Drummer's Jacket, 26 May

Oxley paused in the act of clipping the drum to his own crossbelt. It had been a good prank until Mister Fletcher had shown up, but the young midshipman hadn't dropped them in it - he'd acted as though it was all perfectly normal although he'd insisted that de Guarde be relieved, which was a slightly disappointing end to the whole thing. Maybe they'd get another chance another day... if Mister Cartwright didn't end up having them all in trouble.

He swallowed as Cartwright told de Guarde to send Shepherd up. This could still end in disaster for all four of them... He just hoped the Lieutenant could see the funny side of the joke.

...and Lieutenant Cartwright had gone along with it. Fletcher had enough presence of mind not to stare, but was still fair astonished.

"Sir," he said, before pausing as he did not quite know what to say, but decided it was probably better not to say anything further on the subject at all. "Sir, have you seen Mr. Bush? I was to report to him once I'd seen the flour sacks stowed safely below, but I cannot find him."

"He is on the quarterdeck, I believe," Cartwright replied, watching the second drummer headed below-decks. If that was one of the Shepherds, he was a mermaid. He made a mental note to get both Shepherds together for a quiet chat later.

Fletcher turned and saw two familiar figures in blue - one redheaded, one dark - emerging from the great cabin and hastily threw a salute to Cartwright.

"Thank you, sir."

He then took to his heels. Seeing Mr. Bush was a lot less of a frightening thought than staying around where Cartwright might decide to change his mind about overlooking little white lies. De Guarde had been a fool for hesitating... But it was done now, and so long as he had no further part in any nefarious deed he would alright.

And both officers were standing directly between Oxley and where Oxley ought to be standing if he was duty drummer. He fiddled with his drum and its strap, trying not to listen to their conversation and not to look as if he even might be thinking about listening in to it. And then thankfully Mister Fletcher touched his hat to Lieutenant Cartwright and headed up to the quarterdeck, allowing Oxley to step into his proper place. He glanced sideways at the Lieutenant, wondering nervously what he'd made of it all.

Cartwright waited until the midshipman had gone before nodding at Oxley and pacing slowly toward the companionway. It would probably take a minute for the Shepherds to argue over who would be the unlucky one to go topside and face him. They'd expect to be in trouble, after all.

Oxley blinked as Mister Cartwright just nodded at him before walking slowly towards the companionway. He'd expected a blowing-up then and there, pretty much... though he was equally sure they were all going to get the dressing-down of their lives. If that was the case though, it was a real shame that de Guarde hadn't been able to even beat for the officers' dinner.

De Guarde had gone below. He was a bit disappointed. Having been discovered too quickly he might've learnt something. They all should've. One, it was not enough to expect nobody looked at Drummers. If at no other time, they would become very attentive to them on the wrong day. So, if posing as drummer the lad that was not the drummer had to be made to look different than he usually did or similar to the drummer that he was portraying. That would have to be looked into next time.

Two, when portraying a drummer, know how at ease they were, or how stiff. Don't go over board either way. Do things that you'd think a drummer thinking nobody is looking at him would do. Just because his uniform fit him and the rest didn't look oversized or weird, didn't mean that it would excuse acting too stiff. It wasn't just the outer appearance, it was the mannerisms too. Maybe copy the mannerisms and style of one drummer. That way from afar he could play the part. From up close it would be harder, but he could still somehow manage.

He sighed. "Shepherd." He called. "Yer needed on deck." He frowned and waited to see where one of the boys was. He forgot which of the two had stepped into his place and which one hadn't. Well, when he'd see the red coated one, he'd know.

He was needed... where? Thomas Shepherd blinked in surprise. "It ain't me watch," he said reflexively.

"..it ain't ..But.. I've been relieved. " De Guarde looked at the lad. " 'couse they told me I'm feeling sick.."There was a hesitant pause before he added: "Think.. Mister Cartwright knows.."

Something like panic touched Thomas' face. "He what?" He came to his feet and grabbed for his jacket. "Never mind. Stay put here."

With his jacket only half tugged on and his hat in hand, Thomas dashed off toward the seamen's messdeck.

He had to be honest. He wasn't sure whether Mister Cartwright knew, or he only really wanted a second Shepherd up, but it was best to warn Thomas, than to let him wade head on into trouble. Even if he wanted to go up and back him up if needed, he knew his appearance if their prank has been successful, would ruin it. His face pretty much would have betrayed the whole scheme.

So instead he sat down on one of the sea chests in the Marine's mess and looked around. He could still go up later or maybe sneak up closer. Listen in. With a grunt he got up again. Maybe he would do that.. as long as he wasn't noticed...!

Oxley watched Mister Cartwright from the corner of his eye, as much as he could without turning his head. He didn't want to move, and catch the officer's attention and make things even worse for them all, simply by reminding him of who was standing there on duty. They were in so much trouble....

His brother was up forrard, helping a couple legitimate Tars with their work. Thomas barrelled up to him without preamble, grabbed him around the collar, and dragged him summarily off toward the ladder, all without saying a word until they were one deck below.

"The 'tenant knows," Thomas said. "He wants one of us topside."

Andrew cursed.

"Aye," his brother agreed. Both of them sighed. "Might's well be me, I s'pose," Thomas went on. "I'm dressed fer it. What should I tell him?"

"Anythin' you bloody want, long's it keeps him from askin' questions."

As if there was any hope of getting an officer to do that. Thomas made a face and headed topside. He'd kept the officer waiting long enough.

"Set fer, sir."

Oxley shuffled round a little as one of the Shepherds came up, looking a little dishevelled, which was understandable enough. He wanted to see without having to turn his head and get noticed watching. He caught the other drummer's eye and gave a shrug - no more than a twitch of the shoulders, really, but enough. He gestured with his hand, out of sight of the officer, towards his coat buttons.

Whoever it was had come up on deck with his coat buttoned wrong, where it was buttoned at all - and he had to sort that out before the officer saw it.

Oh. Too late. He let his hand drop back to his side, and sighed quietly.

De Guarde held his hat in his hands gazing down at it. He couldn't just sit there. He was nervous and he hated the feeling that he did not know what was going on and whether there would be someone storming in at that very instant or not. He pulled his hat back on then nervously tugged him off. Whether it was good or bad, he had to see. Maybe if he kept the hat with it's glaring white line out of view... the glaring white crossbelt would be the only thing drawing attention of anyone. And even if he kept himself half down or round a beam, close enough to hear, it would be enough to sate his want for knowledge.

He slipped from the marine's mess and went in the direction he'd earlier come, very aware of what was going on ahead of him. Any sound, any figure in red, and he'd make absolutely sure that the said figure wasn't the officer. He adjusted his coat. He could've changed but.... later. It would just waste time!

"Shepherd," Cartwright greeted, pretending not to notice the drummer's poorly dressed state. "I understand your brother was just on deck, standing duty while unwell. Is this so?"

Thomas stared at him. What? "Ehm... unwell, sir?" Think think think. "He's been off a bit, aye, sir. But there's no tellin' him that."

What was going on? He still couldn't get close enough. He almost wished they'd speak up somewhat. Talk loud or talk close. Certainly talk coherent enough he'd hear and understand. He held his hat in his left hand while he made small progress up the companion way. And then he had to get out of the way because one of the Tars needed to go on deck. Darn it.

And Mister Cartwright hadn't said anything about the state of Shepherd' uniform... Was that a good thing, or a bad thing?Oxley stared straight ahead and tried not to fidget. They were probably in enough trouble as it was, without him adding to it.

Of course not. "I see," Cartwright said. "That is unfortunate. However, I should like to see you and your brother both here, if you would be so kind. I did not speak properly with him a moment ago and wish to do so now."

"Aye aye, sir," Thomas said and thought of many horrible things he could do to Andrew for this. It was his fault this had gone wrong. Even if that thought didn't make any sense. It was just easier to blame Andrew since he was usually to blame anyway.

De Guarde craned his neck. he had ended nearly at the top, but with the hat now in hand, he had an extra few cm before he'd need to worry he was recognised. Perhaps this was not the best way to get close. He made a quick skim of the surroundings above to locate a better spot and then ducked back in.

Whatever Mister Cartwright was saying, he was speaking just too quietly for Oxley to be able to hear him, which was both annoying and intensely worrying. He thought he saw de Guarde's head peering up at them from the companionway, but when he turned his head to look properly, he had gone, possibly ducked out of sight. Well, the drummer could have imagined it, but he knew that if their positions were reversed, he'd want to see what was going on.

He switched his attention back to the Marine Lieutenant and the other drummer boy, wishing he could hear what Mister Cartwright was saying.

Oh hell. Thomas went scurrying below, striving to conceal his terror. How could Mister Cartwright have guessed? How did he know the twins might try standing in for each other? What was he going to do when Andrew showed up topside in slops?

Thomas spotted De Guarde as soon as he got onto the messdeck. "Disappear," he hissed to the other boy, before he ran forrard, nearly losing his hat as he went. Andrew was not going to like this.

Thomas was forgetting something. Unless Andrew had been smart enough and changed into his marine's attire while Thomas had gone up to meet Cartwright, he was going to be betraying himself running up there now all in a Tar's clothes. If he waited, he could spot the lad and at the very least hand him a hat and a coat. Not the right fit maybe, but better something than nothing.

So instead of disappearing completely he'd only shuffled back a bit and to the side of the companionway thereupon deciding to wait. He couldn't hear anything going on and though his first plan was to find a better place to do so, his primary goal now was... pretty much seeing to it that Andrew was atleast somewhat presentable.

Did Mister Cartwright say brother? Oxley couldn't be sure, but whatever he'd said, there was going to be the most God-awful row. De Guarde had said he was a Shepherd, which meant that Tom Shepherd had to get him - de Guarde - not his actual twin brother.

Didn't it?

This was looking very black, suddenly, and he wondered if it would be the gunner's daughter for all four of them. He hunched his shoulders a little and hoped it didn't.