Book 16 - The Wine-Dark Sea

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Book 16 - The Wine-Dark Sea Page 11

by Patrick O'Brian


  With Sarah and Emily standing in opposite corners of the cabin and holding the squid's arms just so, Stephen snipped, drew, and described, dissecting out various processes for preservation: there was alas no possibility of keeping the entire animal even if he had possessed a jar large enough, since it was Mr Vidal's property, he having detached it from the beef at the cost of some cruel wounds (a spiteful decapod) and having promised it to the gun-room cook for today's feast, this Friday being the day when, on the other side of the world, Shelmerston, forgetting all differences of creed, lit bonfires and danced round them singing a chant whose meaning was now lost but which as late as Leland's time was clearly in honour of the goddess Frig; and even today the words retained such power that as Stephen well knew no Shelmerstonian born and bred would willingly omit them.

  The little girls were usually as good and silent as could be on these occasions, but now the coming of the feast and the arrival of the prize-money overcame Sarah's discretion and she said, 'Jemmy Ducks says Monsieur Turd's nose is sadly out of joint. He kicked Jean Potin's arse. Jean Potin is his servant.'

  'Hush, my dear,' said Stephen. 'I am counting the suckers. And you are not to say Monsieur Turd: nor arse.'

  Emily prized Stephen's attention and approval more than her immortal soul: though an affectionate child, she would betray her best friend to obtain it and now she called out from her corner, 'She is always saying Monsieur Turd. Mr Grainger checked her for saying it only yesterday: he declared it was wicked to speak so of such a benevolent gentleman.'

  'Heave that tentacle taut,' said Stephen. 'Never mind your pinafores.' He knew the squid's destination and he was working fast, with great concentration. Yet well before the description was complete there was a gun-room cook's mate begging his pardon, but so horny an old bugger, if his honour would excuse the word, needed a good hour in the pot: his honour sighed, quickly removed one last ganglion and sat back. 'Thank you, my dears,' he said to the little girls. 'Give Nicholson a hand with the longer arms. And Sarah, before you go, pass me the frigate-bird, will you, now?'

  He was pretty well acquainted with frigate-birds, as any man who had sailed so far in tropical waters must be, and he had skinned quite a number, distinguishing three or perhaps four closely-allied species and making careful descriptions of their plumage; but he had never thoroughly dissected one. This he now settled himself to do, meaning first to examine the flight muscles, for in their lofty soaring the frigate-birds were perhaps even more remarkable than the albatrosses: and he had scarcely laid bare the breast before he had a premonition that he might be on the verge of the finest anatomical study of his career.

  The bird, naturally enough, possessed a wishbone: yet from the very first it had seemed extraordinarily, unnaturally, firm under his touch. As his scalpel worked delicately down towards the keel of the breastbone, a spatula easing the muscles aside, he was perfectly deaf to the ring of coins and the powerful voices on the other side of the bulkhead—Captain Aubrey, the two oldest forecastle hands (rather hard of hearing), and Mr Adams telling over the treasure of the Franklin, converting it into Spanish dollars and reckoning the shares—and to those on the quarterdeck: an extraordinary number of hands had found tasks that kept them within earshot of the open companion, and they kept up a murmured commentary upon the amounts, provenence and rates of exchange of the coins handled below, showing a wonderful grasp of the European and American system, switching from Dutch rixdollars to Hanover ducats with as much ease as from Barcelona pistoles to Portuguese joes, Venice sequins or Jamaica guineas. The murmur, the remarkably strong murmer, ceased when hands were piped to dinner, but the telling in the great cabin continued, while Stephen, without a thought for anything else, steadily exposed the upper thorax of the frigate-bird.

  He had not quite bared all the essentials by the time Killick and Padeen came in fairly skipping with impatience to say that the gun-room was assembling—the feast was almost under way. He submitted to their attentions and hurried below properly dressed, fairly clean, with his wig straight on his head and a look of shining delight still on his face.

  'Why, gentlemen,' he cried on entering the gun-room, 'I am afraid I was almost late.'

  'It is no matter,' said Grainger. 'We had another whet and feel the better for it. But now I will ask Mr Martin to say grace, and we will set to.'

  Martin had been moved to make room for two more Shelmerstonians from the prize and now he was on Stephen's right. He was looking ill and thin and when they sat down Stephen said to him in a low voice, 'I trust I see you tolerably well?'

  'Perfectly so, I thank you,' said Martin without a smile. 'It was only a passing malaise.'

  'I am glad to hear it; but you must certainly stay on deck this evening,' said Stephen; and after a pause, 'I have just made a discovery that I think will please you. In the frigate-bird the symphysis of the furcula coalesces with the carina and the upper end of each ramus with the caracoid, while in its turn each caracoid coalesces with the proximal end of the scapula!' His look of modest triumph faded as he saw that Martin's anatomy did not appear to reach so far, or at least not to grasp at the consequences, and he went on, 'The result, of course, is that the whole assembly is entirely rigid, apart from the slight flexion of the rami. I believe this to be unique among existing birds, and closely related to the creature's flight.'

  'It is of some interest, if your example was not a sport,' said Martin, 'and perhaps it justifies taking the bird's life away. But how often have we seen hecatombs that yield nothing of significance—hundreds and hundreds of stomachs opened, all with much the same result. Even Mr White of Selborne shot very great numbers. Sometimes I feel that the dissection may take place merely to warrant the killing.'

  Stephen had often known patients eager to be disagreeable: a common morbid irritability, especially in putrid fevers. But it was almost invariably kept for their friends and relations, rarely extending to their medical men. On the other hand, although Martin was undoubtedly sick, Stephen was not in fact his physician; nor was it likely that Martin would consult him. He made no reply, turning to Mr Grainger with praise of the squid soup; but he was wounded, deeply disappointed, far from pleased.

  Opposite him sat Dutourd, apparently in much the same unenviable state of mind. Both men however kept up a creditable appearance of urbanity for some time: they even exchanged remarks about the squid, though it was clear to most of the table that not only was Dutourd's nose out of joint but that he held the Doctor in some degree responsible. For Grainger, Vidal and the rest, privateers or man-of-war's men, taking or being taken was as much part of sea-going life as fair weather or foul and they accepted these things as they came; but they knew that this was the first time Dutourd had been stripped—relatively stripped—and they treated him with a particular deferential gentleness, rather as though he were recently bereaved. This had the effect of making him more loquacious than usual: towards pudding-time his voice rose from the tone of conversation to something nearer that of public address and Stephen realized with dismay that they were to hear a discourse on Rousseau and the proper education of children.

  The plum-duff vanished, the cloth was drawn, the decanters moved steadily round, Dutourd boomed on. Stephen had stopped listening several glasses back: his mind turned sometimes with glowing joy to his discovery, more often with intense irritation at Martin's obvious desire to wound. It was true that Martin was much more an observer of birds—an accurate, highly experienced observer—than a systematic ornithologist, basing his taxonomy upon anatomical principles, yet even so . . .

  Dr Maturin had curiously pale eyes, which he often covered with blue spectacles. He was not wearing them at present, and this pallor was much accentuated by the mahogany tan of his face on the one hand and on the other by the cold displeasure with which he reflected upon his assistant, now sitting by him in dogged silence.

  He was gazing straight before him in one of these reveries when Dutourd, pouring himself yet another glass of port, caught his eye a
nd taking the glare as a personal reflexion he said, 'But I am afraid, Doctor, that you do not share our opinion of Jean-Jacques?'

  'Rousseau?' said Stephen, returning to the immediate present and composing his features to a more sociable amenity or at last adopting a less grim and even sinister expression. 'Rousseau? faith, little do I know of him, apart from the Devin du Village, which I enjoyed; but his theories have been floating about me for ever, and once an admirer made me swear to read the Confessions. I did so: an oath is sacred. But all the time I was reminded of a cousin, a priest, who told me that the most tedious, squalid and disheartening part of his duty was listening to penitents who having made the act of contrition recounted imaginary, fictitious sins, unclean phantasms. And the most painful was the giving of an absolution that might be blasphemous.'

  'You surely did not doubt Rousseau's truthfulness?'

  'Out of common charity I was obliged to do so.'

  'I do not understand you, sir.'

  'You will recall that in this book he speaks of four or five children his mistress bore him, children that were at once dismissed to the foundling hospital. Now this does not agree very well with his praise of the domestic affections, still less with his theories of education in Emile. So unless I was to think of him as a hypocrite where bringing up the young was concerned, I was compelled to regard him as a begetter of false babies.' The ransomer merchants at the end of the table, earthy creatures who unlike their serious hosts had been growing more and more restless, burst into a great horse-laugh at the words false babies, and clawing one another on the back they called out, 'Hear him. Very good. Hear him.'

  'Those children can perfectly well be explained to a candid mind,' cried Dutourd over the hubbub, 'but where there is a fixed prejudice, an evident hatred of progress and enlightenment, a love of privilege and outworn custom, a denial of the essential goodness of man, a settled malevolence, I have nothing to say.'

  Stephen bowed, and turning to the troubled acting first lieutenant he said, 'Mr Grainger sir, you will forgive me if I leave you at this point. Yet before I go, before I sling my hook, allow me to propose a toast to Shelmerston. Bumpers, gentlemen, if you please; and no heel-taps. Here's to Shelmerston, and may we soon sail in over her bar with never a scrape.'

  'Shelmerston, Shelmerston, Shelmerston for ever,' they cried as he walked off, returning to the great cabin and feeling the ship's much stronger pitch and roll as he went. He found Jack well into his dinner and sat down beside him. 'Will I confess a grave sin?' he asked.

  'Do, by all means,' said Jack, looking at him kindly. 'But if you managed to commit a grave sin between the gun-room and here you have a wonderful capacity for evil.'

  Stephen took a piece of biscuit, tapping it mechanically, brushed away the weevil-frass, and said, 'I was in a wicked vile temper, so I was too, and I flew out at Dutourd and Rousseau.'

  'He was in an ugly frame of mind as well, very willing to have a fight. He could only just be civil when I made him give up the Franklin's money; yet God knows it was natural enough.'

  'So you took his money away? I did not know.'

  'Not his money—we left him his purse—his ship's money: booty from her prizes, cash carried for stores and supplies. It is always done, you know, Stephen. You must have seen it scores of times. The chest came aboard in the forenoon watch.'

  'Oh certainly, certainly. Only I was not on deck at the time, and I do not believe anybody mentioned the fact. Yet I did observe a general gaiety; and Sarah stated that Dutourd's nose was out of joint.'

  'Indeed he took it very ill. He had a great deal of money aboard. But what could he expect? We are not a philanthropic institution. Adams and I and two of the hands were telling it all the morning: there were some very curious pieces, particularly among the gold. I kept this little heap to show you.'

  'Little do I know of money,' said Stephen, 'but these are surely bezants; and is not this very like an archaic gold mohur? Pierced and worn as a charm, no doubt.'

  'I am sure of it,' said Jack. 'And what do you make of this broad piece? It is rubbed almost smooth, but if you hold it sideways to the light you can make out a ship with a forward-raking mast, very heavy shrouds, and an absurd high-perched poop or after-castle.'

  In time Jack finished his dinner, and when they were drinking their coffee Stephen said, 'I made a remarkable discovery this morning. I believe it will make a great stir in the Royal Society when I read my paper; and Cuvier will be amazed.' He described the extraordinarily unyielding nature of the frigate-bird's bosom, contrasting it with that of other fowl, no more rigid than an indifferent wicker basket, and spoke of its probable connexion with the creature's soaring flight. As it was usual with them when they spoke of the lie of the land, naval manoeuvres or the like he traced lines on the table with wine, and Jack, following with keen attention, said, 'I take your point, and I believe you are right. For this, do you see'—drawing a ship seen from above—'is the mainyard when we are close-hauled on the starboard tack. It is braced up sharp with the larboard brace—here is the larboard brace—the sheet hauled aft, the weather leeches hauled forward with bowlines twanging taut, and the tack hauled aboard, brought down to the chess-trees and well bowsed upon. When all this is done in a seaman-like manner there is precious little give—flat as a board—and a stiff, well-trimmed ship fairly flies along. Surely there is a parallel here?'

  'Certainly. If you will come next door I will show you the bones in question and their coalescence, and you will judge the degree of rigidity yourself, comparing it with that of your sheets and chess-trees. I was called away before the dissecting was quite complete—before everything was as white and distinct as a specimen or example mounted for an anatomy lesson—but you will never dislike a little blood and slime.'

  Stephen was not a heavy, impercipient man in most respects, yet he had known Jack Aubrey all these years without discovering that he disliked even a very little blood and slime extremely: that is to say, cold blood and slime. In battle he was accustomed to wading ankle-deep in both without the least repulsion, laying about him in a very dreadful manner. But he could scarcely be brought to wring a chicken's neck, still less watch a surgical operation.

  'You will take the exposed furcula between your finger and thumb,' Stephen went on, 'and all proportions guarded you will gauge its immobility.'

  Jack gave a thin smile: seven excuses came to his mind. But he was much attached to his friend; and the excuses were improbable at the best. He walked slowly forward into what had once been his dining-cabin and was now, to judge from the reek, a charnel-house.

  He did indeed take the exposed furcula as he was desired to do, and he listened to Stephen's explanations with his head gravely inclined: he looked not unlike a very large dog that was conscientiously carrying out an unpleasant duty: but how happy he was when the duty was done, when the explanations came to an end, and when he could walk out into the fresh air with a clear conscience!

  'Everything is laid along, sir,' said Vidal, meeting him at the head of the companion-ladder. 'The chest is up, the Frenchmen ordered below, and Mr Adams is by the capstan with the muster-book.'

  'Very good, Mr Vidal,' said Jack, breathing deep. He glanced at the sky, he glanced aft, where the Franklin lay on the frigate's quarter a cable's length away, throwing a fine bow-wave. 'Let us take in royals and topgallant studdingsails.'

  Vidal had hardly relayed the order before the topmen were racing aloft: the royals and topgallant studdingsails vanished, the ship's way sensibly decreased, and Jack said, 'All hands aft, if you please.'

  'Mr Bulkeley, pipe all hands aft,' said Vidal to the bosun, who replied, 'All hands aft it is, sir,' and instantly wound his call—sharp blasts followed by a long quavering shriek.

  This was the first official information to reach the foremast hands, but if anyone aboard was so simple as to expect them to be surprised at the news he was wholly mistaken: they had all contrived to be clean, shaved, sober and properly dressed; they all had their hats; a
nd now they all swarmed aft along the larboard gangway, overflowing on to the quarterdeck in the usual shapeless heap. There they stood grinning and sometimes nudging one another, and Jack called out, 'Now, shipmates, we are going to proceed to a provisional sharing-out. But this is all to be by silver, Spanish dollars or pieces of eight, shillings and bits, or by gold that everybody knows: guineas, louis d'or, ducats, joes and the like. The old-fashioned, outlandish pieces will be sold by weight and shared accordingly. Mr Wedell, hands out of beckets.' The unhappy boy blushed crimson, whipped his hands from his pockets and crept behind the taller Norton with what countenance he could summon. 'Paper notes and bills, and of course hull, fittings, goods and head-money, come in the final reckoning.'

  'If spared,' murmured Mr Vidal.

  'Just so,' said Jack. 'If spared. Mr Adams, carry on.'

  'Ezekiel Ayrton,' cried Mr Adams, his finger on the open muster-book, and Ayrton, foretopman, starboard watch, came aft, happy though somewhat conscious of being alone and in the public gaze. He walked across the quarterdeck, taking off his hat as he came, but instead of passing straight on beyond the Captain to the windward gangway and so forward as he would have done at an ordinary muster, he advanced to the capstan. There, upon the capstan-head, Adams paid down two guineas, one louis d'or, two ducats (one Venetian, the other Dutch) and enough pieces of eight and Jamaica bits to bring the sum to twenty-seven pounds six shillings and fourpence. Ayrton swept them into his hat with a chuckle, moved on two paces and touched his forehead to the Captain. 'Give you joy of them Ayrton,' said Jack, smiling at him. So it went throughout the alphabet, with more laughter and outbursts of wit than would have been countenanced in a more regular man-of-war, until a minute after John Yardley, yeoman of the sheets, had joined his jocose, wealthy companions on the forecastle, when all merriment was cut to instant silence by the hail from the masthead: 'On deck there: object fine on the starboard bow. Which I believe it is a barrel.'

 

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