In the Wardroom--Signing In

Perry glowered and kicked the man's legs.

There was a collective noise of disapproval as Chase staggered and went down. He started to get back to his feet when somebody on the edge of the crowd of watching sailors gave a short, low whistle. There was an officer coming.

"Gimme that!" Chase hissed at Dyer, who tossed over the block of tobacco. If they were going to cover up the reason for the closely-grouped seamen, they needed something to gawk at. Tommy Edwin was quick to give Chase's knife back and somebody helped Perry up.

"Nice bit of leaf, this," Chase said, holding the tobacco block up. It was a thin cover story but it was all he could think of.

Perry was about to lunge for his bar of tobacco - bastard was cheating! He hadn't won the fight yet! But his slightly ringing head became addled when a seaman began singing a noisy song directly into his ear. "C'mon, mate, show us a Yankee dance!" someone cheered. Looking up in a daze, he saw someone who had not been there a minute ago, an officer in a blue coat.

The seamen stepped aside to let the midshipman through, knuckling their brows respectfully. Chase glanced meaningfully at Perry and asked, "Care to join us watchin' the new fella dance, sar?"

Perry nodded and grinned, knuckling his forehead respectfully.

Chandos raised an eyebrow at Chase.

"Showing you all a dance, was he?" The midshipman did not sound entirely convinced. The sounds he had been hearing a moment ago seemed to indicate that a different sort of entertainment had been transpiring. "What might this 'dance' be called?"

"Just a hornpipe, sir," Perry said, his ink-daubed face expressionless. "Yankee kind."

Fight! A fight was always good for a it of a laugh, depending on who was actually doing the fighting. Oxley pushed through the watching men; being shorter than them was no joke sometimes.

He grinned as he saw that it was Cob Chase fighting the new man. He'd put his money on Cob; the seaman knew how to fight to win. He drew in a breath as the newly-pressed man kicked him; that wasn't fighting fair. That was nothing like fighting fair.

And then the group around the two brawlers shifted and dispersed a little as someone said there was an officer approaching. He grinned as he saw it was Chandos, and someone said that the Yankee was dancing for them.

Chase grinned despite the twinge of pain in his jaw. "That's it, sar. Joe's got his whistle out too. Should be interestin', sar."

Joe Crabtree lifted his whistle and nodded.

"Ah, I see. A Yankee hornpipe." Chandos still seemed to be rather skeptical. His eyes went back to Chase, who had a block of tobacco in his hand. "And what's the purpose of the tobacco, then?"

"That were a gift from me, sir," Perry interjected. "From Carolina like me, it is. I got lots more. Here, you take this one for you, sir! Share it with your mates." He snatched it from Chase's hand and gave it to the midshipman with a grin.

"Good prime 'bacca, that is, sar," Chase affirmed.

"The best!" Perry said, seeming highly amused.

Oxley hid a grin at the thought of the young gentleman chewing tobacco like a sailor. He was glad of Chicken Dyer's presence; he was mostly hidden from Chandos' view by the bigger sailor.

Chandos was mildly surprised when the sailor shoved the tobacco at him.

"Well, I--thank you," he said as he accepted it, not really knowing what else to say. But then he quickly got over his shock and looked back at the men. "I do appreciate that, but I would also like to know why both of you are splattered with ink." He glared at Chase and Perry. "Does one need ink to dance a hornpipe?"

Perry could not help grinning at the question and he answered first. "No, sir. Matter of fact, I was just writing a letter to my wife. Good lieutenant Bush let me borrow a pen and ink and paper." He pointed to the items lying scattered across their table. "Only, a cat just run through here, sir, and caused a mess. Broke my pen even. Sorry if me made a ruckus, sir, trying to catch her and clean her off."

That certainly sounded like something Miss Emily would do, and so Chandos had to admit that was a plausible explanation. But it still didn't explain why they were now all gathered around to supposedly watch the new sailor dance.

"And so, after cleaning up, you decided to stop your writing and show all the men a dance?" He still was not completely convinced. "I suppose your letter must not be all that important, then."

"Oh it is, sir, it is," Perry said eagerly. "But uh... I don't have a knife to cut my pen, sir. Would purser give me one, do you think?" He looked at the midshipman with innocent eyes.

"I suppose he might...but you still haven't answered my question." Chandos stared back at him. "Not having a knife does not explain your sudden need to dance."

Jonny Seward said, "We talked him inta it, sar. Sorta tradition-like, sar."

"We all been dancin', sir," Dyer added brightly. "Nobody can't help dancin' when Joe's a piping. Be your turn next, drummer," he said, cheerfully pushing Oxley forward.

Oxley grinned. He didn't mind capering a bit if it would help allay the middy's suspicions. "Least I won't knock meself out like you would," he retorted.

"Hmm." Chandos said. He still could not help feeling things were not as they seemed, but he had to admit that if they were lying, then all of them were covering it up remarkably well. "I suppose if you're all so intent on dancing, then I see no reason to stop you, but please try and keep the racket down."

"Aye sir," a chorus of voices said, nodding and saluting the midshipman.

"Good."

After casting one last warning glance at the group, Chandos turned and left, debating what to do with the tobacco the new sailor had given him.