The shadow of the eagle

CHAPTER 13 A Long Wait

May 1814

Angra do Heroismo,' observed Birkbeck, staring through his glass at the principal port on the island of Terceira. Once again Andromeda was hove-to and awaiting one of her boats, the port quarter-boat commonly called the red cutter, which had been sent in under the command of Lieutenant Frey to convey Mr Gilbert ashore. It was anticipated that it would be absent for some time and in the interim Captain Drinkwater was in his cabin, dining early with Mr Marlowe and discussing the fate of Mr Midshipman Paine, who slouched disconsolately about the quarterdeck, awaiting the captain's verdict.

Although relieved as officer of the watch by Lieutenant Ashton, Birkbeck remained on deck, watching the red cutter as it swooped over the wave crests and vanished in each succeeding trough. Its worn lugsails were only a shade lighter than the grey of the sea, which had forsaken its kindly blue colour after the wind had swung back into the south-west again. Although only a moderate breeze, this had first veiled the sun, then at noon brought in a layer of thickening overcast which presaged rain and turned the sea a sullen hue.

Finally, Birkbeck could see the cutter no more as it passed into Angra. He shut his glass with a decisive snap and made his way below.

In the cabin, Drinkwater toyed with his wine glass as Marlowe concluded his report.

'So, sir, the nub of the matter is that Paine disobeyed Mr Ashton's explicit order and while Ashton may have acted in an intemperate manner, falsely accusing Sergeant McCann of being the culprit, it is Paine who must be punished.'

Drinkwater grunted. 'Yes, I suppose so. What have you in mind?'

Marlowe considered the matter for a moment and said, 'A dozen strokes, sir.'

'A pity. I thought the boy had promise. This will be a humiliation for him.'

'I had thought of that, sir. It doesn't have to be done over a gun. I can turn the midshipmen out of the cockpit...'

'Or the officers out of the wardroom. But the purpose of the punishment is as much to deter others as to strike at the guilty'

'The others will all know, sir.'

'Yes, that is true. Very well then,' Drinkwater concluded with a sigh, 'you must do as you see fit.'

'There remains the problem of Ashton. Hyde thinks he should apologize to McCann for calling him a Yankee bugger.'

'I must say I rather agree. Notwithstanding the fact that Ashton set this whole thing off by demanding a flogging for McCann.'

'Well, in the light of our findings that would be outrageous.'

'I agree entirely. Ashton's claim is indefensible and I won't have officers abusing the privilege rank gives them, no matter how high and mighty they consider themselves.'

Marlowe held his peace and waited while Drinkwater came to his own verdict. 'Very well; if Ashton will not withdraw his remark to McCann, I shall make my disapproval known by other means.' Drinkwater paused, then went on, 'You may tell Mr Ashton that for his intransigent insistence on misusing his rank, he may enjoy the privilege of standing watch-and-watch until further notice.' Drinkwater looked at Marlowe, 'Well, d'you have something to say?'

'No, sir.'

'Good. Well go and put Paine out of his misery and then inform Ashton of my decision.'

'Aye, aye, sir.'

Lieutenant Hyde had found Sergeant McCann in the gunner's store, making up cartridges as a means of seeking privacy. Hyde thrust his head through the woollen safety curtain and McCann looked up apprehensively.

'You are not to be flogged,' Hyde said with a grin, and the gentle sag of McCann's shoulders told of his relief. 'It would have been unpardonable to have done so,' Hyde expatiated.

'I have very little faith in the equity of British justice, sir,' said McCann, 'particularly in a man-o'-war.'

'Oh ye of little faith,' said Hyde, 'as a matter of fact, you should have.'

'Why so, sir? Is Lieutenant Ashton prepared to retract his insult?'

Hyde pulled a face. 'Regrettably, no. I would not have thought him a man of mean spirit on first acquaintance,' Hyde went on conversationally, 'just as I would not have thought of the first lieutenant as a man with any backbone, but,' Hyde shrugged, 'ship-board life reveals much.'

'Usually more than one bargained for,' observed McCann. 'But in what way should I be grateful?'

The edge of bitterness in McCann's voice did not escape Hyde, who smiled and said, 'Marlowe has just told me old Drinkwater has put Ashton on watch-and-watch.'

'Ah ...' An incipient smile twitched the corners of McCann's mouth. 'What about the disobedience to Ashton's order, sir?'

'Ah, that. You are exculpated. Poor Mr Paine is likely to live up to his name.'

'It's a pity Ashton didn't look to his own when handing out the insults, sir,' McCann said, ignoring the joke.

'Now hold your tongue, Sergeant,' Hyde advised. 'Your native forthrightness may be a virtue in America, but it don't serve too well in a man-o'-war.'

'It never serves well in England,' McCann said to himself after Lieutenant Hyde had gone.

In the wardroom, Lieutenant Marlowe regarded the errant midshipman. Mr Paine had been brought before the first lieutenant by the boatswain and Mr Kennedy, the surgeon. Birkbeck had returned to the hold to harry the carpenter and his mates, while Hyde was occupied inspecting his marines on the gun-deck.

'Mr Paine, you are to be given a dozen strokes of the cane for wilful neglect of an order given to you by Mr Ashton when you were lately left in charge of the ship's launch in the harbour of Santa Cruz. Do you understand?'

'Yes, sir.' Paine's voice was a dry croak.

'And have you anything to say?'

'Only that I am sorry for it, sir.'

'Very well. Let us proceed. The boatswain will carry the punishment out and the surgeon will ensure you are not abused. Please remove your coat.'

Paine did as he was bid and, looking round for somewhere to lay it, saw Kennedy's outstretched hand.

'Thank you, sir,' he whispered, giving Kennedy his garment.

Then Marlowe resumed. 'I shall not ask you to remove your breeches, but you shall bend over this chair.' Marlowe indicated a chair at the forward end of the wardroom table.

Paine swallowed hard, stepped forward and bent over the chair, his hands holding the back, the knuckles already white with fear.

'Very well.' Marlowe nodded at the boatswain, who moved forward, revealing the long, flexible twisted rattan cane of his office. The polished silver head nestled familiarly inside his powerful right wrist, the end tentatively touched Paine's buttocks as the midshipman screwed up his eyes.

'Do you wish for something to bite on?' Kennedy enquired. Eyes closed and teeth gritted, Paine shook his head emphatically, eager only to get his ordeal over.

'Carry on, Bosun,' Marlowe commanded, and the petty officer drew back the cane until it struck the deck- head above. Had the punishment been administered in the open air over a quarterdeck carronade as was customary, the swipe of the rattan would have had more momentum. Watching, both Marlowe and Kennedy