Evening 24th May - Mucked make a visit

Bolitho was not exactly keen on letting the provosts aboard, but he knew there was no way he could refuse their request. Besides, it was rather ridiculous for them to be carrying on a conversation shouting between the ship and the cutter when they could be conversing much more civilly in the Great Cabin.

"Then I give you permission to come aboard," he called down to the provosts, "We can discuss this matter more thoroughly in my cabin."

Turning to Bush, he added in a low voice, "I find it difficult to believe that any of the men would have been acting 'atrociously' while ashore, but obviously we will have to hear them out."

"Indeed sir," Bush replied, shooting a quick glare in the direction of the provosts' boat.

These idiot lubbers were to be let aboard? Johnson grimaced. It was an insult to everything worth upholding. But it was the captain's wish, however much Johnson disliked it.

"Shoulder arms!" The corporal snapped, and Grattan and Higgins at last shifted their muskets so they were no longer aimed at the provosts. More's the damn pity, Johnson thought sourly.

"Shall I have a guard stand by, sir?" He asked. The idea of allowing these provost bastards to go traipsing around without being escorted seemed even more wrong than letting them aboard in the first place.

It was not a bad suggestion, considering the circumstances. Still, Bolitho did not want to offend the provosts any further. They sounded irritated enough to begin with.

"While I would like to keep them under watch, I would ask that they not be guarded too closely. We should not make our distrust too obvious," he replied. Then quietly he said, "You may have a guard stand by, corporal, but tell him to keep his distance. These men would be foolish indeed to try anything when they are so obviously outnumbered, after all."

Johnson nodded. "Aye sir." He would stay on deck as guard himself. To hell with delegating that particular task!

"Back to your posts, lads," he said to Grattan and Higgins, who trooped back to the quarterdeck stairs without a word.

The provosts' boat came closer to the side of the ship yet again, guided there carefully by the man that had been paid to ferry them across. They were clearly not apt to climb up ships, and as the first moved - he let two of his fellows pass too green and ill to even consider being annoyed.

The lieutenant was first to attempt the boarding, and looked somewhat unsure as to how he would go about that business. Even the fairly helpful suggestions of their ferryman did not bring any assurance or courage for the man. Finally he'd have pulled himself onto the ladder nearly falling right back into the boat or the water. He held on, cursed, waited. At last he had pulled himself higher, bit by bit, and yet he must've been just as slow as a landlubber's first time doing it. He huffed and breathed most heavily the higher he had come and the closest to the railing, while another man and then another had followed him, one quite literally toppling back into the boat instead.

Bush shook his head slightly as he watched the provosts attempting to come aboard. He had not expected them to perform the task expertly of course, but he had thought they might be a bit more knowledgeable about it. However, judging by their haphazard movements, they knew nothing at all about how to board a ship. As if it was not troublesome enough having the impending complaints against the crew, they had to watch this ridiculous display from the provosts as well.

"Use caution, gentlemen. We would be most grateful if you did not fall in the water--unless you would prefer to be soaking wet while discussing the supposed infractions of the crew," Bush remarked, not entirely keeping the sarcasm from his voice.

Amongst them there was one or two who had done a better, finer job and two that remained in the boat. One had felt ill, as a landlubber unaccustomed to sea often does, the other was told to remain, without even attempting to move up along the side.

As the small collection of men gathered on board. The few additional coming perhaps for as distrusting a reason as the marines had earlier and perhaps even now kept a close watch on each. The officer stepped forward glancing at the lieutenant. He had ignored the spite of the very man. He disliked the bottom order of the crew, now he was coming to dislike the officers as well. Still stiff.. or as stiff as he could stand on the deck that was never 100 % still, he turned towards the captain.

"Thank you for receiving us on board." His eyes narrowed, alert as can be.

The others looked about the ship clearly searching for the faces that would look familiar, or for sailors that would have been trying to conceal themselves.

Johnson hid a smile as he watched the provosts fumble their way through the entry port. Little else could be expected of a pack of landsmen, of course. He waited with simmering impatience for the empty pleasantries to be exchanged. Once the officers were finished, he could see to it that the provosts passed under casual, watchful guard.

Bolitho inclined his head towards the provost officer.

"Of course," he said, in as pleasant a tone as he could manage under the circumstances, "And now, if you wish, we can move this conversation to the Great Cabin. Unless you would rather discuss the matter on deck, of course."

He highly doubted the provosts wanted to talk about the wrongdoings of some crewmen in front of their fellows. Bolitho himself did not feel entirely comfortable discussing it on deck for that very reason.

Standing sentry on the Captain's cabin, Thompson hadn't heard what all the noise was about, but he'd seen Chase and Taylor diving down the forward companionway, with Dyer not far behind them. Whatever it was could only mean trouble. He glanced up to the larboard gangway, and reached to adjust his hat a little, wishing it had been Mallory, or McEwen, or Dickin who'd got this duty, allowing him to stand guard somewhere where he wasn't going to be seen by anyone who wasn't a Terpsy.

(ARGH, I wrote it all up, pressed sent.. and.. the page had a hiccup! *grumbles*)

"Indeed, it shall be most convenient should we." The officer answered even if he might have been inwardly tempted that he would speak of these men right infront of each of them. Still, it was common courtesy, the proper way of conducting such business and acting on emotion rather than sense was not something he should or could afford.

With a smile, more polite than anything he waited for the captain to lead the way. His men were still spying about with their eyes, searching for a familiar face, back, or tail of hair, a mark of those that had been on land the other day. They were almost certain they were on the right ship, but of course seeing the culprits would still feel of much greater satisfaction. The officer glared coldly at Johnson as he passed him, feeling to like him no more than the muck that had been thrown at him the other day.

"As I was saying.." The officer had begun, and his eyes then stopped on the redcoated sentry.

Bush had been following Bolitho and only half-listening to the provost officer as he spoke. But the sudden pause in the man's speech made Bush turn in his direction. Following the provost's gaze, he saw the officer was staring intently at Private Thompson, who was on sentry duty outside the cabin.

"Is something wrong, sir?" Bush inquired of the provost, hoping that the officer was not about to accuse Thompson, of all people, of some sort of wrongdoing.

He was already standing to attention, of course; he could hardly do otherwise with the Captain and First Lieutenant approaching, after all.

Whatever the Captain's visitors had been discussing, the man broke off abruptly, and it could only be for one reason. From the way Chase, Taylor and Dyer had escaped below a moment ago, it wasn't for anything good, either.

He assumed a wooden, blank expression and kept his eyes focussed on the middle distance, willing them to ignore him, not to recognise him and just to go inside after the Captain.

The hell? Johnson, following at a short, discrete distance, narrowed his eyes. He didn't like the way that the provost officer had cut himself off in mid-sentence. If one of his lads had been stupid enough as to stir up trouble enough ashore that the army had to get involved... that man was going to regret ever being born.

"Him." The provost had nodded towards the woodenfaced marine. He thought he recognised him, perhaps the face and the coat, which they first thought was a regiment of foot one's. Not till he'd seen the hat then and now that he figured that it was a marine's hat and thus it this one could well have fitted the picture.

"He has been on shore the evening before, hasn't he?" He spoke, as if only to confirm his impression. Yes, that face, he was sure he'd seen the outline or rather one of the other provosts had been even more sure as he pointed at him and nodded himself.

"Private Thompson was ashore last evening," Bolitho said, glancing between the provost officer and Thompson, "Why do you ask, praytell?"

"Indeed he was." The officer provost averted his gaze from Thompson, as if his presence had not been that troublesome and that it was just that he remembered seeing him.

Such an illusion did not last for long as he made a sharp gesture with his hand and spoke again: "I would be inclined to suggest that he is to accompany us inside, captain. If it would not be of your inconvenience that we.. speak of, and with him, of the events that had taken place the other evening."

And now they were discussing him, and not in a good way. He swallowed, wondering how his stock had managed to get so tight without him noticing. He kept his gaze level, though his mouth had grown suddenly dry, and his palms were unaccountably damp. This could not be good... especially if the Provosts wanted him to come into the Great Cabin too.

So the officer really was going to accuse Thompson of causing trouble. Bolitho found that extremely difficult to believe, but obviously he had to hear the provosts out.

"Very well," Bolitho said, then he turned to Thompson, "I would have to ask that you come inside, Thompson."

It seemed that the high jinks of yesterday had caught up with them - even though Thompson had had nothing to do with it. Well... nothing to do with it after getting involved in that brawl in the first tavern, but what were they supposed to do? Let any damn soldier who wanted to insult them and their ship get away with it?

"Aye, aye, sir," he said, wondering how the hell he was supposed to get out of this mess now.

This wasn't happening. The muscles in Johnson's jaw tightened. What these provosts think they were about? He eyed Thompson for a moment before scowling at the provosts. Bloody meddling bastards. This was madness, all of it. Johnson waited until the officers had gone into the cabin before following. There was no sentry outside now, with Thompson having been summoned away from his post, but he was not going to send for a replacement. Not yet...

Once inside the Great Cabin, Bolitho waited until the door was closed before asking the provosts to begin. He still could not believe the crew had been causing trouble, but the fact that the officer had recognized Thompson did lend some merit to their story.

"Now then gentlemen, would you please enlighten me as to exactly what transpired ashore?" he said.

"..Certainly. We have been warned that Sailors have been causing trouble at one of the taverns. Once we have come there we could see him, and some other of the men - which I am assured are from this ship - causing quite an uproar." And then they were gone. He explained further how they have gone to search for them.

He halted there and looked at Bolitho and then at the Corporal."Your man took part in a tavern brawl. We have several witnesses that can confirm this."

He then turned to Bolitho again: "...and he is not the only one, as I've said. But .. do question him, if you have doubt. That is... if he would not be found lying to save himself."

"You are absolutely certain that the men causing a ruckus were from the Terpsichore? And that Thompson was one of them?"

Bolitho hated the thought of punishing any of the men for something they did not do. If they really were guilty, he wanted the provosts to prove it beyond a shadow of a doubt. And he could not deny that he was still clinging to the hope that the provosts' report might prove false after all.

Bush glared at the provosts, fuming over their gall. It was bad enough they were accusing the Terpsichore's crew of misconduct to begin with, but now they were insulting their character as well. And in the captain's cabin no less.

"I doubt that Private Thompson would lie if questioned directly," Bush said. He would have been angry enough to have the provosts slander any of the men, but to call Thompson a liar right in front of him was intolerable. "If he has done anything wrong, he will own up to it."