth. Was his old ship so bad he didn't even have one friend in the middies' berth - or anywhere else? That must have been awful...

"I've had t' teacher come. Many a kind. Fer t' instruments, fer readin'.. then fer calculations n' all. But I went ter sea soon after.. been 'bout 12 or so. "

He looked at Oxley, wondering what kind of life that boy had lived before joining the marines as a drummer. "We'um were at sea, in t' Majesty's navy fer our duty tho'. Not as a leisure cruise." He nodded lightly. " So 'twas important we learn that as soon as possible. No places fer sniffly, bawlin' brats." He shrugged his shoulders lightly.

"You never went anywheres till you joined the Navy, then?" And from the choice of words de Guarde had used to describe his first ship, he'd had no real chance to relax there, either. "Ain't on duty all the time - ain't anyone can do that, not even the Captain, though folks has to call him for things. Like, he'll have been tole about this sail we seen." He shrugged. "It don't sound a very happy place, to me, like," he said.

"Here, come an' sit down." He took his own advice, sitting down on the decking of the top and leaning back against one of the wooden chests that held spare ammunition for the Marine sharpshooters. "You gots anythin' you want to talk about? Or you want to ask me about stuff? I feel kind of awkward doin' all the asking, you know."

"Not much no. Me mother was too worried. Which does startle me some, that while worried she'd think a life on a ship was a safe bet." He sat down beside Oxley, leaned back as he and chuckled. He hadn't understood it but he'd refrained from trying a long time ago.

"I'um t' ask you t' same then. Wot' was yer time like on t' ship..n'... wos' Terpsy yer first?" He looked up at the sky and the clouds, lazy and rather high up. "n' yer can still ask.. or we could have a way of.. me givin' yer one, n' ye givin' me one. Till they might remember we'um up 'ere that is." He grinned.

Oxley grinned, shaking his head in disbelief that anyone could think life at sea would be safer than life ashore.

"Terpsy's me second ship. I bin aboard of her since she was commissioned for this voyage - that's two years, near enough. And I was in Atalanta afore that. She's another frigate, though a big bigger than Terpsy here. Thirty-six guns. I was in her for two years - no, three years, I think."

"Wos' Atlanta like this'un here?" He looked curiously at Oxley. "..n'..well, ye'um all talkin' bout friends n'all. Did yer have many there?..." He halted himself before he'd ask more. He had to be patient, have a stopper on how many questions he would give. Too much was as bad as too little. Just because one could, didn't mean one also should.

" Life 't sea... 's so much different than at home. Jus' t' amount o' sleep yer get, n' t' amount of work yer actually have ter do, n'..how rain n' storms doesn' any longer jus mean... a gloomy day out 'ere."

"I called her Atlanta, when I first went aboard of her. It's At-a-lanta, dunno for why. She was some runner or somethin', that some bloke made a bet with, that he could run faster'n her. Though he cheated - dropped a golden apple when she was goin' to win, and she picked it up, so he won instead. Way back in the olden days, that. Someone tole me that when I kept gettin' it wrong."

He grinned. "Aye, had some friends there. I was new, see, and one of the other drummers was bigger'n me. I was mebbe eleven, twelve, summat like that. And he was about fourteen, an' used to pick on the ships' boys somethin' rotten. So I used to fight him, to keep him away from them, told him he shouldn't be doin' it. Had more'n one fight and got more'n one black eye. Our officer couldn't work out why I kept fallin' over things till someone told him all what was goin' on." He shrugged, remembering it. "Wasn't me, though - I think the others got tired of it all. They was nice too, the other Marines."

"Yer stood up fer em?" He looked surprised at Oxley then nodded, though it wasn't quite in agreement, just confirmation that he had heard him say so.

"Wot' did they give yer in return fer it?" He added more subtly, more quietly, though loud enough that his voice would still carry to the drummer boy.

"They didn't need to. I done it 'cause it wasn't right, what he was doin', first off. An' then I done it 'cause they was me mates. Though they showed me how to go aloft - you seen me use the futtock shrouds, didn't you? Thompson does it the same way, only he does it with a musket slung acrost his back."

He chuckled. "Fair scared the life out of me, the first time I done it, though, hangin' half upside down like that."

The youth nodded and grinned: "It sure ain't fer t' faint heart'd that's fer sure." He peeked down, leaning out as far as he could dare, without causing unneeded danger to himself. Then bent back again, thoughtfully.

" We had this new middie.. he was ter go up n' he jus' couldn't. N' Mr. Hollow came ter sort 'im out. Can't say he did at all good. That lad had been tremblin' like a leaf each time 'e even looked at t' shrouds after, fer quite a while." He hadn't thought much of it. The boy had been tested once the weather wasn't as fine. But surviving the worst he'd been made stronger for it. Either that or the time in the middie's berth had taught him to keep his fears to himself.

"Yer learnt all ye know on t' other ship, or..'s lots 'bout here as well?" He motioned below them to the ship.

(and now x.x i shall hit an early one today, so good night! and see you tomorrows !)

"I've learned a bit since comin' here, though there's so much to know, I don't reckon I'll ever know it all. The Captain prob'ly does, but then he's the Captain." The admiration Oxley had for such an exalted person as the Captain was clear in his voice. "I know the drills and all the different drum signals and things we use. Don't think I want to learn all the sailor kind of stuff, though some of it'd be useful. Can tie some of the knots and things, though."

He reached for a spare end of a piece of cordage fastened round a belaying pin. "I can tie a bowline, to make a loop," he said, and showed it. "And a reef knot, though you need two ends for that. And others, as well." He coiled it up again neatly, looping it back over the pin.

Seward snorted with relief when the two boys finally went back down the shrouds to the maintop. Listening to them chattering had been giving him a headache. The maintopman shifted his perch just slightly and peered through Mister Slater's telescope, watching the other ship intently. It sure looked like a French ship to him, the more he studied her.

There were dark figures scurrying around in the other ship's yards. That drew a frown to Seward's brow. They were shaking out sail, by the look of it. Wouldn't be a King's ship if she was trying to run like that!

"Deck there!" Seward bawled. "She's runnin'!"

"Ye'll have ter know t' things with which t' marines can 'hoist their weight about'." He smiled, and observed the presentation, to see if there was anything to give advice about, or did he need solely to nod and agree.

He opened his mouth again and then shut it looking up towards Seward. "Might have t' answer to our question there!" He uttered seriously. " Now let's see if t' cap'n wants us ter chase it." He felt some excitement. He'd missed the previous battle, perhaps there was an opportunity to make amends to that.

"She has her colours up ?" He called to Seward. But her running answered that already. Not if she had, but which they could possibly be.

"There's a whole squad of Marines ashore, with Sar'nt Quinn. And the surgeon and t'others, not to mention the crew of the captain's boat. He might be runnin' but Captain Bolitho won't want to fight him with all them people ashore." Would he? And if he did, what would happen to them who got wounded? That wasn't a nice thing to think of, that wasn't.

He frowned, trying to think straight. If the Frenchy was running - if she was a Frenchy - it didn't make sense. Terpsy was to landward of her, and the drummer thought the other ship had the weather gauge as well. It didn't make any sense to him for the other ship to run. Though, as he'd told de Guarde, he didn't know much of anything about the actual tactical side of things.

"Ain't much we can do, whatever she's playin' at," he said, staring across the water at the other ship. "Anythin' else you want to talk about, or ask me about?"

"..Well don't make sense why she's runnin'... we ain't havin' someone comin' from elsewhere, do we?" He turned to scan the horizon again, and even all the sea in the direction of land.

If by any chance the ship observed had spotted another ship, and was not fleeing because of them but the other one? What would it make her then. A foe? Or not a ship of arms at all? Or has she seen them.. no, she could not have seen and went to lure them after her, to meet with a greater number, as easy prey. It would just not make sense. He glanced at Oxley.

"N'less she's got a shy cap'n." He mused out loud and shrugged his shoulders. Even as young as he was, and as dangerous as the battles could be, he would have done his duty and worry about the horrors later. Try to, at his best.

"N' I thought t' day had reached it's peak of oddity." He murmured to himself more than to the drummer boy.

"We should be needed below, d' ye think?" He glanced at the ant nest of movement below.

"I dunno. Ah, bother it!"

He looked down at the deck, where he could see Andrew Shepherd limbering up his drumsticks. "Looks like they're goin' to beat to quarters, though I dunno what they make of her. She might be summat friendly, though if she's British like us, they ought to at least show her number and the private signal to make sure of it. If they're goin' to be beatin' to Quarters, though, I've got places to be. Like you have, prob'ly.

"Aye, that I do too." He looked towards the ship that they would soon pursue, judging by how the things below seemed to be turning out to be.

"Hn'.. though she could've done it too! Spared us all the worry, if she's a friend." He nodded firmly. Well, if they'd hear t' drum they'd sure be coming down as smooth and fast as able.

" Wot's a drummer who's not drummin's place durin' this time tho?"

He shrugged. "Powder monkey. Ain't big enough, really, to fire a musket. So whoever ain't on duty at Quarters fetches powder, like the other boys do. I'll either be lookin' after Number Four gun, or Number Five gun, dependin' on which Tom Shepherd's got. What'll you be doin', then?" He might be getting a bit big for it, but there wasn't anything else he could do, really, not till he was older and allowed to carry a musket.

"Since I'm summat lackin' of t' usual uniform, n' by me size.. well 'think I'll be join' yer fer t' powder haulin'. Well not yer, but doin' t' same." He grinned a little bit uncertainly.

He hadn't so done that kind of duty before, though he'd seen little boys come and go, and some be killed in the process.

Oxley saw the nervous grin. "It's all right, it's easy. All you have to do is make sure that the gun - or guns - you're lookin' after allus have powder."

And then there was a sudden raffle on the drum as Andrew Shepherd started beating to Quarters.

"Bother. Come on, see if you can get the gun next to me, and stick with me for a bit, how's that sound?" He scrambled up and reached for a back-stay. "We'd best get down there, though, quick-like."

(They head to the gundeck.)