Harding. Mr Harding, this is Captain Christy-Palliere, of His Most Christian Majesty’s frigate Caroline.’
‘Very happy, sir,’ said each, bowing; and Jack led his guest below.
‘First, Commodore,’ said Christy-Palliere, taking his seat at the breakfast table, ‘let me congratulate you on your broad pennant. I have never saluted one with half so much pleasure in all my life.’
‘How kind you are to say so: and may I say how very agreeable it is to have you sitting here as a friend and an ally. Apart from anything else, I know how short-handed or rather short-shipped poor Admiral Fanshawe is in Mahon. He will greet you with open arms, if only to convoy a few merchantmen to the chops of the Channel.’
‘Might I beg you to give me an introduction?’
‘Of course I will. May I help you to another sausage?’
‘Oh, if you please. I have not smelt this divine combination of toast, bacon, sausage and coffee since last I was with my cousins in
They talked about the cousins and about Bath for a few moments and then settled to really serious eating. Grimble, Killick’s mate, had been a pork-butcher by land, and given a bold, thriving hog he could turn out a Leadenhall sausage of the very first order.
Eventually they reached toast, marmalade and the third pot of coffee, and Jack Aubrey said, ‘My orders take me to the Adriatic. With a favourable wind I shall look into Malta for possible but improbable reinforcements and the latest intelligence from those parts, and then proceed to Durazzo and beyond for the purpose of strengthening royalists and of capturing or destroying Bonapartist or- privateering ships. Would it be indiscreet to ask you how the land lies along the coast? I mean the places where there are shipyards that would concern me one way or the other?’
‘It would not be in the least indiscreet, my dear Aubrey,’ said Christy-Palliere, ‘and I will freely tell you all I know. But the situation there is so extremely complicated, with doubtful loyalties, concealed motives, blunders in Paris, that I should have to collect my wits - recollect myself... and I think I could best give you a fairly clear notion of things as they were when I left Castelnuovo if I were to be looking at your charts.’
It was clear to Stephen that Christy-Palliere felt that matters to do with intelligence were no proper subject for general conversation. He agreed most heartily, and presently - two cups of coffee later - he excused himself: not only were there his morning rounds but he also had a minor operation to perform.
‘We shall see you again in the sick-bay towards the end of divisions,’ said Jack to him, and to his guest, ‘I am so glad that you are here on a Sunday. I shall be able to show you one of our Navy’s particular ceremonies: we call it divisions.’
‘Oh indeed?’ cried Christy-Palliere. ‘Then in that case may I beg that Caroline’s secretary may be present? He takes the utmost interest in these matters, and he is writing a comparative study of the different nations’ naval economies, disciplines, ceremonies and the like.’
‘Does the gentleman speak English?’
‘Not a word,’ cried Christy-Palliere, laughing at so wild a notion. ‘Richard speak English? Oh dear me no. Wonderfully fluent in Latin, but English... oh, ha, ha, ha!’
‘Then perhaps Dr Maturin could join us at the beginning of divisions,’ said Jack, with a questioning look at Stephen.
‘Very happy,’ said Dr Maturin, perfectly at ease, since Jacob would be present, with everything perfectly in order when the Commodore and his guest came to inspect the sick-bay. So when five bells in the forenoon watch resounded there he was, so unnaturally trim that he almost did the frigate credit. The bosun piped divisions, and in the howling of the long-drawn notes the Commodore, with his guest and Mr Harding, walked up to the quarterdeck, followed by Stephen and Richard.
Here, as exactly arranged as the men on a chess-board in spite of the swell, stood the Surprise’s Royal Marines, drawn up athwartships right aft, with their officer, sergeant, corporal and drummer. They were in their fine scarlet coats, white waistcoats, tight white breeches and gaiters; their black stocks were as trim and tight as was consistent with breathing at all, their muskets, side-arms, buttons gleaming. Ordinarily, when they were helping with the work of the ship or making part of a gun-crew, they wore seaman’s slops, sometimes with an old Marine jacket or cap. The high pitch of military splendour was reached only when they were on guard-duty or at this climax of the week; and out of Christian charity Jack inspected them first, so that they could be dismissed and no longer suffer in the sun.
This done, with a fine stamp, a dismissive clash of arms and a roll on the drum, the Commodore turned to the purely nautical side.
‘As you see,’ murmured Stephen, ‘the various divisions, each under a particular lieutenant, with sub-divisions under his midshipmen or master’s mates, are already standing along predetermined lines
