Drummer's Jacket, 26 May

The boy shook his head, finding the muster more a distraction than an interest at the moment. "Haven't, no. Just came n'..well I don't think they did." He scowled as if Thompson's mention had been an unwelcome straying off topic. "I tapped too. Did you hear? Lieutenant Cartwright tole me a compliment fer it! He did! Means he thought I did very good. See." He seemed a few cm taller, so proud he carried himself, and so excited he was by the recent events. It might have been similar if he had been made midshipman again, probably. But that was pretty much the only possible comparison. For the most part.

"You didn't know. Did you? That I was a drummer, till it was a while! Wos' good." Yes, the muster had not drawn even an ounce of attention from the boy.

"You need to go an' let 'em know you'm here, else they'll be scourin' the barky for you an' you'll get in a world of trouble," Thompson said, though he couldn't help smiling at de Guarde's words. "There won't be any more compliments from anyone if you don't, you know. Least, not for a while. You've had fun an' done a good job, don't go spoilin' it all now by not musterin' with the others. I'll still be here when you get back."

De Guarde scowled but made a turn. He hated it, but Thompson had a point, and it shouldn't be long, since they were not going to set sail yet. They were still in dock and would stay so till their officers decided different. With a jerk of his head and a sigh that was worse than the boy felt, made pointetly at Thompson too, he scampered towards the other men of his watch and waited as impatiently there for it to be over, as if the whole ship was on fire, and nobody saw it and wanted to listen to him shout it.

He peaked in the direction of Thompson then back, then finally satisfied himself with just looking there, impatiently. Was it over yet? Get it over with!

Thompson couldn't help smiling, even as he wondered whether the lad would be quite so willing to obey anyone else. You did have to tell him why to do something, more often than not, though that might have to do with the fact that Thompson was only a private. At least when the lad got back, it would be because there wasn't any work to be done this watch, though he'd have to make sure to stay on deck where de Guarde could be called if necesary.

The moment he was let free, or rather was permitted to depart, the lad skipped and scampered again towards George, not even deciding to make it less obvious where he meant to go. It was as straight a line as the deck allowed him, and had himself duck past a sailor that stood in his way, just to get further ahead.

The work for the moment did not consist of the usual, and as the men took over the other watch, it hardly resembled it to be much of an effort. The ship's suplies had been replenished already and any that would be added, had not yet arrived alongside of it, so that that sort of work was not yet calling the men to it. "Here, till they call me'uh again." He murmured and gazed up at the marine. "Think I'll have ter fetch summat, later." He added with not a very concerned shrug.

Thompson grinned and sat on the deck by the 32-pound carronade. "C'mon an' sit down then, lad," he said. "Sounds like you've got a lot to tell me." He held the stubby clay pipe with one hand and rested the wrist of the other on his upraised knee. "Had a busy day, by all accounts, you have. So tell me about it, then."

"Alright!" He exclaimed happily. "So.. where ought I start? Oh, I've .. that is, me, Oxley, n' t' Shepherds. We made it so I got ter learn how ter drum n' got ter get all dressed up. Got t' kit all fine n' new n' fixed so it would fit me!" He nodded sharply, and although he excitedly explained about his day, he was keeping his voice down so that Thompson would be the only one much hearing of it.

"So anyway. Then I want, n' took over t' watch. N'.. well, see, I was there standin' all like a proper drummer. Just like I was shown! N' nobody'd really know who it was.. Don't think. Some tars saw me, n' some recognised me aye. But they was all quiet, so that they wouldn't betray t' prank. Couse they understood that they oughtn't!" He studied the marine and grinned. "But then I ... then I was discovered by a middie. Boy, I was worried, couse I thought he'd just have me go off an.. you know t' middie. Fletcher? T' little one? So he saw me! N' recognised me too!" He shuddered at the thought of that.

"So.. so he didn' betray me though. See, he jus' tole me I was ill.. so I'd be replaced without any of them officers noticing. Couse till then they didn't. But then Cartwright was there n'.. well Oxley n' all that. Anyhow. Wot' came of it was, that I was sent 'b'low. But I wanted to know wot' was going on so I hung back. Couldn't hear anything, see anything. But i was there. Just..." and finally he took a breath, already having talked like a storm.

Thompson grinned. The lad chattered away nineteen to the dozen, barely even pausing for breath. He was obscurely glad that nobody had betrayed them, and even the young middy had done his best to get de Guarde replaced with a real drummer without anyone being any the wiser.

"So how did you end up back topside if Mister Fletcher had sent you below?" he asked when de Guarde finally paused for breath.

"Oh, this is where it gets real odd! Mister Cartwright. He sent me above again. Tole me it' was m' orders ter ..well be a drummer n' on watch there!" He looked brightly at Thompson, as if looking for a sort of confirmation of what a deed the man did. "Think he knew I could do it!" He said, though he wished to have known what Oxley had said, or what he and Mister Cartwright had talked of, and even if the Shepherd's were discussing any of it with the man.

"I think both Shepherds were sent below.. so as if they was ill. Anyhow! I was sent back up.. n' .. n' then t' time came! You know, ter sound t' drum fer t' officers feed. An' I did it! You heard it didn't you? That was me!" He beamed proudly at the marine. "Me al through. N' did no mistake! I did m' best too 'fcourse. Couse I knew how to do it! So anyway. Cartwright realised it too. See. He heard me, n' he tole me I did good!" It was the praise that had the boy near fly of the deck with happiness. Praise, compliments and a good word coming in on the account of his actions. This of course, said from an officer of the marines, for something he was learning and practicing so hard, was something of a jewel of his day.

"So.. so now I may join. Couse I impressed him enough I think. N' i'll be a drummer." He nodded. "Well, he asked me to think about it. But I know t' answer already! I will be a marine!" He concluded.

Thompson had to relight his pipe before he spoke, which gave him time to think what to say.

Compliments from the Marine officer, followed so soon by what was practically an offer of the shilling... Of course de Guarde wanted to join the Marines now. They were the only ones who'd ever told him he was good at something.

He took a breath. "I don't mean to rain on your p'rade, Mathew lad, but have you thought prop'ly about it? About what it'll mean for you, I mean. There won't be no goin' back, an' you'll not get to be an officer without some real good luck, if at all."

Though asking a boy of de Guarde's age to think about the future was almost as useful as asking him to pass the moon over.

"I thought o' it." Not for more than a few moments. His mind was set almost as soon as he was told there was an option for him that he could take. "I know there'l be no goin' back. .but why would I want to go back?.. I'll wear t' uniform n' look al smart. Like you." He indicated that with a wave of his hand. "n'.... n'. .well I'll be a marine. "Which also answered the question of how much he had thought on the topic and his decision.

He shrugged. "T' lieutenant said I did good. So it means I can do it, no problem! N'.. n' i won't need ter swab no deck." He made a face. "..couse I wouldn't be an officer anyway."

Thompson sighed. "I dunno what the Captain has in mind, Mathew, but he surely won't keep you afore the mast longer'n a few months. He ain't the sort who'd... who'd use his rank against any lad. He just thought that you could learn things 'bout people if you was a Tar, that you wouldn't learn if you stayed a young gentleman."

Though, if the offer really was a serious one, they would have to have Captain Bolitho's permission for the transfer to take place, and the captain could then tell the lad exactly why and how long de Guarde was likely to be before the mast.

"You thought about what your folks'll say when they hear about it?" he asked instead.

De Guarde was silent. Till his parents was mentioned he hadn't so much as spared a thought about them. So now, he shook his head and sighed. " I dun' care wot' they think." He muttered stubbornly. "N'.. they don't need to know fer long. Is' not like t' captain would send them a letter sayin' it.. or.. or summat. " He chewed on his lip. "..It's none of them business!"

"You haven't even told 'em you've bin disrated, have you?" Thompson pressed gently. "So how are they goin' to feel when they find you ain't no more'n a common Private, like me, with next to no chance of holdin' the King's commission?"

"No. I haven't. " He dropped his gaze quickly. In the last letter that he had sent them, he still spoke of him being a young midshipman, of being accomplished, even rewarded with a fine word. He wrote how great his life was even when he shared a hammock's place with the Tars. "....I..." He began, and bit on his lip.

"They'd just have ter accept it!" Which sounded somewhat less convinced.

"I can understand you not tellin' 'em about that. I can. But you'll have to tell 'em even'chally, so's you can explain why you chose to become a Marine, if do choose that."

He hated this. He wanted nothing more than for de Guarde to be happy, and for him to have found something he enjoyed doing and was good at, that he'd earned praise doing, to have the offer of being able to do that all the time, and then to have someone already doing that job tell him he should really keep dong something he didn't like... It hurt. There was no getting away from that.

"Think about it, anyway. You don't have to say yes, or no, right away. Think about it - I'm sure Mister Cartwright and Captain Bolitho will both tell you the same. Make sure you'm sure, really truly sure, it's what you want. And then make your choice."

He smiled at the lad. "It ain't an easy life, bein' a M'rine, y'know, lad."

"I know it ain't. " He had listened. This was actually surprising as he could've just let all Thompson's words go right over his head without sparing not even a second on trying to comprehend them. But he did listen, he just did not want to really understand where Thompson was coming from, with what he had said.

His parents would not have wanted him to be a marine. If they had, would he not have joined as such? Perhaps in a fashion that would make him a real officer. They chose a naval career for him instead. One that he had served all till his actions led him to be nought but a Tar. "I know it's hard, but it's not just hard. It's fun." As would one say, who had tried it but for a few moments. "..n' you look smart, n' you don't need ter row at all when you's going with a boat." He grinned at that. "..N' ...n' it's summat I liked doing! Summat I chose. N' summat captain Bolitho has no say about either! Not after he lets me become a marine." His parents though, they would have been shamed to learn their child not only stood before the mast on the account of his action, but that he was nought but a mere private marine. Equal to all those vagabonds and volunteers of the streets and out of pubs, and where else.

"You come to me after you've spent four bells standin' on duty down on the hangin' magazine, where nobody comes but the sergeant checkin' you ain't fallen asleep, an' then tell me it's 'fun'," Thompson said, blithely disregarding the fact that drummers didn't do sentry-go.

"You get made back up to middy, an' there ain't any reason to tell your folks you was ever afore the mast. Take the shillin', an' you'll have to, 'venchally. 'Cause when Terpsy gets paid off, they'll 'spect you to visit 'em, but you 'likely won't be allowed if you'm a private Marine like me. I only get to visit me own home 'cause I'm from Chatham an' that's where I 'listed an' did all me trainin'."

He slipped his free arm around the lad's shoulders, trying to comfort him a little. "Like I say, jus' think on it afore sayin' whether you will do it or not, eh?"

"I won't mind standin' in such a place. Even if'un it's just ferever me n' I'm bored out o' me mind. I wouldn't mind, couse..." He trailed off and listened to the marine leaning a bit closer only as the hand rested on his shoulders in a way of comfort. "...m' folk won't notice m' never comin' home. I wrote t' ....not truth's before. N' none o' em noticed it any different." It would've been strange to be the only private marine who's gifts and packages would not only be in the form of paper or not even that, but would include a small treat that might leave the 'son' better off.

"..They'll always think me a middie or a lieutenant.. or.... or summat. Couse I'll write them so." Which made sense and was a perfect solution to the problem. Atleast, in de guarde's mind and opinion.

"They'll get to wonderin', though, when you never write 'em about takin' the examination, or bein' put in charge of a prize, though." Maybe that was something best discussed with Mister Cartwright or the Captain.

He smiled, somewhat sadly. "You can allus come visit me mum, y'know, though it ain't anythin' like what you'm used to."

"Who says I can't write 'bout takin' t' exam.. jus' need ter ask t' right middie ter tell me how it wos'.. that an' I know already.. couse I knew one who failed.. n' failed." He was confused as to why Thompson did not just decide to be happy with him. Instead, he seemed to try and find so many reasons as to convince him that his decision was a bad one, if he picked the marines.

His interest was perked when Thompson suggested meeting his mother and the lad had his head nodding eagerly in response. He was probably at the right age to want to see the world, with all it's fine things and those less so. "...I would like to meet'er. N' see. She won't mind me comin' ter visit.. couse I'll be a marine too."

"She'm a whore, y'know," he reminded the lad. "Makes her livin' on her back." What could be a gross insult were anyone else to say it became no more than a statement of fact when spoken by Thompson. "Don't even know me father, let alone whether he's alive or dead or... or lost at sea or summat."

"..I still want to meet 'er." He hadn't met those sort of girls either, and though it sounded crude and everything that his own society would not consider of class, the lad's own mind was only wishful of seeing new places, new things and doing some things that he actually wanted to rather than being forced to.

"..... I could ask them ter let me have leave though... if a ship's paid off. N' they'd heed m' request, n' you know it."

Thompson smiled, but shook his head. "It don't work quite like that, lad, I'm afraid. Be nice if'n it did, though. You'll just have to come live where I do, that's all. Though it ain't a nice big grand house like you'm used to, o' course."

"Well. It don't matter. I live on a ship..it won't be no..trouble ter go n' live in a smaller place than n' me home." Said as one who had not looked further than his present situation, and who was all too excited about becoming a marine without considering perhaps, that it might not be all roses. "N'.. I'll swing m' hammock with you lot." He said, as if to give another good reason why it would be very fine to become a marine.

Only after a moment did he wonder why Thompson had been so against him joining, and why he was giving him warnings of which he had not wanted to know: "...Why aren't ye happy fer me, George? You make so many reasons why I ought not to take t' shilling! Make 'em up n' try to convince me, but why? Wouldn't yer be happy if I wos' a marine too?"