Sunday 21st - afternoon or thereabouts

'All the risks that have been taken on his account would have been for nothing' M'clure mouthed the words as he heard them, thinking that now, maybe, they were finding out exactly why Dr Maturin was so angry.
Maybe he got angry and picked holes in everything instead of retreating a little, when he felt he'd not done his best work?
And if that were so it wasn't anything personal and that was something even easier to deal with.

He looked at Mister M'Clure apologetically. He'd never meant to unleash such a storm when he'd gone to get Doctor Maturin, and he felt guilty for getting the surgeon's mate and the loblolly boy into such awful trouble. If he'd known where they were, he'd have tried looking for them first, but he hadn't and the only medical person he knew the whereabouts of was Doctor Maturin. He was glad that Maturin wasn't Terpsy's surgeon, he knew that much. He'd never expected him to have such an awful temper.

"Yes, he was walking! And by God I will be having words with him when he comes to about his utterly selfish and idiotic behaviour, but your duty was to prevent him from doing such things! Let alone your other patients - what if Barrow had stopped breathing? You fools!"

"Sir..You will drop your tone, and show some respect to these men." The youth snapped as he stepped a few steps forward, before he knew better. "Speak more quietly for the sake of all the other injured, if not for the sake of respect." He added in a tone of a midshipman, a role he'd been used to up till a while ago.

Everett made a noise of protest to the doctor's words, but immediately wished to retract it. He had been listening to Billy's breathing the whole time, and it was fine, steady and normal.

Remembering that he was supposed to be asleep, he made a snoring noise to cover his mistake.

His snoring immediately stopped when he heard the boy speak.

Stephen stopped, reeling, staring in shock at the ship's boy.

Oxley gaped and darted across the few feet to De Guarde. He grabbed the younger boy's arm and shook his head.

"You can't got sayin' things like that, Buckles, you idiot," he hissed. "You'm s'posed to be staying out of trouble!"

M'Clure was still more focused on the thought of anger when he realised de Guarde has stepped forwards and retaliated to Dr maturin.
Either very stupid or forgetting he was no longer an officer. It was a good diversion, true, and he gaped for a moment before pulling himself back into his corner.

Bridgen unfroze from his shock and took both lads by the arm. "Doctor told you lads to scram. Off you go, out." De Guarde was going to get them all killed, like a flame in the powder room.

"We're goin," Oxley said, and dragged De Guarde out of the door.

"Come back here," said Stephen, his voice soft but brooking no disobedience.

M'Clure had moved to shut the door on them, but looked back round to see what Dr Maturin had to say about it all and sharing a look with Bridgens.

Oxley closed his eyes, dropped de Guarde's arm and came back in, standing to attention rigidly. He could almost see the grating being rigged...

De Guarde was willing to protest, tell Oxley that he should damn well apologise if he meant to insult him, even if it was just then beginning to down on him that his words would only have been somewhat well placed if he actually was more than a mere Tar. Which he was now, and should have remembered no matter how silly the Doctor had acted. So though he had moved slowly in the direction of the door, his mouth was well sealed and he'd only looked glumly at one of the choice patients. Then the door closed and then, there was a call, and Oxley was there going in and he found himself not actually mentally following where he was going or was not.

This was all very diverting, but Crozier was sleepy, very much so, and he could no longer keep his eyes open. The men would not mind if he closed his eyes. One could still listen politely with one's eyes closed, he thought with a smile.

The boy was lingering outside. Stephen quivered with fury. He felt he could not come with the basics events fo everyday life, and now this absolutely unbelievable lack of responsibility and now insubordination made Stephen's usual liberal tolerance melt away.

De Guarde lingered at the place he was just standing then took a step forward. Wait, was he supposed to go in as well?

"Now."

He took another step and then sullenly he stopped before the doctor. He stood beside Oxley, mulling over his earlier words. He knew he had meant them but also that he should not have spoken them out loud as true as they were.

"How dare you speak in that fashion?"

Oxley swallowed. There was only one thing for it. "He's only bin disrated the other day, sir, he's still gettin' used to bein' a sailor not a middy."

"A midshipman does not speak to a surgeon in such a manner!"

He looked resentfully at the spot on the floor but did not answer. He tried to come up with a good answer, but what could he say exactly? That he forgot it wasn't his place, or that he was once a midshipman in which case he could have done that. Both choices sounded like a sodden sort of excuse. His expression turned into a frown. He shouldn't have, he was a fool. A bloody fool. Curse and damn.

But he couldn't say that now either. Not with what Maturin just said. He swallowed hard.

That was very, very true. Why couldn't de Guarde think before opening his mouth?!

He stared at the boy in disgust; the boy who had caused Crozier's head injury in the first place, and now unable to justify his unspeakable rudeness. "Get out of my sight."