‘That, or be driven out of my wits before my time.’ He slumped into a chair and picked at the offerings. ‘The man shows willing, but …’ He gave a theatrical sigh.
‘We has to do something,’ Gilbey snapped. ‘I don’t fancy standing watch an’ watch for ever – which is what’ll happen if’n he’s landed in Jamaica. We’ll never find another l’tenant there.’
The warrant officers held silent: it was not their place to criticise an officer, but the gunner found a way. ‘Then there’s no word yet about a l’tenant at quarters, then, Mr Gilbey?’ he asked innocently.
That was the nub: this was a fighting frigate, and if their third lieutenant couldn’t be trusted to lead his men at quarters or to take charge of a division, what use was he?
There was only an unintelligible growl in response.
Clinton said mildly, ‘He’s a decent sort of chap, I find. Get him going about the Caribbean and he’s an entertainment well enough.’
‘As we need in a ship o’ war,’ snarled Gilbey, throwing down his paper. ‘How the fool got his step I’ve no clue.’
Renzi, as always in a corner chair, set down his drink carefully. ‘It might be profitable for us to consider his origins before going to judgement on the fellow.’
‘His origins?’ Curzon said warily. Renzi, with his learning, was accorded respect in their little world and all quietened to hear what he had to say.
‘Indeed. He’s born and bred a Barbadian, of a respectable family. So we must ask why, then, should he seek a life at sea?’
‘And?’
‘I believe he wishes to be at a distance from the life he was born into, even as he has a taking for his Caribbean world.’
‘A pity he thinks to be a sea officer.’
‘Er, I believe this, too, deserves our attention. Consider – his is not the life of ambition and ardour so warmly displayed in this gunroom. He harbours no desire to return, well promoted, to cold and unwelcoming England, to him a foreign shore. Therefore he contrives to see service in smaller, unnoticed vessels – your gun-brigs, cutters and similar, all of which carry little danger of unwelcome promotion.’
There were smiles of understanding around the table. ‘He’s badgered by his father for the sake of outward show to make something of this naval exile and passes as lieutenant. At this point the only way he can achieve his swab is to be appointed into a ship of size, which, unfortunately for him, is Hannibal, Captain Tyrell. I can only begin to imagine what he suffered before he thought to be taken by the fever.’
He ignored Gilbey’s ill-natured grunts, and continued, ‘Therefore we have before us an oddity, not to say curiosity, a naval officer whose entire existence has been within the confines of the very smallest of King George’s sail. Now I ask you to conceive of duty in such for a youngster forming habits of sea service. No big-ship ways to encourage him to a respectful understanding of our traditions, no ocean-going routines to fall in with, no taste of the puissance of the great guns. In short, he’s nearly as much a stranger to our life as the merest landman.’
‘If you saw him handle the men,’ Curzon drawled. ‘Good God! Even a—’
‘He was perhaps the only midshipman aboard,’ Renzi went on, with quiet conviction. ‘He must command hard men, some twice his age. With none to stand at his back, he finds a reasoned, mild approach more to his liking than hard-horse discipline, and I dare to say he’s well practised in the art. That our own tars do expect a more, er, hearty manner is not altogether his fault.’
The master coughed quietly. ‘It’s not unkind to say that he’s a little rum in his nauticals, as we might say. I saw him brace around wi’ men still on the yard and—’
‘It would be strange indeed if, after such an apprenticeship in coastal fore ’n’ aft rig, he’s as well practised in ocean square-rig, wouldn’t you say, Mr Kendall?’
‘You’re just takin’ the bonehead’s part!’ accused Gilbey.
‘Not at all,’ Renzi replied coolly. ‘I’m only pointing out that should you not recognise his limitations then you stand to be watchkeeping for months or years to come. The choice is yours, of course.’
‘Be damned to that jackass!’ Gilbey burst out. ‘If he don’t come it the sea officer soon, I’ll—’
‘Mr Curzon, sir,’ the mate-of-the-watch interrupted from the door, perfectly blank-faced.
‘What is it?’
‘Mr Buckle’s compliments, and … and could you come on deck instanter …’