Patrick O'Brian - The Mauritius Command

After a little general conversation from which it appeared that Jack had enjoyed his dinner, had come home singing, and was now grinding the coffee himself, she said, "Oh, Stephen, how I wish you could help him to a ship. He is so unhappy here. He spends hours up on the hill, looking at the sea through his telescope, and it breaks my heart. Even if it were only for a short cruise -the winter is coming on, and the damp is so bad for his wound--any sort of ship at all, even if it were only a transport, like dear Mr. Pullings."

"How I wish I could, my dear; but what is the voice of a ship's surgeon in the councils of the great said Stephen, with a veiled though piercing glance to see whether any of her husband's knowledge of his double character had been sacrificed to marital confidence. Her next words and her totally unconscious air reassured him: she said, "We saw in the paper that you were called in when the Duke of Clarence was ill, and I thought that perhaps a word from you . . . ,

He said, "Honey, the duke knows Jack very well, by reputation--we spoke of his action with the Cacafuego--but he also knows that recommending Jack for a command would be the worst service he could do him. His Highness is in bad odour with the Admiralty."

"But surely they could not refuse the King's own son?"

"They are terrible men at the Admiralty, my dear."

Before she could reply the church clock of Chilton Admiral told the hour, and on the third stroke Jack's hall of "Coffee's up" followed by his manly form and some remarks about the wind having backed two points in the night- heavy rain for sure--broke up their conference.

Breakfast was spread in the parlour, and they walked into a fine smell of coffee, toast and wood-smoke: the ham stood on the table, flanked by Jack's own radishes, each the size of a moderate pippin, and a solitary egg. "There is the great advantage of living in the country," he said. "You get your vegetables really fresh. And that is our own egg, Stephen! Do help yourself. Sophie's crab-apple jelly is by your side. Damn that chimney; it will not draw when the air is anything south of west. Stephen, let me pass you an egg.

Mrs Williams brought Cecilia in, so starched that she held her arms from her sides, like an imperfectly-articulated doll. She came and stood by Stephen's chair, and while the others were busily wondering why there was no news from the rectory, where the birth of a child had been hourly expected these many days past, she told him loud and clear that they never had coffee except on birthdays and when there had been a victory, and that her uncle Aubrey usually drank small beer, whereas her " aunt and grandmama drank milk: if he liked, she would butter his toast for him. She had buttered a good deal of his coat too before Mrs Williams, with a delighted shriek, plucked her away, remarking that there never was such a forward child for her years; Cecilia, her mother, could never have buttered a piece of toast so prettily at that age.

Jack's attention was elsewhere; his ear was cocked; his cup was poised; several times he looked at his watch. "The post!" exclaimed Mrs Williams at the thundering double knock on the door, and Jack made a visible effort to sit still in his chair until the servant appeared, saying" A letter and a book, sir, if you please, and a shilling to pay."

Jack felt in his pocket, frowned, and called across the table, "Have you a shilling in change, Stephen? Here's nothing small."

Stephen too plunged his hand into his breeches and came up with a mixed bag of currency, English, French and Spanish. "The gentleman has three gold pieces," said Cecilia, "and a large quantity of silver." But Stephen was deaf: he picked out twelve pence and handed them over, saying" Never mind me, I beg."

"Well, if you will all forgive me . "said Jack, breaking the seal. Mrs Williams craned her neck to make out all she could from her indifferent point of vantage, but before she could move to a better, her curiosity was satisfied. "Oh," said Jack, throwing the letter down, "it is only that fellow Bromley. I always knew he was a rake; now I know he is a scrub into the bargain. However, here is the Naval Chronicle. That is always worth reading. My dear, Stephen's cup is empty." He turned first to the appointments and promotions. "Goate is made post at last; I am heartily glad of it." Considerations upon the merits and demerits of Captain Goate and other acquaintances, also made post. Then, after a calculating pause, Jack said, "You know, Stephen, our losses last year were not as heavy as I made out last night. Listen: Jupiter, 50, wrecked in Vigo Bay; Leda, 38, wrecked off Milford Haven; Crescent, 36, wrecked off Jutland; Flora, 32, wrecked off Holland; Meleager, 36, wrecked on Barebush Cay; Astraea, 32, wrecked off Anagado. Only five frigates, you see. And as for the post-ships, only Banterer, 22, wrecked in the St Lawrence; Laurel, 22, taken by the Cannoniere, 50--you remember the Cannoniere, Stephen? I pointed her out to you once, when we were looking into Brest. An ancient old ship, built somewhere about 1710, but an amazing fine sailer; she can still give most of our heavy frigates top gallants on a bowline. Stephen, what's amiss?"

Stephen was gazing through the acrid smoke at Cecilia, who, bored with the conversation, had opened the clock's door with her greasy hands to get at the pendulum, a heavy jar of quicksilver.

"Oh, let the poor little treasure be," said Mrs Williams, looking at her granddaughter with the fondest admiration.

"Madam," said Stephen, his heart in pain for the exquisite mechanism, "she will do herself a mischief. That quicksilver is most delicately poised; furthermore it is poison."

"Cecilia," said Jack, "cut along now. Run away and play."

Contention, tears, Mrs Williams's nimble protective tongue, and Sophie led her niece from the room. Mrs Williams was not at all pleased, but in the silence the sound of the passing-bell came clear from the church; it instantly diverted her mind, and she cried, "That must be for poor Mrs Thwaites. She was due last week, and they sent for the man-midwife last night. There, Captain Aubrey." These last words were delivered with an inimical jerk of her head, a retaliation, as it were, for his list of male wreckage and death, an assertion of women's sacrifice.

Sophie returned with the news that a horseman was approaching the cottage. "It is news of poor Mrs Thwaites, no doubt," said Mrs Williams, looking hard at Jack again. But she was mistaken. It was a boy from the Crown, with a letter for Jack: he was to wait for an answer.

" "Lady Clonfert presents her compliments to Captain and Mrs Aubrey, and would be most grateful for a passage to the Cape. She promises to take up no room and to give no trouble whatsoever; and flatters herself that Mrs Aubrey will, as a fellow-sailor's wife, understand and support this sadly informal and hurried application. She also proposes, if perfectly convenient to Mrs Aubrey, to do herself the honour of waiting upon her in the forenoon," " read Captain Aubrey aloud, with a very high degree of astonishment, adding, "Certainly she may have a lift to the Cape, whenever I happen to be going there, ha, ha."

"Jack," said Stephen, "a word with you, if you please."

They walked out into the garden, pursued by Mrs Williams's angry voice--"A most improper application--no compliments to me--and disgracefully ill wrote; she has spelt promises with one m I have no patience with these attempts at thrusting oneself into a strange house."

At the end of the wan row of carrots Stephen said, "I must beg your pardon for having evaded your question last night. I have in fact been up to something, as you put it. But first I must speak very briefly of the position in the Indian Ocean. Some months ago four new French frigates slipped out of the Channel ports, ostensibly for Martinique--that was the general rumour on shore, and that was the destination stated in the orders delivered to their respective captains: but no doubt these captains also carried sealed orders, to be opened somewhere south of Finisterre. At all events the frigates never reached the Antilles. Nothing was heard of them until they reached Mauritius, where they upset the balance of power in those waters entirely. The news of their presence reached England a very short while ago. They have already taken two Indiamen, and clearly they threaten to take many more. Government is extremely concerned."