Drummer's Jacket, 26 May

"I would be, but you've got to think... When you'm as old as me, you'll wonder why you chose to do it. You won't be a gentleman no more an' you'll regret decidin' to give it up jus' 'cause you thought bein' a Marine would be a bit of fun. You've got to think real carefully about it 'cause there won't be any goin' back if you do decide to wear the red coat. So there ain't no point in sayin' yes to it and doin' all your thinkin' too late."

"..But.." The lad began and sighed, for Thompson made him think, and thinking made him worry. He saw the marine's profession as something good, yet it was also as Thompson had said. He could not become a captain, if he were a marine. Not that sort of captain as Bolitho was. He could not pass for lieutenant or ever be a midshipman. But would that be so bad? Did he have to live by his parent's expectations, did he have to ask them for permission before he would decide on the best course? He expected their answer, as the one, which they would give when they learned he had been disrated.

It wouldn't be agreement. Perhaps they'd even think it was due to the influence on the ship, that his mind was set so, and see to pull strings to have him placed elsewhere. A different ship. Back onto his old one, which he had spoken well of, even when he meant ill. "..but..it don't matter I's no gennle'man. I ain't talkin' like one fer a while now... anyways." He mumbled, some of that excitement crushed.

"I know. I just want you to think first, make sure you can live with what you decide, that's all."

He looked at the lad in concern. His voice had sounded drained, flat and a little listless. He pulled the boy a bit closer, tightening the hug to try to reassure him a bit.

"If you decide it's what you want, I won't stop you, an' I'll show you how to do things the way they should be done. I just don't want you to find yourself wishin' someone had told you that it ain't all sunshine an' roses, that you wish you'd stayed where you were. Where you are now." He shrugged. "But at the end of the day, it's your life an' I ain't goin' to stop you doin' whatever you want to do with it."

"You'll teach me?" He would have liked it no other way. He closed his eyes, his hands wounding carelessly around the marine. A proper hug it was now, and his hands tightened a bit, a small sigh escaping him. He wasn't happy that Thompson had told him to rethink, to think hard and well about it. It made it feel as if he was taking a journey into the waters he knew nothing about. Although that was exactly what it was, he had wanted to feel more reassured about it, and not afraid that he was missing out on an important detail. Having Thompson mention his own folk delievered yet another blow to his confidence. He had tried to forget them ever since he had become a Tar, and only allowed them in his mind when he was to write a letter. A letter which was so fine, and depicted his life in the navy as one if not of constant success, atleast as one that they could be proud of.

But Thompson had said that they could mind. What was worse, his decision to disrate himself further into becoming permenantly a private could take what sense of 'high status' he had had. His speech of course was nothing to aspire to, his words mangled and twisted beyond recognition. He could still have spoken in a proper way, and put an effort to make the bows when they were at, and know how to eat with several sets of cutlery at a table.

With his eyes still closed, and himself hugging and ignoring the world about him, he whispered, rather softly: "You won't mind.. if I become a marine?"

"Aye, I will," Thompson said, a little surprised, but pleasantly so, as the lad slipped an arm around him to hug him. He smiled. "Mind? Why should I mind you becomin' a Marine? Of course I won't mind."

It would be a way for the lad to make his own way in the world and to learn who he was without the bullying and everything that had coloured his perception of the Navy. Maybe it would do him good, even. Though for a certainty his parents wouldn't like it.

"Then it's good. I'll think on it, couse ...couse you tole me so. But I don't think I'll change m' mind.. so it will be all up to Bolitho. ..t' captain.. if he lets me or if he don't." He looked content, even happy again. And in all that made no move to actually move or release his hold. It felt comforting, and he felt safe and somewhat untroubled by the worries and problems which he might face in time to come.

"N'.. glad you won't." Mind that is. Though he did not openly admit it, he did wish to have some sort of comfirmation, agreement, even coming from the marine. After all, Thompson was along other things, his teacher too and one who just knew and was smart and so far had not been proven wrong, no matter how much effort De Guarde put into finding a way to do that.

"N'.. you promise I can go with you ter Chatham.. ter ye place, if t' ship gets payed off n' I'm a marine n'..well all that sort? Like you said."

Well, at least the lad had said he would think about it, though Thompson didn't know how much thought he really would give it.

"Course you can come with me to me home. Though, I told you afore, it ain't anythin' like you'm used to. All narrow alleys and courts, most o' which ain't even half as wide acrost as the deck of this here Terpsy, from one door to the next. Dark an' smelly, but it's where I lived afore I took the shillin'."

He'd only been about de Guarde's age when he'd done so, too, but he had nothing to look forward to in his life if he didn't but cold and hunger and probably a short life before being found dead in the gutter.

"Well, I can bear it. If you think it, I've been muckin' t' stalls of them horses, n' they sure smell when they be ...uh.. " He colored even so as he used the word: "pissin' ...n' all that all over t' place." He hid his face not to show that he was in any manner or way still sensitive about saying certain words. ".. n' so does t' heads of our 'noble' Tars n' men." He said simply to show that he had no trouble and had seen the worst of it, ignorant as he was in what could be worse.

"N'.. I've been in t' hold.. narrow as can be.., t' bowels of t' ship, you'd go about in. Real dark, darker even than you can imagine, n' narrow n' even when it's not. .it's like a world all of its own." He looked at Thompson with a small grin. "So you nay need ter warn me about it all. I've been ready. Been made ready." He shrugged a little. "I'd done more n' any o' lads m' sort n' me age. An.....wot' did you think about me drummin'? If'un you didn't know it was me or seen me there, would you think it was me?"

"Aye, but one day doin' the dirty jobs ain't a lifetime of livin' in a rookery," Thompson pointed out, his voice mild. "I will say one thing, though. Whatever you decide, however you want to live, try to save your money. Pay an' prize money both. You never know when you'll need it, to live on."

He chuckled. "No. If I hadn't seen it was you, I'd've thought it was Sticks or his brother. Not Oxley - he'd done his duty an' bin relieved, hadn't he?" He shook his head, grinning. "How'd you get time to learn it, an' so well?"

"Hmph. But t' impression lasts fer a life time, even if it were jus' one day!" He thought his clothes smelled for ages after. Even now he wasn't sure that the other pair had gone and was actuallly of the usual scent.

"Save m' money? " That was a concept for a man who knew that money was hard to come by. But for a young one, who thought he could still fall back on things, who had not been at that much loss of things except the time when he could not have entered the cat-house for it, well for such a boy money saving was a slightly harder concept, only understood with getting a greater amount of drink for it.

"Ha." He looked as proud as a peacock. "Oh, I've been learnin' it.. firs' been shown it n'all by Oxley, n' all that. Then I did it when I had m' free time n' nobody was about. Done n' gone ter a place where I knew i'd be left alone. N' jus' did it. Said ter me self.. This 'un now. Got Tom to show me, tried it again. They helped you know. Jus' so I knew how exactly I had ter do it." He shrugged. It took some of his free time and kept his mind of drink. Which this moment did not. "Could celebrate tho'.. you know." He said with a grin. "Couse I wos' successful, n' none of t' officers 'cept young Fletcher who's not yet 'zactly one.. jus' a middie, and mister Cartwright noticed. See, t' lieutenants didn't see, nor t' captain! Worth celebratin' for. " And then with a much more mischevious look in his eyes. "Got any grog?"

"If you do decide to join us, there's no... no certainty your folks'll give you any more money or anythin'. You'll likely be left to make your own way in the world, y'know."

Young boys. They were all the same, really. Six months seemed like eternity, there was no need to save anything, things would always work out the way they wanted... And there was always grog for the asking.

"You did very well to pull it off," he said, grinning. "Don't think I'd've had the courage to do it, if I was in your place. It was very well done, all round."

"No. Ain't got no grog till dinnertime tomorrow, when it's 'Up Spirits', have I? Same as you."

De Guarde chewed on his lip considering Thompson's words. No more money to come from his parents would have been a drastic change enough. To have no longer the permission to enter the vastness of their home, nor to enjoy the sight of balls and of men and women of status dancing about or feasting on grand dinners... could Thompson be right? Would all of that seize to exist at the reach of his hand the moment he was to place himself as a marine private and to stand alongside all of them others, along side the common folk, even the lowly.

He looked up at the marine, and his doubts were gone. It would work out somehow. The graveness of Thompson's words would not come to be realized. Perhaps his family would bear this.. perhaps they would never have known or perhaps.. there would be a way to still visit them and retell a lie, live one.

"You speak of miserable things, George. But I know.. it won't all be that bad. Though I'm sure I' also earn so much.. because we will be lucky an' have many ships caught by us and brought into port. But fear not.. I will...not need to worry 'bout money. I don't gamble no. And that's the finest way to loose it, be it a noble man or not." He nodded, convincing himself. "See, You may tell me I won't get nothing.. but you're wrong. Because... things just don't go that way. They turn out good sometime. An' they can't be bad for me. They'd been going that way for so long they will change! They 's changing already."

As he finished with that speech he grinned. Thompson just said he was brave. Not directly and with those words, but he did say he would not have been brave enough to do it, which meant that by doing it himself, he was brave! He hugged the man a bit tighter again, to thank him for that and then laughed merrily. "I haven't got a fear, see. But they don't know it, thinking I'm all bad. But I ain't. I'm brave too n'.." At the mention of no grog he scowled. "Sure you do have some. T' Tars keep theirs hidden, I bet. Don't you marines, too? Fer times o' celebration, n'all that?"

"I'm sure it won't all be that bad, but you do have to think of what you're givin' up, an' be sure it's worth it."

He smiled as the lad tightened to hug momentarily. "Sorry, I ain't got no grog. Sure, there might be folks who hoard it, but I ain't one of 'em. Not after that time I got so drunk I couldn't see straight, anyhow."

"Hmph. I know... ain't fair that you don't though. Could jus' hoard it a wee bit fer me , you know. It ain't as if you'd be drinking it." He suggested, rather innocently. "But....even so.. if ye'um don't." Which he sure regretted. "...Um...... we'll celebrate tomorrow?..I would sure like to, n' I'll only get drunk when I ain't going anywhere ter work.. so's as.... I won't get in trouble for it." If Bolitho did not see, Bolitho would not care, it was the same for all the others too. If Leat did not, or Bush, or any of the middies, they would not know.. and thus not care.

"Not even for you, I couldn't. You don't hoard yourn for me, do you?" He leaned back against the ship's side. "There's other ways of celebratin' without gettin' drunk, y'know. Don't want to risk you gettin' in trouble, not now." He took a couple more puffs on his pipe, and shook his head. "Gone out again. "Let me have me arm back a minute to re-light this, would you?"

"Well, I do get stuff on board... though not as if I was that successful lately." He answered back and thought of that bottle he'd brought aboard after they had fought and taken the fort. Did it still have any drink? He would have to look. Maybe if it did and there was enough, he could prove Thompson wrong for once. Share his drink with him and thus make his earlier statement anything but correct.

"Oh? Do tell me one way yer can celebrate without drink, couse I'm real curious." He answered with a grin, a challenge in his voice. He tightened his hold on the arm and looked up innocently. "Hmph.. wait. I'll let it go for a short while in a moment... maybe."

"I heard of folks celebratin' special 'casions with cake," Thompson said, grinning. "And I dunno if you'd call it a celebration, 'zackly, but there's some wonderful skylarkin' happens when a ship crosses the Line." He assumed an innocent look.

De Guarde had no idea what happened to people when the line was crossed. Nor what sort of line Thompson was talking about. If it was the sort of line that the Captain set, and if you crossed it, it meant you would upset him, then it was certainly not the sort of thing worth celebrating. He thought harder. If it was a line drawn on deck he'd never seen such a game. Again, why would one be merry about it?

"....We will cross the line today?" He asked, thinking Thompson was actually innocent and not actually in on the joke!

Mister Cartwright did not linger long over his meal. Conversation was sparse, fortunately, and he made his excuses shortly after clearing his plate. He had not yet seen the boy De Guarde, to speak with him about his options, but thought it might be best to have the lad present when he spoke with Captain Bolitho on the matter.

With this thought in mind, he sent Foley to find the lad and send him aft.

"No, the Line is... It's the Line where North and South meet," he said, and shrugged. "I don't understand it, meself, but there's a big sort of ceremony an' a skylarkin' when we crosses it." He glanced up as a fellow Marine approached them and said that Mister Cartwright would like to see de Guarde at his convenience.

"Means now, lad." Thompson grinned. "Seems the Lieutenant wants to tell you for his own self."

"Goin'." They could finish their conversation later, the officers had priority, even more so when said officers were wearing a coat of a marine. De Guarde grinned slipped past Thompson, and looked back. He studied Thompson for a moment, grinned again, balls his hands into fists and avoided tugging at the sleeve of his shirt.

He was passing men at a near run, ducked once or twice, gave a sharp turn at another, and nearly colided with one of the Tars that were not of his watch. "'scuse me'." And he was gone, only slowing when he saw Cartwright,. There he made it to a quick walk. "Sir."

Cartwright dismissed Foley with a nod, then looked the seaman over, quickly. "De Guarde. You will have already heard from young Oxley, I trust. Have you considered the matter at all?"

"I have. I've been considerin' it all since I've heard it be told ter me, sir." He said hastly. He hadn't expected to find himself a bit out of breath. But that's was what one got, if they were running most of the way. "Even talked ter.. ter a marine about it, so as ter get a proper perspective, sir." He wanted Cartwright to know that he valued the offer just so much that he would put all effort into making his decision right, rather than one of speed and little consideration.

Of course. Cartwright nodded slightly. "A wise move. I am on my way to speak with the captain about this, as a possibility. If you would care to be present...?"

It was an open offer, so the lad might know how likely the whole thing actually was. Cartwright himself was not positive how to go about arranging it, but of course he could never admit it.

"Yes , sir. I would be glad to, if I am permitted." He said and straightened at best he could, holding his chin up and his hands at his sides. He could be so polite if he wanted, and needed.