conceal his snicker.
'Well, was it returned, and mostly re-planted, it wasn't rightly stealing, was it, Mister Langlie?' he hopefully asked. Under English Common Law, the theft of anything worth more than a guinea would earn the perpetrator-in this case, perpetrators!-a hanging. There were urchins in London who'd met 'Captain Swing' or been transported for life for the theft of a loaf of bread or silk pocket handkerchief!
The governor-general and his wife might be that wroth, he told himself; Sir Tobias-bloody- Treghues, for certain, if they 're not!
'I gathered Saint Helena 's governor has seen a deal worse, sir,' Langlie told him, 'though he may be a long time forgetting this one. I was informed he'd only press for monetary damages, though that may be subject to change. The shrubs suffered no permanent harm, though that magnolia tree may be ruined. 'Tis a shallow-rooted thing, and, there wasn't a single blossom or leaf left on it when it was returned. The spoils of war, victory laurels, I suppose the Mob thought, sir. There is also mention of a Chinese lap dog missing, a pug something or other, very dear to the governor's wife. All ships are to be searched for it.'
'Not aboard Proteus, thank God,' Lewrie sighed, for a search had already been made. 'Now, what about this low brawl?' he asked as both his cats, eager for attention from two such affable people, chose a lap or the table top; Chalky to Langlie's lap, where he rolled over onto his back and wriggled for 'pets' or 'play,' all four feet pawing air, and trilling shut-mouthed for amusement. Toulon sniffed about the edge of Lewrie's breakfast plate, first, then flopped on his side, just out of easy reach, with his thick tail thumping the table, and his own paws 'rabbited' against his chest, issuing louder, more insistent 'Mmrrs!' 'Now, that wasn't our lads' doing, sir!' Langlie objected in an insulted manner. 'Hands off Adamant objected to sailors off any ship drinking in 'their' private tavern. One of the homebound two-deckers she is, sir… the greatest offenders, as I earlier said. The tavern in question is the one nearest the piers, and too convenient to be the sole property of one ship, so… the last hours of liberty, our lads popped in for a last pint… or two… the Adamants took exception to not only our lads, but any Navy sailors they didn't recognise, and especially to our Black hands, and fell on our people.
'Well, sir… the rest of our tars weren't having any of that, neither were our Marines, sir!' Lt. Langlie further explained. 'Just before it got completely out of hand, Mister Neale, the Master-At-Arms, and his party turned up, mustered petty officers off every ship, and broke it up. The publican's damage claims are rather piddling…'
'Nineteen pounds, ten shillings, five pence,' Lewrie muttered, 'Grossly inflated or not, 'tis not exactly 'piddling,' as you see it, Mister Langlie! Not being in a position to negotiate, it'll be up to me to make quick restitution, before we sail on tomorrow's tide, does the wind suit. That'll be above and beyond the sum for damages asked for the damned tree and shrubbery, and a deep bite out of my purse and ready funds! In recompense for which, I'll expect the gunroom and the cockpit, and every Man Jack cited in your reports, to whip out 'chink'! Just imagine what your share o' that'll be, Mister Langlie, before you call it 'piddling.''
'Aye, sir. Sorry,' Langlie muttered, hang-dog and meek.
'For all those reasons, Mister Langlie, Captain Treghues is now utterly convinced of our entire squadron's irredeemable depravity, in general, and Proteus filled with Satan's Spawn, in the specific! We have, to quote that worthy, directly,' Lewrie sarcastically said, referring to the note, ' 'smutted the good name of the Royal Navy, cast a stain upon the repute of every ship involved, and by your libidinous and drunken conduct besmirched mine own escutcheon with Admiralty'… to wit, Mister Langlie, we've shat on his copy-book, and will now have to pay the piper.'
'How so, sir?' Langlie was forced to enquire, frowning more.
'The usual practice is to escort 'John Company' trades beyond Saint Helena or Cape Town with a pair of seventy-fours, perhaps with a seventy-four and a single frigate, depending on how strong the French squadrons out of Reunion and Mauritius, are reputed to be,' Lewrie said with what might uncharitably be deemed a groan. 'Now, though, Captain Treghues is of a mind that only a long, depriving sea voyage, a total ban on even shipboard liberty, and lashings of discipline will restore the ships of this squadron to the paths of the righteous. And, there was no pun intended.'
Of course, he left out the juicy part wherein Treghues had taken him personally to task for associating with a nigh-naked circus person and actress… a Lilith, a Jezebel, a corrupting Delilah! What was he, a Captain of Less than Three Years' Seniority even so, a Commission Sea Officer of their King, and supposedly a married man, and the father of three innocent babes, doing in company with such a jade, and cavorting so publicly before common seamen, to boot, to the detriment of sailors' morals, the dignity of officers, and respect for English gentlemen, and et cetera and et cetera?
'So, Captain Treghues may deem it seemly for us to sail further than we expected, sir?' Langlie asked, twigging to the meat of the affair at once. 'Damme,
sir! We knew we stood a good chance of going as far as the Cape of Good Hope, but…'
'Now, it appears we're down for Bombay, or all the way to Canton in China, aye,' Lewrie sourly mused, idly fluffing his fingers through Toulon 's belly fur. 'But, sir… such a long voyage, with no additional break in our passage, and without even shipboard liberty, much less shore liberty, is the very thing that dispirited the crews of the homebound warships,' Lt. Langlie protested. 'They'd not have run riot here, had they been given a chance to carouse at Cape Town.'
'I'll grant you the point, Mister Langlie,' Lewrie said with a sigh as he shifted in his chair. 'Now, assuming Captain Treghues allows us even a whiff of land at the Cape, and it's all wooding and watering, and no liberty at all, at least Mister Coote, the Purser, and officers will be let ashore. Do we, indeed, sail 'cross the Indian Ocean, we'd best hunt the settlements over for some handy phrase books in Chinese and Hindoo. That, or kidnap likely Lascar or Asian translators.'
'Ehm… don't you own some Hindoo, sir?' Langlie asked. 'And, I believe I heard that you had been to Canton, 'tween the wars?'
'My Hindoo is barely good enough to order drinks and supper,' Lewrie sourly admitted. 'And as far as Chinee goes, I doubt I knew a half-dozen people who had a handle on it. Was 'Ding-Dong-Dell' a real Chinese phrase, it'd mean twelve diff'rent things, depending on which syllable, or syllables, got sung higher than the rest. We may be in need of a translator, a social guide. And, damned if the Navy's going to re-pay us for his hire.'
'Well, we're still a few hands short, sir,' Langlie suggested, almost tongue-in-cheek. 'Perhaps we could hire them on as Landsmen, to perform two tasks. In that case, the Navy would pay us for them, much like our, ehmm…' The First Officer bit off the rest, blushing.
Like our Black sailors, hah? Lewrie thought, silently completing Langlie's slip of the tongue for him; And wouldn't that make this ship an 'all-nations, ' as varied as a dram shop? Kidnap a few, and the rest come easier.
'Well, we'll see, once we attain the Cape,' Lewrie said, 'which will depend on Captain Treghues's mood at that moment. Before we sail tomorrow, though, Mister Langlie… you'd best alert the Purser, Bosun, and your fellow officers, warrants, and midshipmen that we may be in for a lean spell. Any needs or comforts they presently lack they had best make good, here.'
'Aye aye, sir.'
'I will hold Captain's Mast, tomorrow's Forenoon, once we're at sea,' Lewrie further announced. 'My respects to Mister Pendarves, the Bosun,
and he's to make up a round dozen cat-o'-nine-tails and the red baize bags for 'em.'
'Aye, sir,' Langlie numbly agreed, though with one brow cocked in surprise at such an order, for Lewrie had never, in his association with him, been much of a flogging Tartar, nor Proteus been known as a 'whippin' ship.'
'Captain Treghues, our putative 'Commodore,' has ordered me to administer punishment for our malefactors,' Lewrie said. ' Condign punishment for all involved, he wrote.'
'Can he do that, sir?' Langlie uneasily asked. 'Just order …?'
'Not strictly, under the Articles of War, no, Mister Langlie,' Lewrie replied with a chuckle, and a wink. 'The
