'So if we should not meet this time, we have another chance?'
'I will not deceive you, Stephen: we do have another chance. In fact we have three other chances - a week each side of the next two full moons, and then of course in New South Wales.'
'What joy. I long to see the Surprise and all our friends again- I long to tell Martin of my dear ape, my tarsier, that rarest of primates, my enormous beetle, whole unknown genera of orchids. What is amiss, brother? Have you a flogging to deal with?'
'No. Just a disagreeable little matter to clear up.
'Killick and Ahmed came in, the one bearing a roly-poly pudding and the other a sauce-boat of custard. 'Killick,' said Jack, 'just jump round to the other side, will you: my compliments, and will His Excellency be at leisure for a few minutes in half an hour.'
Fox had never been liked in the Diane, but until Batavia he had given little active offence, while his secretary, Edwards, was positively esteemed, in a quiet way, by both officers and foremast hands. But since the envoy's behaviour at Prabang, his ignoring of the people belonging to the ship that had taken him there, his total indifference to their pleasure at the signing of the treaty, his treatment of the Marine guard - 'airs and graces and all turn out to present arms every time the bugger puts his nose out of doors and not so much as a half bottle to drink the King's health even at the end when him and his friends was as pissed as Davy's sow' - and of the seamen who rowed him to and fro, this absence of liking had grown into strong reprobation. His suite, of course, and their servants, had been unpopular from the beginning; but they were only passengers, and of passengers, landsmen at that, nothing could be expected. The present dislike of Fox was on another plane altogether; it was personal, not directed against a class, and it was so marked that a man far more insensitive than Fox must be conscious of it.
'You may say what you please,' said Jack, 'but I have eaten roly-poly within the Arctic Circle, damned nearly within the Antarctic, and now under the equator, and I am of opinion that it has not its equal.'
'Except, perhaps, for spotted dog.'
'Ah, you have a point there, Stephen.'
They drank their coffee and presently Jack said, 'I hope to be back in five minutes.'
He was not back in five minutes, and Stephen sat there by the pot - how the coffee retained its heat in this climate! - reflecting. He knew that last night some one of the mission had mounted to the dark quarterdeck, had approached Warren, the officer of the watch, just as the ship was wearing on to the larboard tack, had been intercepted by Reade, had cuffed the boy aside and had told Warren that he should make more sail, that the Captain would certainly wish it for the King's service, that this miserable pace was dawdling away precious time. But he hoped that Jack would not take the matter up before Fox had to some extent recovered from his present state of over-excitement: a foolish hope, perhaps, since a thing of this kind had to be taken up at once to prevent any recurrence (the offence in naval eyes was very grave) and since there were no signs of Fox's restless enthusiasm declining at all.
As he listened to the indistinct but certainly angry voices on the other side of the thin bulkhead he reflected upon a whole variety of things, his mind relapsing into a contemplative after-dinner state in which it swam between dreaming and waking; and at one point he found himself recalling an eating house by the Four Courts - an extraordinarily clear detailed visual image of the place. He was sitting at the far end and he saw a man open the door, look at the long, crowded room (it was term-time), and, after a moment's hesitation, walk in with exaggerated nonchalance, his hands in his pockets and his hat on his head, taking one of the few vacant places not far from Stephen. There was nothing in any way remarkable about him except that he was ill at ease; he felt conspicuous, regretted it, and made himself more conspicuous still by sprawling in his chair with his legs stretched out. But soon it became apparent that he was an ill-conditioned fellow as well. On being shown the bill of fare he questioned the waiter about every other item: 'Was the mutton well hung? Had the parsnips no wood in their middle? Was it bullock's beef or cow's?' and eventually he called for colcannon, a cut off the sirloin and half a pint of sherry. By this time he was aware that he was an object of dislike and he ate his meal with deliberate coarseness, hunched there with his elbows on the table, fairly exuding hostility and defiance.
'If this is my inner man providing me with an analogy,' he said, his mind moving into the present, 'I cannot congratulate him at all. He has left out the essential factor of triumph and intense excitement. The only valid aspect is the man's suspecting that he is unpopular and then going to great pains to make certain he is loathed.'
Stephen had never liked or wholly trusted Fox, but until the actual signature of the treaty they had got along smoothly enough. During the negotiations, in which Stephen had enabled the envoy to outflank Duplessis again and again and in which, as Fox knew very well, he had acquired the support of a majority in the council, without which the execution of Abdul would have had no diplomatic effect, they had worked well together; and he had been touchingly grateful for Stephen's help in the matter of Ledward and Wray. But a kind of lasting drunkenness or exaltation had come upon him at the ceremony of signature, the consummation of their voyage; and since that moment he had treated Stephen very shabbily indeed.
It was not only his inattention to his guest at that discreditable meal: it was a quantity of minor slights and an insistence upon his sole unaided personal success. And although even in the most unreserved flow of indiscretion during that interminable dinner Fox had not betrayed Stephen's real function, it was no very ungenerous reflection to suppose that this was because he meant to arrogate all the merit to himself. What would Raffles make of that? What would Raffles make of the present Fox? What would Blaine have to say to him?
It was altogether a very strange state of affairs. Here was a man of real abilities, one who had despised the Old Buggers - had apologized for them - but who was now revelling in their company and their by no means delicate flattery. It was known that the governorship of Bencoolen would soon be vacant, and they all asserted that Fox must be the obvious choice. This pleased him, but it was a knighthood that Fox really longed for; he was convinced, or very nearly convinced, that his treaty would earn him one, and nothing could exceed his desire to get back to England for it as soon as conceivably possible. He even contemplated the extremely arduous overland journey.
'There is some flaw there, some radical disturbance,' said Stephen. 'Was it always present? Should I have detected it? What is the prognosis?' He shook his head. 'I wish I could consult Dr Willis,' he said aloud.
'Who is Dr Willis?' asked Jack, opening the door.
'He was a man of great experience in disorders of the mind: he looked after the King in his first illness. He was kind to me I was young, and if he were alive now I should importune him with my questions. May I ask any of you, or would that be untimely, indiscreet, improper?' He could see from Jack's face that the visit had not been pleasant, but he did not think that Fox, even with all his present glory and his elevated state of mind, was of such moral weight as to cause Jack Aubrey much uneasiness, and he was not surprised at the reply, 'Oh, it was a disagreeable little interview; I had thought it might be. But at least I believe the matter is dealt with - there will be no repetition.'
