The Wine-Dark Sea

by Patrick O'Brian

  Even the murk was lessening, too: and although the southeast was impenetrably black with the last squall racing from them there were distinct rifts in the cloud astern, with stars showing clear. He had a momentary glimpse of Rigel Kent just above the crossjack-yard; and with Rigel Kent at that height dawn was no great way off.

  He also caught sight of Killick by the binnacle, holding an unnecessary napkin. 'Mr Wilkins,' he said to the officer of the watch, 'I am going below. I am to be called if there is any change in the wind, or if any sail is sighted.'

  He ran down the companion-ladder and into the welcome scent of coffee, the pot sitting there in gimbals, under a lantern. He gathered his hair - like most of the ship's company he wore it long, but whereas the seamen's pigtails hung straight down behind, Jack's was clubbed, doubled back and held with a bow: yet all but the few close-cropped men had undone their plaits to let their salt-laden hair profit from the downpour; and very disagreeable they looked, upon the whole, with long dank strands plastered about their upper persons, bare in this warm rain - he gathered his hair, wrung it out, tied it loosely with a handkerchief, drank three cups of coffee with intense appreciation, ate an ancient biscuit, and called for towels. Putting them under his wet head he stretched out on the stern locker, asked for news of the doctor, heard Killick's 'Quiet as the grave, sir,' nodded, and went straight to sleep in spite of the strong coffee and the even stronger thunder of the wave-crests torn off by the wind and striking the deadlights that protected the flight of stern-windows six inches from his left ear.

  'Sir, sir,' called a voice in his right ear, a tremulous voice, the tall, shy, burly Norton sent to wake his commander.

  'What is it, Mr Norton?'

  'Mr Wilkins thinks he may hear gunfire, sir.'

  'Thank you. Tell him I shall be on deck directly.'

  Jack leapt up. He was draining the cold coffee-pot when Norton put his head back through the door and said, 'Which he sent his compliments and duty, too, sir."

  By the time the Surprise had pitched once, with a slight corkscrew roll, Jack was at the head of the ladder in the dim half-light. 'Good morning, Mr Wilkins,' he said. 'Where away?'

  'On the starboard bow, sir. It might be thunder, but I thought..."

  It might well have been thunder, from the lightning-shot blackness over there. 'Masthead. Oh masthead. What do you see?'

  'Nothing, sir,' called the lookout. 'Black as Hell down there.'

  Away to the larboard the sun had risen twenty minutes ago. The scud overhead was grey, and through gaps in it lighter clouds and even whitish sky could be seen. Ahead and on the starboard bow all was black indeed: astern, quite far astern, all was blacker still. The wind had hauled forward half a point, blowing with almost the same force; the sea was more regular by far - heavy still, but no cross-current.

  All those on deck were motionless: some with swabs poised, some with buckets and holystones, unconscious of their immediate surroundings, every man's face turned earnestly, with the utmost concentration, to the blue-black east-south-east.

  A criss-cross of lightning down over there: then a low rumble, accompanied by a sharp crack or two. Every man looked at his mate, as Wilkins looked at his Captain. 'Perhaps,' said Jack. 'The arms chests into the half-deck, at all events.'

  Minutes, indecisive minutes passed: the cleaning of the deck resumed: a work of superogation, if ever there was one. Wilkins sent two more hands to the wheel, for the squall astern was coming up fast in their wake. 'This may well be the last,' said Jack, seeing a patch of blue right overhead. He walked aft, leant over the heaving taffrail and watched the squall approach, as dark as well could be and lit from within by innumerable flashes, like all those that had passed over them that night. The blue was utterly banished, the day darkened. 'Come up the sheets,' he called.

  For the last quarter of a mile the squall was a distinct entity, sombre purple, sky-tall, curving over at the top and with white water all along its foot, now covering half the horizon and sweeping along at an inconceivable speed for such a bulk.

  Then it was upon them. Blinding rain, shattered water driving so thick among the great heavy drops that one could hardly breathe; and the ship, as though given some frightful spur, leapt forward in the dark confused turmoil of water.

  While the forefront of the squall enveloped them and for quite long after its extreme violence had passed on ahead, time had little meaning; but as the enormous rain dwindled to little more than a shower and the wind returned to its strong steady southeast course, the men at the wheel eased their powerful grip, breathing freely and nodding to one another and the sodden quartermaster, the sheets were hauled aft, the ship, jetting rainwater from her scuppers, sailed on, accompanied for some time by low cloud that thinned and thinned and then quite suddenly revealed high blue sunlit sky: a few minutes later the sun himself heaved out of the lead-coloured bank to larboard. This had indeed been the last of the series: the Surprise sailed on after it, directly in its track as it raced to the south-east, covering a vast breadth of sea with its darkness.

  On and on, and now with the sun they could clearly distinguish the squall's grim front from its grey, thinner tail, followed by a stretch of brilliant clarity: and at a given moment the foremast lookout's screaming hail 'Sail ho! Two sail of ships on the starboard bow. On deck, there, two sails of ships on the starboard bow' brought no news, for they were already hull up as the darkness passed over and beyond them, suddenly present and clear to every man aboard.

  Jack was on his way to the foretop before the repetition. He levelled his glass for the first details, though the first glance had shown the essence of the matter. The nearer ship was the four-masted Alastor, wearing the black flag; she was grappled tight to the Franklin; they were fighting hand to hand on deck and between decks and now of course there was no gunfire. Small arms, but no cannon.

  'All hands, all hands,' he called. 'Topgallants.' He gauged their effect; certainly she could bear them and more. From the quarterdeck now he called for studdingsails alow and aloft, and then for royals.

  'Heave the log, Mr Reade,' he said. He had brought theAlastor right ahead, broadside on, and in his glass he could see her trying to cast off, the Franklin resisting the attempt.

  'Ten and one fathom, sir, if you please,'said Reade at his side.

  Jack nodded. The grappled ships were some two miles off. If nothing carried away he should be alongside in ten minutes, for the Surprise would gather speed. Tom would hold on for ten minutes if he had to do it with his teeth.

  'Mr Grainger,' he said, 'beat to quarters.'

  It was the thunder of the drum, the piping and the cries down the hatchways, the deep growl and thump of guns being run out and the hurrying of feet that roused Martin. 'Is that you, Maturin?' he whispered, with a terrified sideways glance.

  'It is,' said Stephen, taking his wrist. 'Good day to you, now.'

  'Oh thank God, thank God, thank God,' said Martin, his voice broken with the horror of it. 'I thought I was dead and in Hell. This terrible room. Oh this terrible, terrible room.'

  The pulse was now extremely agitated. The patient was growing more so. 'Maturin, my wits are astray - I am barely out of a night-long nightmare - forgive me my trespasses to you.'

  'If you please, sir,' said Reade, coming in, 'the Captain enquires for Mr Martin and desires me to tell the Doctor that we are bearing down on a heavy pirate engaged with the Franklin: there will be some broken omelets presently.'

  'Thank you, Mr Reade: Mr Martin is far from well.' And calling after him, 'I shall repair to my station very soon.'

  'May I come?' cried Martin.

  'You may not,' said Stephen. 'You can barely stand, my poor colleague, sick as you are.'

  'Pray take me. I cannot bear to be left in this room: I hate and dread it. I could not bring myself to pass by its door, even. This is where I... this is where Mrs Oakes... the wages of sin is death... I am rotting here in this life, while in the next... Christe eleison.'

  'Kyrie elei
son,' said Stephen. 'But listen, Nathaniel, will you? You are not rotting as the seamen put it: not at all. These are salt-sores: they are no more, unless you have taken some improper physic. In this ship you could not have contracted any infection of that kind. There has been no source of infection, whether by kissing, toying, drinking in the same cup, or otherwise: none whatsoever. I state that as a physician.'

  The wind had hauled a little farther forward, and with her astonishing spread of drum-tight canvas the Surprise was now running at such a pace that the following seas lapped idly alongside. From high aloft Jack made out the confused situation with fair certainty: the ships were still grappled fast: the Alastors had boarded the Franklin's waist but Tom had run up stout close-quarters and some of his people were holding out behind them while others had invaded the Alastor's forecastle and were fighting the Frenchmen there. Some of the Alastors were still trying to cast off, and still the Franklins prevented them - Jack could see the bearded Sethians in the furious struggle that flung three Frenchmen bodily off the lashed bowsprits. Another group of pirates were turning one of the Franklin's forward carronades aft to blast a way through the close-quarters; but the mob of their own men and deadly musket-fire from their own forecastle hindered them, and the carronade ran wild on the rolling deck, out of control.

  Jack called down: 'Chasers' crew away. Run them out.' He landed on the deck with a thump, ran through the eager, attentive, well-armed groups to the bows, where his own brass Beelzebub was reaching far out of the port. 'Foretopsail,' he said, and they heaved the gun round. He and Bonden pointed it with grunts and half-words, the whole crew working as one man. Glaring along the sights Jack pulled the laniard, arched for the gun's recoil beneath him and through the bellowing crash he roared, 'T'other.'

  The smoke raced away before them, and barely was it clear before the other chaser fired. Both shots fulfilled their only function, piercing the foretopsail they were aimed at, dismaying the Alastors - few ships could fire so clean - and encouraging the Franklins, whose cheer could now be heard, though faint and thin.

  But these two shots, reverberating through the ship's hollow belly, sent poor Martin's weakened mind clear off its precarious balance and into a delirium. His distress became very great, reaching the screaming pitch. Stephen quickly fastened him into his cot with two bandages and ran towards the sick-berth. He met Padeen on his way to tell him that quarters had been beaten. 'I know it,' he replied. 'Go straight along and sit with Mr Martin. I shall come back.'

  He returned with the fittest of his patients, a recent hernia. 'See that all is well below, Padeen,' he said, and when Padeen had gone he measured out a powerful dose from his secret store of laudanum, the tincture of opium to which he and Padeen had once been so addicted. 'Now, John,' he said to the seaman, 'hold up his shoulders.' And in pause, 'Nathaniel, Nathaniel my dear, here is your draught. Down it in one swallow, I beg.'

  The pause drew out. 'Lay him back, lay him back gently,' said Stephen. 'He will be quiet now, with the blessing. But you will sit with him, John, and soothe his mind if he wakes.'

  'Shipmates,' cried Jack from the break of the quarterdeck, 'I am going to lay alongside the four-master as easy as can be. Some of our people are on her forecastle; some of theirs are trying to work aft in the Franklin. So as soon as we are fast, come along with me and we will clear the four-master's waist, then carry on to relieve Captain Pullings. But Mr Grainger's division will go straight along the Alastor's gun-deck to stop them turning awkward with their cannon. None of you can go wrong if you knock an enemy on the head.'

  The seamen - a savage looking crew with their long hair still wild about them - the seamen cheered, a strangely happy sound as the frigate glided in towards those embattled ships: roaring shouts, the clash of bitter fighting clear and clearer over the narrowing sea.

  He stepped to the wheel, his heavy sword dangling from his wrist by a strap and he took her shaving in, his heart beating high and his face gleaming, until her yards caught in the Alastor's shrouds and the ships ground together.

  'Follow me, follow me,' he cried, leaping across, and on either side of him there were Surprises, swarming over with cutlasses, pistols, boarding-axes. Bonden was at his right hand, Awkward Davies on his left, already foaming at the mouth. The Alastors came at them with furious spirit and in the very first clash, halfway across the deck, one shot Jack's hat from his head, the bullet scoring his skull, and another, lunging with a long pike, brought him down.

  'The Captain's down,' shrieked Davies. He cut the pikeman's legs from under him and Bonden split his head. Davies went on hacking the body as the Franklins came howling down and took the Alastors in the flank.

  There was an extremely dense and savage melee with barely room to strike - cruel blows for all that and pistols touching the enemy's face. The battle surged forward and back, more joined in, forward and back, turning, trampling on bodies dead and living, all sense of direction lost, a slaughter momentarily interrupted by the crash of the Franklin's carronade, turned and fired at last, but misfired, misaimed so that it killed many of those it was meant to help. The remaining Alastors came flooding back into their own ship, instantly pursued by Pullings' men, who cut them down from behind while the Surprises shattered them from in front and either side, for they had all heard the cry 'The Captain's down - they've got the Captain' and the fighting reached an extraordinary degree of ferocity.

  Presently it was no more than broken men, escaping below, screaming as they were hunted down and killed: and an awful silence fell, only the ships creaking together on the dying sea, and the flapping of empty sails.

  A dozen black slaves were found shut in the Alastor's orlop, as well as a few wretched little rouged and scented boys; and they were put to throwing the dead over the side. Long before they reached his part of the deck Jack Aubrey heaved himself from beneath three bodies and one desperately wounded man. 'It was as bloody a little set-to as ever I have seen,' he said to Pullings, sitting by him on the coaming, trying to staunch the flow from his wound and dabbing at his bloody eye. 'How are you, Tom?' he asked again. 'And how is the ship?'

  Chapter Six

  'It would be only with the greatest reluctance that I should consent to leave you,' said Stephen, sitting there in the Franklin's cabin.

  'It is most obliging of you to say so, replied Jack with a hint of testiness, 'and I take it very kindly; but we have been through this many times and once again I am obliged to point out that you have no choice in the matter. You must go into Callao with the others as soon as everything is ready.'

  'I do not like your eye, and I do not like your leg,' said Stephen. 'As for the scalp-wound, though spectacular it is of no great consequence. I dare say it will hurt for some weeks and your hair will go white for an inch or two on either side; but I do not think you need fear any complications.'

  'It still makes me stupid and fretful at times,' said Jack, and then with the slightly false air of one who is deliberately changing the subject, 'Stephen, should Sam come aboard - of course it is very unlikely - why should he indeed, or even still be in Peru? But should he come aboard, pray give him my love, tell him that I hope to bring the Franklin in, and that we should be very happy if he would dine with us. And for the moment, I mean if he should come, which I doubt, please ask him what we can do with the blacks we took in Alastor. They are not seamen in any sense of the term and they are really no use to us at all. But they were slaves, and Peru is a slave country; so I do not like to put them ashore, where they may be seized and sold. I particularly dislike it since having been aboard an English ship they are now, as I understand it, free men. Quite how this squares with the slave-trade I cannot tell, but that is how I understand the law.'

  'Sure, you are right: there was that case in Naples, where some slaves came aboard a man-of-war and wrapped themselves in the ensign. They were never given up. And in any case Government abolished the trade in the year seven. The law may be disobeyed; slavers may still sail. But they do so illegally, si
nce Government certainly abolished the vile traffic.'

  'Did they indeed? I was not aware. Where were we in the year seven?' He pondered for a while on the year seven, tracing back voyage after voyage, and then he said, 'By the by, I am sending in the Frenchmen who do not choose to carry on with us and who are not seamanlike enough for us to keep - I promised to pay them off in Callao, you remember - and now I come to think of it there is one in this ship' - they were sitting in the cabin of the Franklin, to which Jack had removed - 'who was an apothecary's assistant in New Orleans. He wished to stay, and he might be of some use to you, short-handed as you are. Martin found him quite helpful, I believe.'

  'Then you must certainly keep him,' said Stephen.

  'No,' said Jack in a determined voice. 'Killick has looked after me, under your orders, ever since before the peace. This man's name is Fabien. I shall send him over.' Stephen knew that argument would be useless; he said nothing, and Jack went on, 'I shall be sending a whole parcel of them over, those who wish to go.'

  'You would never be sending Dutourd, at all?' cried Stephen.

  'I had thought of doing so, yes,' said Jack. 'He sent me a polite little note, asking leave to make his adieux, thanking us for our kindness and undertaking not to serve again.'

  'From my point of view it might be impolitic,' said Stephen.

  Jack looked at him, saw that the matter had to do with intelligence and nodded. 'Are there any others you would object to?' he asked. 'Adams will show you a list.'

  'Never a one, my dear,' said Stephen, and he looked at the opening door.

  'If you please, sir,' said Reade, 'Captain Pullings sends his compliments, and all is laid along.'

  'The Doctor will be with you directly,' said Captain Aubrey.

  'In five minutes,' said Dr Maturin. He lifted the bandage over Jack's eye: he looked at the pike-wound. 'You must swear by Sophie's head to suffer Killick to dress both these places with their respective lotions and pommades before breakfast, before dinner, and before retiring: I have given him precise instructions. Swear.'