and went along without another word, too disheartened to speak.
Behind the canvas screen Stephen told him to take off his clothes, poked him in the belly and groin, and said, ‘You lift heavy weights in your trade.’
‘Oh no, sir,’ said Yeats in a low spiritless voice, ‘we only carry – ’
‘Do not presume to contradict me,’ said Stephen sharply. ‘You answer questions when they are asked and not before, do you hear?’
‘Beg pardon, sir,’ said Yeats, closing his eyes.
‘You lift heavy weights. Here are the signs of an incipient hernia. I am afraid we shall have to refuse you. It is not serious yet, but you are to drink very little ale or wine, and no strong waters at all; you are to forswear tobacco, that nasty vice, and are to be let blood three times a year.’
In the great after-cabin, the Captain’s drawing-room, music-room, refuge and delight, Jack paced to and fro, dictating to a knowing old confidential clerk, lent by his friend the Commissioner: ‘Captain Aubrey presents his best compliments to Lord Alton and very much regrets that the Worcester is not a suitable ship for a young gentleman the age of his lordship’s son; she carries no schoolmaster, and the nature of her present duties precludes – precludes my acting as a goddam dry-nurse: use that excellent expression you thought of for the others, Mr Simpson, if you please. But if the boy were put to a good mathematical school when he is twelve and taught the rudiments of trigonometry, navigation, English and French grammar for a year or so, Captain Aubrey would be happy to attend to his lordship’s wishes in the event of his being appointed to some more eligible command.’
‘Lord Alton has a good deal of interest with Government you know sir,’ observed the clerk, an acquaintance of many years standing.
‘I am sure he has,’ said Jack, ‘and I am sure he will soon find a more biddable captain. Now much the same to Mr Jameson: but in this case his boy is too old. He may be very good at Latin and Greek, but he does not know the difference between a logarithm and a log; besides, very few young fellows take well to the sea at fifteen. What next? Tell me, do you know anything about this nephew of Admiral Brown’s?’
‘Well, sir, he seemed a heavy young gentleman to me: his last captain turned him on shore, and I am told he failed to pass for lieutenant at Somerset House.’
‘Ay, I dare say. I saw him make a sad cock of putting the yawl about when he was in Colossus: he was drunk at the time. But I believe I must take him. His uncle was very good to me when I was a boy. We will try to sharpen his wits: then he may pass at Gibraltar, and perhaps the Admiral will make him for his uncle’s sake – they were shipmates in the time of the Spanish Armament, I recall,’ said Jack, gazing out of the stern-window and seeing the Hamoaze of more than twenty years ago, just as crowded with men-of-war even then, and himself a brand-new lieutenant, shedding happiness all round him like the rising sun, taking the two officers in question ashore in the gig. ‘I will write that letter myself,’ he said. ‘As for young Savage and Maitland, they may certainly come. But now there is this very delicate confidential semi-official letter to Admiral Bowyer about the remaining lieutenants: Mr Collins and Mr Whiting I know nothing of, except that they are very young, near the bottom of the list; but Mr Somers I will not have if I can possibly avoid it.’
‘The Honourable Mr Somers,’ said Simpson in a significant tone.
‘No doubt, but he is an idle fellow and no seaman at all – too rich for his own good or the comfort of the mess he is in – cannot hold his wine and has not the mother-wit to leave it alone. Imagine him taking the middle watch in dirty weather on a lee-shore – imagine sending him away with the boats on a cutting-out expedition – that would be sporting with men’s lives indeed. I have no notion of people making the service a mere convenience for themselves, as if it were a public establishment for loungers. No. We must phrase it with great care, pointing out most respectfully that we will be damned if we receive him on board rather than one of the two other gentlemen we have put in for, Thorneycroft and Patterson: they are both on shore, as I know very well.’
‘Mr Widgery of the Yard to see you, sir,’ said Killick.
‘Oh yes,’ said Jack, ‘that will be about my topmasts. Mr Simpson, you may think it as well to advise with the Commissioner about this letter; and perhaps you would let me see your draft this evening. There is not a moment to lose: the hound may report aboard any day, and then it will be much harder to get rid of him. And please tell Mrs Fanshaw, with all proper expressions, that I should be very happy to dine with her and the Commissioner on Sunday. You will take a glass with Mr Widgery before you go?’
‘You are very kind, sir. But before I forget it, Captain Fanshaw begs you will enter his sister’s grandchild on the books, before the muster is made up. Name of Henry Meadows, rising eight, a likely lad.’
‘Of course,’ said Jack. ‘What rating? Captain’s servant looks as well as any. Killick, show Mr Widgery in, and bring the madeira.’
The evening gun boomed out over Hamoaze, Catwater and the Sound; lights began to twinkle from Plymouth, from Dock, and from the floating town of men-of-war, each one a village in itself. Those from the Worcester’s great cabin showed brighter than most, because her captain still had a great deal of paper-work to do, and he had lit his patent Argand lamp: statements from the receiving-ships lay on his table, together with indents for carpenter’s, gunner’s and bosun’s stores, huge rolls from the Victualling Yard, and the first outline of a watch-list, the result of some hours of close consultation between him and his first lieutenant; but superimposed upon these neat heaps lay some sheets of music in manuscript, his violin beside them; and it was these that he was studying when Stephen walked in.
‘There you are, Stephen,’ said Jack. ‘Killick, Killick there. The toasted cheese, d’ye hear me? Stephen, I am happy to see you.’
‘Sure, you look quite happy, too. Have you had a good day?’
‘Tolerable, I thank you, tolerable. I must say the Commissioner has done us proud for once: we have something not far from our complement of hands, and he has promised to turn over half the Skates when she pays off tomorrow.’
‘The little small ship that came in after us, with a shark’s tail nailed to its prow? With all your eager hopeful greed for men you can hardly expect many out of a mere floating band-box.’
‘To be exact, brother, she is a brig; and although her ship’s company may not amount to a very great many, they have served a four-year commission together in the West Indies under young Hall, a very fine seaman; they have seen a mort of action, and I dare say every man-jack can be rated able. We are most uncommon lucky to be able to snap ’em up, I do give you my word.’
‘Perhaps the Skates may esteem themselves less fortunate, turned over without seeing their friends after four years away.’
‘It is hard,’ said Jack. ‘Very hard. But then war is a very cruel hard business.’ He shook his head, but brightening again he said, ‘And the Yard has done the handsome thing about my stump topgallants and separate royals – quite agreed with me about their lessening the strain, and will let me have them in the morning, out of the old Invincible.’
‘Wittles,’ said Killick. ‘Which I have put ’em in the dining-cabin. Not an inch of room on this here table,’ – looking angrily at the papers.
‘Indeed,’ said Jack as they ate their supper, ‘I do not remember an easier, more satisfactory manning. We have a good third of our people seamen, able and ordinary confounded, not counting the Skates; and many of the others look stout, promising material.’
‘There were many sad brutish grobians among those I examined,’ said Stephen, who was feeling disagreeable and contradictory: he loathed the whole business of impressment.
‘Oh, of course there are always some odd fish among the quota-men sent by the magistrates; but this time we have very few downright thieves: only one parricide, that was found incapable of pleading and sent to the Navy; and after all he will scarcely carry on his capers