Sunday 21st - afternoon or thereabouts

Oxley frowned, concerned. "You don't look so good, sir. Oughtn't you to lie down for a bit? An' I can go find Doctor Matterin to come and talk to you, if you want, sir."

"Yes, yes," Crozier replied absently. "I'll lie down now. Just a moment." He found a pencil and scribbled something in the book, not caring if he himself could not read it. He stowed the bottle back in its case and locked it before handing the keys back to Oxley. "Take those - you'll have to lock the door again - and bring the book for me." He suddenly remembered that his own cot had been hung in here to let Maturin use his cabin. Pity it had been taken down, for all it was a nuisance.

Oxley took the keys and the book and offered his free arm to the surgeon in case he needed help getting up. He looked awfully white, with that bandage round his head and his night-shirt on, and Oxley couldn't help wishing that there was an officer or someone around, though everyone was busy elsewhere.

"Here, sir, you take me arm," he said, holding his hand out. He wondered just how much the Doctor could see; he looked as though he was drunk, the way he was peering around at everything.

"Thank you, Oxley," Crozier said, becoming more human now that he had had his dose. It had not begun to take effect, but simply knowing that it was going to ease the pain was already making him feel better. As they walked back to the sick bay, he said, "After this, would you mind going to the gun room to ask them to make me some tea?"

"I c'n do that, sure 'nough, sir. Can you... can you see any better now, sir?" He still made sure he had Crozier's arm round his neck in case the doctor slipped or walked into something. If he bumped his head again, Doctor Maturin would probably have Oxley strung up from the yardarm for not stopping him.

"No."

"All right, then, sir. Mind the table here," he said, pulling Crozier carefully to one side to avoid having him bruise his hip on it. "Do you think you can get into your cot again, sir? 'Cause I think it'd be best if you was lyin' down, 'specially if you can't see quite right, sir."

And please, don't say I shouldn't be thinkin', sir, he thought, worriedly. Only want what's best for you, arter all.

"Yes." Crozier eased himself into his cot and lay back comfortably. Good lad, that Oxley. "Oh, give me the keys. I'll put them away later. There's another set somewhere else."

He handed over the keys. "I'll put the book back for you as well, sir," he said. "An', will Markham know how you take your tea, sir?"

"Yes." He closed his eyes and then added, "But Doctor Maturin is not to be disturbed."

Those last words hit Oxley like a bucket of cold water. He crossed back to the cot and peered down at the man in it. "Sir, he's the one who's bin lookin' after you. Mister M'Clure prob'ly dunno what to do, an' Bridgens certainly don't. An' someone needs to check up on you, sir."

Crozier waved him away with his hand. "He can check up later if he wants to. I've had my dose; I'm fine. All I want is some tea." The laudanum was already taking effect, and he was beginning to feel wonderfully mellow. "You're a good lad, Oxley. Don't worry."

"All right, I'll go an' find some tea for you, sir." And he'd go and see if Doctor Maturin would come and look at Doctor Crozier, though doing that would now mean disobeying an order, and that would mean awful trouble... wasn't that 'mutiny' in the Articles of War?

He swallowed and turned to head for the wardroom to find Markham and a cup of tea.

"Thank you, Oxley," Crozier murmured, sinking back in his pillow.

Oxley felt thankful for his punishment duty of Frday; helping Foley out in Mister Cartwright's cabin meant that he knew where Doctor Maturin was berthed. He brushed by the Marine sentry - Vining, his jacket as crumpled as usual - with the explanation that he was running an errand. He crossed to Doctor Maturin's cabin and tapped nervously on the door.

Stephen was woken out of a restless sleep by a reverberating rap on the door. He rubbed his eyes, having no idea how long he had slept, but his splitting headache remained. "Hmmm? Who is it?"

"Here, what are you doing?" Markham grabbed the lad by the arm and hauled him away from the door. "That's Doctor Maturin's cabin. You can't go bothering him!"

No answer, but voices outside the door; Stephen sat up, gripping the sides of the cot to steady himself.

He could hear a stirring within the cabin. "Sorry Doctor Maturin, didn't mean to disturb you," he called, glaring at the young marine drummer.

Oxley swallowed as Markham grabbed him and pulled him away from the door. "Have to. Doctor Crozier's woke up and bin out of bed tryin' to walk around a bit. Says he wants a cup of tea, and... he made me bring him the day book. And him seein' double 'cause of he's got a hole in his head!"

More noise - Stephen climbed out of the cot, and teetered across the cabin, opening the door. The lanternlight was agonising; he closed his eyes, and covered them with his hand. "What is this about?"

Oxley finally succeeded in get Markham to let go of him and he pulled his jacket straight. "It's Doctor Crozier, sir. He woke up an' was out of bed. Made me help him to the dispensary an' was tryin' to read the Day Book, though I know he can't see straight - or walk right - 'cause he was askin' me to read the numbers for him, sir. Please come an' have a look at him?"

Markham grimaced. Crozier walking and wanting tea and books didn't sound like an emergency. Surely M'Clure should have been able to deal with the surgeon, even if it did interrupt his dinner.

"He got out of bed?" asked Stephen, his voice cold with fury. "Even though he knows-" He clenched his fists, then started to walk, unsteadily at first buy gaining speed and determination with every step, barefoot and wearing only his short and breeches.

"Doctor, doctor!" Markham protested following him with speed. "Let me fetch M'Clure or the loblolly boy instead, sir!"