Sunday 21st - afternoon or thereabouts

"Were they not already fetched? I would assume that they would be the first to be notified, yet still I am awoken for this!" Stephen snarled as he approached the sickbay.

"I was tryin' to tell him, sir, only... only, well, I ain't a doctor, see, an' he was tellin' me he knows better'n I do. But it ain't right!" He was trotting to keep up with the doctor who was striding along barely dressed, looking furious. He hoped desperately that he'd done the right thing in telling the man.

"It is not right, Private, you are quite correct! It is not right in the least!" He threw upon the door of the sickbay. "What is the meaning of this?"

Markham glared at the young man beside him, hiding his own feeling of guilt in blame for the boy. Next time, he would post a marine sentry outside the visitor's door.

As the sick bay door flew open, Everett jumped in surprise and dropped his book on the floor.

Stephen ignored the Marine and went straight to Crozier's cot. "Are you awake?"

Oxley flushed under Markham's glare and muttered defensively, "Dunno where Mister M'Clure is, an' he'd only tell Bridgens to go away, which he would, too. Made me fetch his breeches for him, an' all."

Crozier opened his eyes lazily and looked around for the source of the noise. There was a group of people, one of them Oxley back again, and one that looked like Markham, probably bringing his tea. But that scratchy loud voice belonged to the third man. Rather boorish behavior for a sick bay, but Crozier was too mellow to care overmuch.

Everett attempted to summon Oxley with a gesture, fearing the wrath of the visiting doctor should he notice the fallen book. That Doctor Maturin was a dragon.

Crozier opened his eyes. "How dare you?" asked Stephen harshly. "How dare you get up, and move around, when you knew that you were not to? It will not happen again - you, Marine, fetch some rope."

Crozier smiled sleepily. "I'm fine."

"Oh! Oh, you are fine! You are fine, you selfish mumping halfwit!"

Oxley glanced towards Everett and quickly picked the book up, handing it back to him as Doctor Maturin spoke, sending him for some rope.

Cordage... the bosun was in charge of looking after Terpsy's cordage and Oxley knew where he could find him. He darted off, glad to be away from sickbay now that Doctor Maturin was there making sure people weren't going to go wandering around when they shouldn't.

For some reason that made Crozier smile even more. If he had had the energy he would have giggled. "Lord love you, sir," he said, grinning at his amusing visitor.

It was only professional pride which stopped Stephen from killing the man. Instead he felt he could cry in anger; he waited in jaw-clenched silence for the marine boy to return with rope.

"Will you... will you be a good fellow and bring me my picture of Frances?" Crozier asked, smiling at the good man beside him. "Frances, Frances... I love Frances."

"Shut up," Stephen said through gritted teeth.

It wasn't long before Oxley was back with a coil of line, which he handed over in silence, biting his lip nervously at the expression on Doctor Maturin's face.

"Oxley," he cried happily, recognizing the young man. "Fetch my little picture of Frances, prettiest girl you ever saw. She's in my little desk, is Frances."

"Lash him into his cot," said Stephen to the Marine at Markham. "Make sure he cannot sit up at all."

Damn. Markham had just been about to sneak out.

"I'll get her in a moment, sir," Oxley said, and looked over at Stephen. "He's got his breeches on, sir. Won't it be best to take 'em off him first?"

"No," said Stephen sharply, the room swimming. "Just tie him into his cot!"

He would get her in a moment! Crozier blissfully continued chanting the name Frances, Frances, in a sing-song voice.

Markham peered at Doctor Maturin. "Are you all right, sir?" he ventured to ask. He decided to grab a chair, just in case. "Maybe you best sit down for a minute..."

"Do as I say!" Stephen shouted.