HMS Surprise. Patrick O’Brian
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present state of the world.’
‘Is it the state of the world, my dear?’ said Stephen, with a grin – no professional look left at all. ‘Well now, for the moment, it is plain enough. On our side we have Austria, Russia, Sweden and Naples, which is the same as your Two Sicilies; and on his he has a whole cloud of little states, and Bavaria and Holland and Spain. Not that these alliances are of much consequence one side or the other: The Russians were with us, and then against us until they strangled their Czar, and now with us; and I dare say they will change again, when the whim bites. The Austrians left the war in ’97 and then again in the year one, after Hohenlinden: the same thing may happen again any day. What matters to us is Holland and Spain, for they have navies; and if ever this war is to be won, it must be won at sea. Bonaparte has about forty-five ships of the line, and we have eighty-odd, which sounds well enough. But ours are scattered all over the world and his are not. Then again the Spaniards have twenty-seven, to say nothing of the Dutch; so it is essential to prevent them from combining, for if Bonaparte can assemble a superior force in the Channel, even for a little while, then his invasion army can come across, God forbid. That is why Jack and Lord Nelson are beating up and down off Toulon, bottling up Monsieur de Villeneuve with his eleven ships of the line and seven frigates, preventing them from combining with the Spaniards in Cartagena and Cadiz and Ferrol; and that is where I am going to join him as soon as I have been to London to settle one or two little points of business and to buy a large quantity of madder. So if you have any messages, now is the time; for, Sophie, I am upon the wing.’ He stood up, scattering crumbs, and the clock on the black cabinet struck the hour.
‘Oh, Stephen, must you go?’ cried Sophie. ‘Let me brush you a little. Will you not stay to supper? Pray, do stay to supper – I will make you toasted cheese.’
‘I will not, my dear, though you are very kind,’ said Stephen, standing like a horse as she brushed at him, turned down his collar and twitched at his cravat – since his disappointment he had grown less nice about his linen; he had given up the practice of brushing his clothes or his boots, and neither his face nor his hands were particularly clean. ‘There is a meeting of the Entomological Society that I might just be able to attend, if I hurry. There, there, my dear, that will do: Mary and Joseph, I am not going to Court – the entomologists do not set up for beaux. Now give me a kiss, like a good creature, and tell me what I am to say – what messages I am to give to Jack.’
‘How I wish, oh how I wish I were going with you … It would be of no use begging him to be prudent, not to take risks, I suppose?’
‘I will mention it, if you choose. But believe me, honey, Jack is not an imprudent man – not at sea. He never takes a risk without he has weighed it very carefully: he loves his ship and his men too much, far too much, to run them into any unconsidered danger – he is not one of your wild, hit-or-miss, fire-eating rapparees.’
‘He would not do anything rash?’
‘Never in life. It’s true, you know; quite true,’ he added, seeing that Sophia was not wholly persuaded that Jack at sea and Jack ashore were two different persons.
‘Well,’ she said, and paused. ‘How long it seems; everything seems to take so very long.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Stephen, with an assumed liveliness. ‘Parliament rises in a few weeks’ time; Captain Hamond will go back to his ship, and Jack will be thrown on the beach again. You will see as much of him as your heart could desire. Now what shall I say?’
‘Give him my dearest love, Stephen, if you please; and pray, pray, take the greatest care of yourself, too.’
Dr Maturin walked into the Entomological Society’s meeting as the Reverend Mr Lamb began his paper on Certain Non-Descript Beetles found on the Shore at Pringlejuxta-Mare in the Year 1799. He sat down at the back and listened closely for a while; but presently the gentleman strayed from his theme (as everyone had known he would) and began to harangue the gathering on the hibernation of swallows; for he had found a new prop for his theory – not only did they fly in ever-decreasing circles, conglobulate in a mass and plunge to the bottoms of quiet ponds, but they also took refuge in the shafts of tin-mines, ‘of Cornish tin-mines, gentlemen!’ Stephen’s attention wandered, and he glanced over the restless entomologists; several he knew – the worthy Dr Musgrave, who had favoured him with a prime carena quindecimpunctata; Mr Tolston, of stag-beetle fame; Eusebius Piscator, that learned Swede – and surely the plump back and powdered queue looked familiar? It was odd how one’s eye must take in and store innumerable measurements and proportions; a back was almost as recognisable as a face. This applied also to gait, stance, lift of head: what countless references at every turn! This back was turned from his with an odd, unnatural twist, and its owner’s left hand was raised, resting on his jaw in such a way as to shield his face: no doubt it was this twist that had caught his eye; yet in all their dealings he had never seen Sir Joseph writhe himself into such an attitude.
‘… and so, gentlemen, I believe I may confidently state that the hibernation of swallows, and of all the other hirundines, is conclusively proved,’ said Mr Lamb, with a defiant glare at his audience.
‘I am sure we are all very grateful to Mr Lamb,’ said the chairman, in an atmosphere of general discontent, with some cross shuffling of feet and murmuring. ‘And although I am afraid that we are now short of time – perhaps not all the papers can be read – allow me to call on Sir Joseph Blaine to favour us with his remarks on A True Gynandromorph recently added to his Cabinet.’
Sir Joseph half rose in his place and begged to be excused – he had left his notes behind – he was not perfectly well, and would not try the patience of the meeting by trying to speak without ’em – he begged pardon, but thought he would retire. It was only a passing indisposition, he said, to reassure the company: the company would not have cared if it had been the great spotted leprosy – three entomologists were already on their feet, eager for immortality in the society’s Proceedings.
‘What am I to infer from this?’ asked Stephen of himself, as Sir Joseph passed with a distant bow; and during the following account of luminous beetles, lately received from Surinam – a fascinating account, which he should certainly read with great attention later – a cold presentiment formed in his bosom.
He carried this presentiment with him from the meeting; but he had not walked a hundred yards before a discreet messenger accosted him and gave him a card with a cipher and an invitation not to Sir Joseph’s official apartments but to a little house behind Shepherd Market.
‘How good of you to come,’ said Sir Joseph, seating Stephen by the fire in what was clearly his library, study and drawing-room; it was comfortable, even luxurious, in the style of fifty years before; and cases of butterflies alternated with pornographic pictures on the walls – emphatically a private house. ‘How truly kind.’ He was nervous and ill at ease, and he said ‘how truly kind’ again: Stephen said nothing. ‘I begged you to come here,’ Sir Joseph went on, ‘because this is my private shall I say refuge, and I feel I owe you a private explanation. When I saw you this evening I was not expecting you; my conscience gave me a rude jerk – it put me about strangely, because I have exceedingly disagreeable news for you, news that I should rather have any other man deliver but that necessarily falls to me. I had prepared myself for it at our meeting tomorrow morning; and I should have done it well enough, I dare say. But seeing you suddenly there, in that atmosphere … To put it in a word,’ he said, putting down the poker with which he had been teasing the fire, ‘there has been a grave indiscretion at the Admiralty – your name was mentioned and insisted upon at a general meeting, in direct connexion with the action off Cadiz.’ Stephen bowed, but still said nothing. Sir Joseph, looking at him covertly, went on. ‘Of course, I drowned the indiscretion at once, and afterwards I let it be understood that you were aboard by chance, that you were bound for some undefined Eastern region in a scientific or quasi-diplomatic capacity in which a commission would be necessary for your status, for your eventual negotiations, citing the precedent of Banks and Halley – that its connexion with this incident was purely fortuitous and coincidental, occasioned only by the need for extreme haste. This I have put about as the true inside story, far more secret than the interception, known only to