“There’s a boat comin’ offshore, sir,” a bosun’s mate told Ashburn, pointing over the starboard rail. “Headed fer us, I thinks.”
“Very well. Hail him, Mister Lewrie.”
“Boat ahoy!” Alan shouted.
“Aye aye!” came the answering hail, meaning the boat was for them, and from the fingers stuck in the air by the bowman, there was a full captain aboard.
“Bosun’s Mate, muster the sideparty,” Lewrie ordered. “Another ghoul come to marvel, I expect. I feel like the gatekeeper at Bedlam. Poking sticks, sir? Stir ’em up? Water squirts? Only a penny more.” He wheezed, rubbing his hands.
A youngish post captain came in through the entry port and did a long survey of the splintered and stained decks, the lack of guns, and the many repairs still being done to the bulwarks. He carried a large canvas bundle of papers tied up with many fluttering ribbons.
“Welcome aboard, sir,” Ashburn said.
“Stuyckes, flag captain to Rear Admiral Sir Onsley Matthews. I am here to see your captain.”
“This way, sir, if you please,” Ashburn smiled smarmily. “Here, you. Inform the captain of Captain Stuyckes’ arrival. You know, sir, I was looking forward to coming to Antigua. Sir Onsley is well known to my family in London.”
“Here, you, indeed,” Lewrie grumbled as he ran off to inform Bales that he had a visitor, he being the “here, you” in question. I don’t think this is going to be one of those friendships that lasts for generations, Keith. And if I ever have a daughter, God help her, your son can go hang before he marries her.
But it didn’t seem as if Keith’s toadying was getting him anywhere with Captain Stuyckes, since that worthy wore an expression more in keeping with a funeral, and whatever his business with Captain Bales was, it didn’t look like it was to be a social call.
News of the visit did not take long to circulate through the vessel, so quite a few interested parties made it their business to take the air either on the quarterdeck, or as close as they could get to it.
“The flag captain, was he?” Ellison asked the general vicinity.
“A Captain Stuyckes, sir,” Lewrie volunteered. “With a bundle of papers all bound in ribbons.”
“Then it’s bad news, no doubt of it,” Ellison said bitterly. “Poor old girl, shot to pieces.”
“You mean they might not be able to repair the ship, sir?” Alan wondered aloud.
“She’s bad sprung. Twenty years old, she is, and only brought out of ordinary because we need ships bad. You ask ‘Chips,’ she’s half rotten, and now too bad gut-shot to be repaired. Not out here, not in the tropics. Might make a powder hulk.”
“So there might be a possibility I could end up in another ship?” Lewrie speculated with a tingle of hope for better chances.
“Aye, a lot of us, most like,” Ellison said, considering his slim chances for future employment. Another sailing master would have to die before he could be taken aboard a ship already in commission. He could be temporarily derated to master’s mate “for the good of the Service” and spend years trying to get his pay straightened out after stoppages.
“Shore duty for me, then, and my Marines,” Osmonde said. “Some garrison work would not go amiss.”
“I’d love to get a frigate,” Lewrie announced.
“Wouldn’t we all?” Ellison snarled, stalking off.
“A chance to see more action, eh?” Osmonde asked Lewrie.
“Aye, sir. As long as I have to be in the Navy, what better duty is there?”
“Amazing what a taste of powder smoke can do for a boy.”
“You were right, Mister Osmonde,” Lewrie said. “I almost ran and hid, but I didn’t. Or couldn’t. And then I didn’t have any time to think about it, I just did it. It was terrifying, and I thought I had gone mad. But never more alive.”
“And you did extremely well,” Osmonde told him. “In fact, you may be the only one to garner any credit from our encounter. One word of advice?”
“Aye, sir, your advice has been good.”
“Don’t go dashing madly after more fame and glory. They are always bigger than you are, and will eat you right up.”
“The captain said much the same thing, sir. At least, I think he did,” Lewrie replied, repeating Bales’ admonition.
“Hmm, I fear Captain Bales and I do not mean the same thing at all. Of course, he is right, in a way. This service is very political. Whig, Tory, City interests, country interests. Anyone who makes a name will always be desperately envied, and there’s a hundred people ready to run you through for your position. You must be cautious about the people you anger on your way up, and the people you espouse. But in your actions, too much caution can get you killed, or ruined. It’s a fine line to walk, like the edge of a sharp sword.”
The sideparty formed again as Captain Stuyckes took his leave of them. He was even grimmer in aspect than when he had come aboard, and most conspicuously, was without his bundle of papers.
“Lewrie,” Kenyon called as they were breaking up the side-party. “Pass the word to all the midshipmen to be sure to wash and dress in their best uniforms in the morning. You’ll be called to the flag,” Kenyon ordered sternly. “You and a few of the others shall be called upon to testify at the court-martial.”
“Eh?” Were they going to try Rolston?
“Ariadne has been condemned,” Kenyon said bleakly, his own hopes for the future seemingly dashed. “Since she has been lost to the Fleet, the captain and the first lieutenant are to face charges in her loss.”
* * *
Just after breakfast, at one bell of the Forenoon watch, a gun boomed from the flag of the Inshore Squadron which Ariadne had been to join, the fifty-gun 4th Rate Glatton. A court-martial jack went up her masts, and boats from several ships in harbor converged on her, boats bearing the five captains that made a court-martial panel, and boats from shore bearing wounded witnesses, as well as two cutters from Ariadne, with her sorrowful-looking party. Once aboard, Bales and Swift were called aft to the admiral’s cabins while Lewrie and the rest were led below to Glatton’s wardroom and told to wait. Shirke was also there, his arm encased in a set of boards and wrapped with leather.
“I understand we are unemployed,” Shirke whispered to Lewrie as he gave up his chair to him.
“Accommodations ship, they tell me,” Lewrie said softly. “We may be kept on. But I expect the fleet here in the islands is in sore need of people, what with sickness and all.”
“Pray God they’ve just had the plague,” Shirke said, then grinned. “What about our party?”
“I have five pounds of yours,” Lewrie told him. “But with you laid up—”
“Just get me a gentle one and I’ll take my fences as well as anyone. What’s my share?”
“Three crown, say a pound total with tip for supper, rooms and wine. A guinea for the whore.”
“A guinea? For a guinea, she’d better be Salome!”
“Quiet, you two!” Kenyon admonished, from across the room.
One at a time they were called upon as the morning wore on. First Kenyon as ranking officer, then the warrants. Ashburn went and was back in minutes.
“That was quick,” Lewrie said as a cabin steward circulated a tray of fresh coffee about the wardroom and he used it as an excuse to get close to Ashburn. “How was it?”
“It doesn’t look too good for them,” Ashburn muttered. “There wasn’t much I could tell them, except that I was on the quarterdeck, and never heard a word about clearing for action. Um, good coffee. First real article I’ve had in weeks.”