Patrick O'Brian - The Wine-Dark Sea

'Why, yes, sir. You will not think me impertinent if I observe that our countries, alas, are in a state of war.'

'So I understand. But wars are conducted according to certain forms. They are not wild riots in which anyone may join and seize whatever he can overpower; and I fear that if you can produce nothing better than the recollection of a letter wishing you every happiness you must be hanged as a pirate.'

'I am concerned to hear it. But as for prizes, as for the merely privateering aspects of the voyage, Mr Chauncy, my sailing-master, has a paper from his government. We sailed under American colours, you will recall. It is in a cover marked Mr Chauncy's qualifications and references in my writing-desk.'

'You did not bring it?'

'No, sir. The young gentleman with one arm told me there was not a moment to be lost, so I abandoned all my personal property.'

'I shall send for it. Pray describe the writing-desk.'

'An ordinary brass-bound walnut-tree writing-desk with my name on the plate; but there can be very little hope of finding it now.'

'Why do you say that?'

'My dear sir, I have seen sailors at work aboard a captured ship.'

Jack made no reply but glancing through the scuttle he saw that Bulkeley and his men had now raised a spar on the stump of her mizenmast, and that with an improvised lugsail she was lying with her head to the sea, lying much easier. The Surprise would be alongside in a few minutes.

'Have you any officer surviving unhurt?' he asked.

'None, sir. They were both killed.'

'A servant?'

'Yes, sir. He hid below, with the ransomers.'

'Killick. Killick, there. Pass the word for Captain Pullings.'

'Aye aye, sir: Captain Pullings it is,' replied Killick, who could give a civil answer when guests or prisoners of rank were present: but instead of Pullings there appeared young Norton, who said, 'I beg pardon, sir, but Captain Pullings and Mr Grainger are at the masthead, getting the top over. May I carry them a message?'

'Are they got so far so soon? Upon my word! Never worry them at such a delicate point, Mr Norton. Jump up on deck yourself, borrow a speaking-trumpet and hail the Franklin, telling Bonden and Plaice to have Mr Dutourd's servant, sea-chest and writing-desk ready to be brought across as soon as there is a moment to spare. But first take this gentleman into the gunroom and tell the steward to bring him whatever he calls for. I am going into the foretop.'

'Aye aye, sir. Mr Dutourd's servant, sea-chest and writing-desk as soon as there is a moment; and Mr Dutourd to the gunroom.'

Dutourd opened his mouth to speak, but it was too late. Jack, throwing off his coat, sped from the cabin, making the deck tremble as he went. Norton said, 'This way, sir, if you please,' and some minutes later the message reached Bonden's ear as he and his mates were hauling an uninjured topmast aboard by its shrouds. He in turn hailed the bosun: 'Mr Bulkeley, there. I must take Mr Dutourd's servant, chest and writing-desk across. May I have the skiff?'

'Yes, mate,' replied the bosun, his mouth filled with rope-yarns, 'unless you had sooner walk. And bring me back a pair of girt-lines and two long-tackle blocks. And the coil of one-and-a-half-inch manila abaft the fore hatchway.'

Jack returned to the cabin with the liveliest satisfaction: in spite of the absence of Mr Bulkeley and many very able seamen the Surprise had made an extraordinary recovery. It was true that she had at least half a dozen forecastlemen who, apart from the paper-work, could have served with credit as bosun in a man-of-war, and it was true that as Jack was wealthy she was uncommonly well supplied with stores; yet even so the change from the chaos of first light to the present approach to trim efficiency was very striking. At this rate the frigate, with four new pairs of preventer-stays set up in the morning, would be able to carry on under topsails and courses tomorrow; for the trades were already steadying over a more nearly normal sea.

'Pass the word for Mr Dutourd,' he called.

'Which his name is really Turd,' observed Killick to his mate Grimshaw before making his way to the gunroom to wake the red-eyed Frenchman.

'There you are, sir,' said Jack, as he was led into the cabin. 'Here is your sea-chest, and here is what appears to be your writing-desk,' pointing to a box whose brass plate, already automatically polished by Killick, bore the name Jean du Tourd clear and plain.

'I am amazed,' cried Dutourd. 'I never thought to see them again.'

'I hope you will be able to find the cover you spoke of.'

'I am sure I shall: the desk is still locked,' said Dutourd, feeling for his keys.

'I ask pardon, sir,' said Mr Adams, Jack's highly-valued clerk, 'but it wants less than a minute to the hour.'

'Forgive me, Monsieur,' cried Jack, leaping from his seat. 'I shall be back in a few moments. Pray search for your paper.'

He and Adams had been carrying out a chain of observations, always made at stated intervals: wind direction and strength, estimated current, barometrical pressure, compasss variations, humidity, temperature of the air (both wet bulb and dry) and of the sea at given depths together with the salinity at those depths, and the blueness of the sky, a series that was to be carried round the world and communicated to Humboldt on the one hand and the Royal Society on the other. It would be a great pity to break its exact sequence at such a very interesting point.

A long pause; nautical cries; the click-click-click of capstan-pawls as a great spar rose up: and almost immediately after the cry of 'Belay!' Captain Aubrey returned.

'I have found the certificate,' said Dutourd, starting up from his half-doze and handing him a paper.

'I rejoice to hear it,' said Jack. He sat down at his desk; but having read the letter attentively he frowned and said, 'Yes, this is very well, and it allows Mr William B. Chauncy, who was I presume your sailing-master, to take, burn, sink or destroy ships or vessels belonging to His Britannic Majesty or sailing under British colours. But it makes no mention of Mr Dutourd. No mention at all.'

Dutourd said nothing. He was yellow-pale by now: he put his hand to his bandaged head, and Jack had the impression that he no longer cared whether he was to be hanged as a pirate or not, so long as he was allowed to lie down in peace for a while.

Jack considered for some moments and then said, 'Well, sir, I must say you are an anomalous kind of prisoner, rather like the creature that was neither flesh nor fowl nor good red herring but partook of each: the Sphinx. You are a sort of owner, a sort of commander, though absent from the muster-roll, and a sort of what I can only call a pirate. I am not at all sure what I ought to do with you. As you have no commission I cannot treat you as an officer: you cannot berth aft.' Another pause, during which Dutourd closed his eyes. 'But fortunately the Surprise is a roomy ship with a small company, and right forward on the lower deck we have made cabins for the gunner, the bosun and the carpenter. There are still two to spare and you shall have one of them. Since you have no surviving officers you will have to mess by yourself, but I dare say the gunroom will invite you quite often; and of course you may have the liberty of the quarterdeck.'

Dutourd made no acknowledgement of this offer. His head drooped, and the next roll pitched him right out of his seat, head first. Jack picked him up, laid him on the cushioned stern lock and called for Killick.

'What are you a-thinking of, sir?' cried his steward. 'Don't you see he is bleeding like a pig from under his bandage?' Killick whipped into the quarter-gallery for a towel and thrust it under Dutourd's head. 'Now I must take all them covers off and soak them this directly minute in cold fresh water and there ain't no cold fresh water, which the scuttle-butt is empty till Chips comes back and shifts the hand-pump.'