The captain turned to go aft, but the first lieutenant took Alan by the ann and shook him like a first-tenn student. 'Salute and show the captain respect, goddamn you.’
Alan doffed his hat and threw in another one of those meaningless 'aye aye, sirs,' ready to weep. After they had gone, and the other midshipmen who had witnessed his ignorance had finished laughing and had gone below, Alan turned and staggered to the rail to look out at the shore, which was rising and falling in a regular pace. Alongside the petulant anger of a spoiled young man who had been humiliated before his new peers like the merest toddler, he felt such a rush of self-pity that he could not control his face screwing up in a flushed grimace, or hold back for long the acid-hot tears that threatened to explode his eyes. How could he stand this? he wondered. How could he survive all the hateful abuse, the wicked laughter at his ignorance about a career he would never have chosen in a million years? How tempting that shore looked, where people safely ate and drank and slept snug at night with never a care for this sort of misery. He contemplated finding a way to run away from all this, no matter what the consequences. He thought of killing himself, his death flinging shame on his family forever. Besides, suicide was damned fashionable these dayseverybody did it.
But then, who would care if he died? A few of his friends, and a girl or two might sigh over his coffin, but most of London would most likely feel a sense of relief. That was no way to go.
He shoved his hands in his breeches pockets to warm them, and leaned on the solid oak bulwark. growing angry and snuffling away his tears. There was no escape-this was his life now, and he would have to make the best of it he could, until he found a way to get out… and get even. ’I'll make you pay for this, you filthy old bastard,' he told the harbor waters. 'I'll find a way to break you, and Pilchard. and Belinda, and Gerald. and Morton, and even that damned vicar. I'll make all you shits pay. You want me to die, let the Navy kill me for you, but I won't do it. I'll be back.’
’Lewrie,' Lieutenant Kenyon said behind him, making him leap away from the railing and spin to face him. 'Aye aye, sir,' Alan sniffled, stained with tears but his face hot with anger. 'Young gentlemen do not ever lean on the railings. Nor do they ever put their hands in their pockets.’
’Aye aye, sir.’
’You had better go aft to the captain's cabins and be ready for your interview,' Kenyon said 'What can I do to avoid making even more of an ass of myself, sir?' Alan asked him. 'Though I can't imagine doing worse than now. ’
‘Follow me,' Kenyon said. As they walked aft, he told him to be sure to salute, to remove his hat once in the cabin, to speak direct and not prose on. and to remember to salute before he left.
Alan mopped his face with a handkerchief after they had passed the wheel and entered the passage under the poop deck that led to the captain's quarters. Kenyon pointed out the first lieutenant's cabin on one side, and the sailing master's on the other. They stood by the ramrod straight Marine sentry by the captain's door until the first lieutenant emerged. ’Who be ye, sir?' the Marine asked. ’Midshipman Lewrie, to report to the captain,' Kenyon said. 'Midshipman Lewrie… SAH,' the sentry said at the top of his voice, crashing the butt of his musket on the deck. 'Enter.’
Alan stepped through the door into a large set of cabins that spanned the entire width of the ship. There was a dining room with some rather fine chairs, table and sideboard to his right, and a study to his left filled with charts and books and a large desk. Far aft, there was a day cabin and another large desk before the stem windows. Lewrie strode up to the desk. and his bulky captain seated behind it. He tried to keep his balance as the ship groaned and rolled and pitched with a life of its own. He came to a halt three paces from the desk. hat under his arm, and gulped down his alarm at the sight of the town swinging like a pendulum beyond the stern windows. ’Midshipman Lewrie reporting, sir.’
’Lewrie, my name is Bales.' The captain frowned. as though disappointed with his own name. 'A Captain Bevan offered me your services as a midshipman.
Alan didn't think a reply was in order, but he did nod. 'To be expected in wartime,' Bales continued. 'So, I looked on Captain Bevan's offer quite favorably, to get such a wellrecommended young man.’
And I'll bet someone slipped you some chink, as well, Lewrie thought. What's place for, if you can't make money out of it. ’Then Captain Bevan hands me this letter from your family solicitor, a Mister Pilchard of London.' Bates gloomed. God rot the jackanapes. What sort of lying packet did he send? Oh God, did he mention Belinda? 'He states that you have been sent to sea to make a man of you,' Bales said sourly, 'that you have been a wastrel, a scamp and a rogue. So you will understand if I feel that I have been handed a pig in a poke?’
‘Yes… aye aye, sir,' Alan all but whimpered. ’Well, I do not intend to allow you to be a bad bargain, for me or for this ship, or for the King, Lewrie,' Bales said. 'Beggars can't be choosers, especially in what's becoming an unpopular war. We have to take what we can get, by the press gang if necessary, so consider yourself press- ganged if you like, but you're mine now. This letter goes on to state that you were banished.’
’Aye, sir,' Alan said, hoping the reason was unknown. 'And that you had to leave… Society,' Bales said, making Society sound like an epithet. 'Was it a duel?’
‘A young lady, sir,' Alan said, pretending contrite apology with perhaps the hint of an ill-starred affair. Darnme, that sounded right good, he told himself; I said that devilish well! Pray God he eats it up like plum duff. ' You may have noticed that we already have the dregs of the hulks and the debtor's prisons. Perhaps next Assize will flesh us out, Lewrie. Now, we have you. You know nothing of the sea, do you?’
‘No, sir.’
’You'd much mther be rantipoling about and playing balum rancum with some whores, wouldn't you?' Bales posed. 'Well, frankly… yes, sir.’
’Believe you me, you shall know something of the sea before I'm done with you, even if it kills you. England needs her Navy, now more than ever. I wouldn't count on our Army to pull a drunk off its sister, much less save the nation. And the sea is a fine calling for a man. I shall
’May I be honest with you, sir?' Alan asked. ’You had better not ever be anything else, boy,' Bales replied, picking up a shiny pewter mug of something dark and aromatic. ’I am indeed banished, sir,' he began, hoping he could win the man over. He could charm when it was necessary. There were even some addled old fools back in London who considered him a manly, upright young gentleman! 'I realize thatJ know nothing, sir, and I shall endeavor to learn, with all my heart. If this is to be my life, then how can I succeed without knowledge?’
‘Hmm.' And Bales nodded, studying him over the rim of the mug. 'I tell you this, Lewrie. If you apply even a tenth of yourself, we can beat you into some sort of sailor. We can do that with anyone.’
’Aye, sir.' Saying it only once sounded a little more English to his ear; saying it twice was like… 'higgledy- piggledy.’
’Your Mister Pilchard goes on to state that you show some promise as a student… some Latin… Greek… a little French… mathematics… had good tutors. If you throw yourself wholeheartedly into your work and your studies, you may make someone much better than your background suggests. And your bottom won't get half as sore.' Bales grinned. ’I shall try, sir,' Alan responded heartily, all but piping his eyes and breaking into a chorus of 'Rule, Brittania. ’
‘Yes,' Bales said, setting his mug down. 'You are seventeen.’
’Aye, sir.’
’You are much too old for the gun room. And I doubt if we want our younger midshipmen corrupted by any habits you might have picked up in London,' Bales said, almost mellowing toward him. 'Pity we did not get you sooner. Most midshipmen come aboard at ten or twelve and spend six years before being examined for a commission. At least that is what Master Pepys laid down, though it is not much followed in these times. But since I doubt you have much influence with our Lords Commissioners of The Admiralty, we'll assume you have six years. We will put you in the cockpit with the older midshipmen, where you may pick up their knowledge the quicker with people closer to your own age. When you see Mister Swift, give him my compliments and that you shall shift your dunnage to the cockpit on the orlop.’
Damn, there's that word again, he thought. 'Aye, sir. ’
‘Bevan has given me your per annum allowance. ’
‘Aye, sir?' Alan perked up. ’A hundred guineas is quite a sum-too much, really. I shall hold it for you, and should you have any need for it, you shall request of it through my clerk, Mister Brail. I have deducted five pounds for schooling with the sailing master, and another five pounds for your initial mess charge. As a midshipman you do not
