Patrick O'Brian - The Mauritius Command

Mr Fortescue, though freely admitting the justice of Dr Maturin's observations in general, had indeed been more fortunate, particularly in respect of the great albatross, Diomedea exulans, to which the Doctor had so feelingly referred: he had been cast away on Tristan da Cunha, where he had lived with and upon albatrosses, thousands and thousands of albatrosses, to say nothing of the penguins, terns, skuas, prions, the indigenous gallinule and a hitherto nondescript finch. He had sat with albatrosses right through their incubation; he had weighed, measured, and eaten their eggs; he had attended to their nuptial ceremonies; and, having been cast away with a piece of pencil and the Complete Practical Navigator, whose blank pages served for notes and measurements, he had, to the best of his poor abilities, drawn them.

"And were you indeed able to make illustrated notes?" cried Stephen, his eyes gleaming. "How I wish, oh how I wish, that you might be persuaded to communicate them, at some not too distant time!"

As it happened, said Mr Fortescue, reaching for the book, they were just at hand, entirely at Dr Maturin's service; and he rather thought that there might be some specimens--eggs, skins, and bones--in the locker upon which he sat.

They were still with their albatrosses at nightfall, when the chaotic mountains of La Reunion stood black against the afterglow, and when Jack, with the taste of brass in his mouth and an aching head, began his pacing of the poop, glancing westward at each turn, although there could not be the slightest chance of seeing the Wasp much before dawn. It was a pacing that continued as the stars swept widdershins round the southern sky and watch succeeded watch: nervous and uneasy at first, it settled into a mechanical to and fro of his body, leaving his mind to run clear. By this stage he was fairly peaceful, and between watching the stars he ran over his calculations, always coming up with the same comforting result: La Reunion lay at the apex of a triangle whose base was the squadron's course during the afternoon and then the night, its southern arm the Wasp's path taking Stephen in, an arm some fifty miles long. He had kept the squadron under topsails alone, and having checked the rate of sailing each time the log was heaved he was confident that they would have run off eighty miles at about four bells in the morning watch, reaching the point at which the northern arm of the triangle, that of the schooner bringing Stephen back, should meet the base, making a neat isosceles of the whole. In these seas, with their perfectly steady wind, such calculations could be made with remarkable accuracy; and here the only important variable was the time Stephen spent ashore, which Jack provisionally set at three hours.

The middle watch wore on: once a flying squid struck against the great stern-lantern: otherwise the quiet nightroutine of the ship moved along its invariable course. The wind sang an even note in the rigging, the water slipped along the side, the phosphorescent wake stretched out, a straight line broken by the bow-wave of the Otter, two cables" lengths astern; and at each stroke of the bell the sentinels called out from their stations, "All's well', "All's well', right round the ship and up and down the squadron.

"I hope to God they are right," said Jack. He stepped down to the quarterdeck and looked at the log-board again. He was strongly tempted to go up into the top or even to the masthead; but that would singularize the whole thing too much--draw too much attention to it--and he returned to his lonely poop, only desiring the officer of the watch to send a good man aloft with a night-glass and bid him keep a sharp look-out.

He was still on the poop when the eastern stars began to pale: the morning watch had been called long since and men were moving about the dim deck, sprinkling sand. Jack's certainties had vanished an hour ago: his neat isosceles triangle had fled down the wind, routed by a thousand fresh unknown quantities. He stood still now, leaning on the rail and searching the horizon from the west to south-west. The blazing rim of the sun thrust up; light shot into the eastern sky; and the lookout hailed "Sail ho."

"Where away?" cried Jack.

"On the starboard beam, sir. Wasp. A-lying to."

And there indeed she was, hull-down, well to the east, her triangular sails just nicking the rising sun. Jack called down to the quarterdeck, "Make sail to close her," and resumed his pacing. The steady grind of holystones, the slap of swabs: full day-t1me life returned to the Raisonable as she set her topgallants and ran fast along the line that should cut the schooner's path. When his powerful glass had shown him Stephen walking about far over there, Jack

went below, said, "Breakfast in the after-cabin, Killick," and stretched himself out on his cot for a while. Presently he heard the officer of the watch call for a bosun's chair, agitated cries of "Handsomely, handsomely, there. Boom him off the backstay," and a little later Stephen's familiar step.

"Good morning, Stephen," he said. "You look as pleased as Punch--the trip was to your liking, I hope and trust?"

"The most delightful trip, I thank you, Jack; and a very good morning to you too. Most delightful . . . look!" He held out his two hands, opened them cautiously and disclosed an enormous egg.

"Well, it is a prodigious fine egg, to be sure," said Jack: then, raising his voice, "Killick, light along the breakfast, will you? Bear a hand, there."

"Other things have I brought with me," said Stephen, drawing a green-baize parcel from his pocket and a large cloth bag. "But nothing in comparison with the truly regal gift of that most deserving young man Fortescue. For what you see there, Jack, is nothing less than the concrete evidence of the albatross's gigantic love. Whereas this'- pointing to the gently heaving parcel--"is no more than a poll-parrot of the common green, or West African, species, too loquacious for its own good." He undid the baize, snipped the band confining the parrot's wings, and set the bird upon its feet. The parrot instantly cried. "A bas Buonaparte. Salaud, salaud, salaud," in a metallic, indignant voice, climbed on to the back of his chair, and began to preen its ruffled feathers. "The cloth bag, on the other hand, contains some of the finest coffee I have ever tasted; it grows to great advantage upon the island."

Breakfast appeared, and when they were alone again Jack said, "So you did not spend all your time ashore bird's nesting, I collect. Would it be proper to tell me anything about the rest of your journey?"

"Oh, that," said Stephen, setting his egg sideways upon a butter-dish to see it at a better angle. "Yes, yes: it was a straightforward piece of routine, perfectly simple, as I told you. Fruitful, however. I shall not tell you about my interlocutor--far better to know nothing in these cases--apart from saying that I take him to be a wholly reliable source, exceptionable only in his prolonged retention of this indiscreet fowl, a fault of which he was himself most sensible. Nor shall I trouble you with the political aspect: but I have a clear notion of the military side. I believe it to be a true statement of the position, and am not without hope that it will give you pleasure. In the first place, our accession of strength is as yet unknown: in the second, the two most recently captured Indiamen, the Europe and the Streatham, are in St Paul's road, on the other side of the island, together with their captor, the frigate Caroline, whose inward parts are alleged to require some attention that will keep her there for perhaps a fortnight. In fact her captain, a most amiable young man called Feretier, is attached to the wife of the Governor, General Desbrusleys, a passionate gentleman who is at odds with Captain Saint-Michiel, the commandant of St Paul's, and with most of the other officers on La Reunion. At present he is at Saint- Denis: his forces amount to something over three thousand men, including the militia; but they are stationed at various points, twenty and even thirty miles apart over difficult mountain country; and although St Paul's is strongly defended by batteries and fortifications mounting, let us see, nine and eight is seventeen--I write seven and I retain one; five and five is ten, and with the one that I retained, eleven--mounting a hundred and seventeen guns, you may consider it practicable, in spite of the difficulty of landing on these shores, to which you have so frequently adverted. This rude sketch shows the approximate location of the batteries. This the disposition of the troops. You will forgive me for labouring the obvious when I say, that if you do decide to act, then celerity is everything. "Lose not a minute", as you would put it."