OPORTO, 22nd May - Naval Landing Parties

De Guarde looked up as Sam was leaving and then as Oxley was moving up to do the same. "...Um..Tom, could I jus'.. borrow a' summat. I'll stay out o' yer way then." He murmured. He was more trouble than help. And his pockets felt rather uncomfortable with what poked at his sides in them.

He'd give them over once he was cleaned up. The marines might make use of it, the Tars certainly wouldn't.

Oxley looked at de Guarde curiously. "'Pends what it is, mate," he said. "Ain't any reason for you to go keepin' out of me way though. Don't be daft."

"Well, if yer be able t' get me summat t' wear over 'ere." He pointed at his shirt which was in a terrible state. "n' summat fer t' slops, I'd be most grateful." He smiled. "..n'.. only if yer sure I'um not in yer way. Ye know. Though.. think Cartwright might have meant what he said."

"I'll see what I c'n do. Want to borrow me jacket while I go lookin'? That middy won't see you then - only just another Marine drummer. An' you'll have to tell Mister Cartwright thanks, o' course."

"Yes. Think... 'td be best, jus' it will smell a bit probably. Though I've cleaned m'self as much as I could." He looked at the marine drummer and felt a grin coming to his lips. Terpsichore, he'd learnt, was a ship that had men look out for each other, as long as they did no evil. This was his friend, whom he had actually thought he would never see eye to eye, and that he would loathe him for the simple fact that they've had a terrible disagreement and a fight which had both with black eyes and punishment. Then even he had thought to hate him for recieving the punishment as if it was Oxley's fault.

Now he was just glad he'd listened to him and held his hand for the jacket so that he could get himself dressed. Atleast till they were to return to their boats and then to their ships.

"Ain't a problem sayin' thanks t' him Tom. Be near in debt to him fer it too, curse it." He smiled.

He sighed and started to unbutton his jacket.

"It'd be good if I could find a shirt first, but I don't think I ought to let him know who you are really. Who was he, anyhow? Seemed a right bastard, from what I saw of him. And, well, Mister Cartwright's pretty amazin'. Never 'spected an officer to... to lie like that, ever. Here." He held the jacket out. "Try not to get it any more dirty than it is. It's the only one I got, an' I don't want to get in trouble. Please."

"Promise not ter go down anythin' dirty." De Guarde answered, taking the coat gratefully from Oxley. He slipped it on carefully, but knew that he could do very little to keep it from touching his shirt. He just hope it wouldn't get too dirty and if it would, that it would all go out as well.

"Him.. Him's Mr. Hollow." He spoke as if that were to explain everything. "...Eh.. he's a midshipman." Another not too fine an explanation, and his head throbbing didn't help make it that much clearer. Maybe his next attempt would say enough. Oxley, having helped him and offered his coat for it, well he deserved atleast a fair answer.

"He is a bastard.. ..uh.. think how I was...but worse... ten times worse 'tleast." He was whispering. "Looks old fer still bein' a middie.. don't 'e?"

He hesitated. "..I dunno how's it possible, but ye, marines had gotten a bloody good officer."

Oxley followed de Guarde's broken explanation with a look of horror dawning on his face. He impatiently waved away the other boy's last sentence. "He's... he's a middy... on your old ship? Senior middy?" He winced. "No wonder you was like you was, if you had to share a berth with him. I'd hate to be on the same ship as him, I know that."

"Senior middy. Old ship, aye." He adjusted the coat and fumbled with the buttons, wondering why the marines had to have as many. Would be awful if one realised half way, that they've missed a button and the coat was beginning to be buttoned at an angle.

"He.. he ought t' have been a lieutenant but see.. failed, luckily failed t' examination." He said that with a certain amount of satisfaction. Fearing and hating the man, that enough was clear. Being glad at his misfortune, well nobody was perfect. "Sorry ter have acted so, back there. my mind sort o'..well, froze." He looked embarrassed and ashamed of it.

"I think I'd've done the same, if I'd had to put up with someone like that." He frowned, and took his hat off to offer that to de Guarde too. "Here, best have this too, though I really hope you washed your hair prop'ly."

"Is wet, but I did m' best. N'..ey, I tried not to rub my head in all that. Ain't too fond of smelly privy fer m' 'air." He took the hat gratefully and pushed a few wet strands, clinging to his forehead, out of the way. The queue at the back was consideraly well, though a few hairs were sticking out at odd ends. With the had nestled atop his head it didn't look to be too big though it might've ridden lower on his forehead than it did on Oxley's.

"How do I..um, look?" He asked.

"You... look like a Marine. Suits you." He sighed. "S'pose you want me sword an' all, don't you, Sticks."

"If that won't compromise yer safety, n' if ye'um ok with lettin' me borrow it.. Tom. Ain't askin' yer fer it otherwise." He felt more relaxed and a good deal more invisible. Mr. Hollow would not spare a glance with the marines. His own let alone foreign.

"You're turnin' into a Tar summat." He said smiling. " not meant in a bad way, ye know."

"I'm all right as a Tar, me. It's you we'm tryin' to hide, ain't it? Strange to hide someone in a bright red coat, though." He sighed and held his sword belt out. "Just goes over your head, like my cross-belt does. It's a sword 'cause I'm a drummer, see, though it's a lot shorter than the ones the officers have. I don't mind you borrowin' it, I can find a cutlass or summat like that to use."

"Aye. That we are,.. well is 't obvious places one never looks. N'... I think I'm safer in a river o' red, than one checkered like them tars." He slid the belt over his head and adjusted it a little. "Good thing yer not havin' a drum with you. Wouldn't know wot' ter do with that." He looked at the sword. It still looked, he reckoned, longer than a dirk.

"you've got 'em better than us...er them middies." He commented and nodded to the sword.

"Mebbe. Hadn't thought of that, mate. An' a drum only takes up room when it ain't bein' used. I don't know all the drum signals the army uses, an' neither do the rest of the Marines, so weren't any point bringin' that, see." He grinned at the transformation. "Just you stick close to Mister Cartwright, he'll see you right. An' you can give it all back when we get back aboard Terpsy."

"Thankee, Tom. I owe yer one." He smiled gratefully at the lad, feeling so much safer in that uniform. Sure his head was still a pain, and there some more dried blood at the back of it, but that came to nothing in comparison to the relief he had felt.

" Where's you goin' now?" He knew he was joining Mister Cartwright again, just for the duration of their stay on land, and all till they were boarding the Terpsy again. Which hopefully wouldn't be long neither.

"Dunno. Should stay with you lot, at least till the 'Tenant says otherwise. Shame the Shepherds ain't here to see it, that's all. "If he don't need me, I'll stick with the other Terpsies."

"Mm. Well bes' we go returning ter t' ..uh 'tenant then neh? Won't want ter keep him waiting, when he'd been so generous." He adjusted the hat a little. "Oh.. that's all then, right." He looked at his uniform and made a step forward. He was glad he was usually barefoot on the ship, could throw those slippers away right after he got back on it and never think twice about them!

"It's a bit big for you, ain't it, that hat? Sorry I ain't got anythin' to make it smaller. He grinned, and pointed. "The 'Tenant's over here with the others, mate. An'... do I call you Sticks, or Buckles?"

He was amused by the whole escapade, and it was obvious from the way his eyes were dancing.

"Hah, Um.. should be Sticks now, though.. wot' have we been tellin' that Middy again? I seem not to remember quite .. a lot." He grinned, as brave as can be, now that the danger was gone. He adjusted the hat again before he began in the direction of their, well Oxley's lieutenant.

"You'um enjoying this, aren't ye?" He laughed softly and grunted as that didn't bid well to the ache.

"'Course I am. You should be - would be for sure if you was where I am." Oxley himself was wearing a sailor's checked shirt, which was revealed now he had the jacket off. The only thing that would give him away as not being a Tar were his braces* and the fact he still had his gaiters and shoes on.

"Should find summat to stuff in that hat to make it a bit smaller for you, but I don' s'pose we really need to. It ain't all that big on you, is it?"

*British; American suspenders

"Sure am. Always wanted t' wear t' coat, didn't you know?" It wasn't much of a lie, not at all. He grinned and glanced over at Oxley.

"You look, like yer coat has run away.. or ye've been crossed with a marine, hips down n' a Tar up!" He chuckled.

He shrugged, grinning. "I'm all right. It's you we're worried 'bout, ain't it. It had better be worth it, that's all. I'd like to see that middy's face when he realises you ain't de Guarde, but Private Andrew Shepherd, of the Royal Marines. It'll be a right yarn to tell them twins, anyway."

"Them twins will have your n' my head for it, I'm sure!" He chuckled softly. "..think he'll come back? Mr. Hollow, that is? Snoop around?" He knew him well enough that he'd expect or believe it certain to happen. Of course, Mr. Hollow had his orders as well and he might be too busy - or have an officer too close to have to seem busy with duty.