Man Of War

The very devil of it! His first evening he would as a rule have had his lieutenant and two or three of the others, the master perhaps, and the chaplain (being a son of the parsonage, despite some distinctly unreligious views, he did favour a chaplain when there was one, which was not often on a frigate, and certainly never in his experience one of any profound learning – ‘the Reverend Mr Lack-Latin’). Why in heaven’s name was Codrington’s daughter going to Malta? He sighed again, and shrugged: fool of a question; why should she not be going to Malta? That was what daughters did, he supposed – go to see their fathers. He shook his head; it was extraordinary how little he knew of what young ladies did. Except that Miss Rebecca Codrington was but a child. He shook his head again. No, that would not do. She was by his own reckoning thirteen or fourteen: no longer, as the rascals of the midshipmen’s berth would have it, ‘jail-bait’. But as far as he was concerned Miss Rebecca Codrington was a minor – whatever the law said – and he would not have her subjected to any familiarity. Then came further doubts: he supposed she ate the same food as a grown-up woman . . .

With the wind now abeam and freshening by the minute (he pulled his hat on a fraction tighter), they were beginning to make leeway. There was more than enough sea space to tack clear of the point, however, or even to wear it, especially with the sea running so calm. Peto was beginning to wonder when the master would take in sail, or brace them round, but Mr Shand merely turned Rupert another point into the wind. Still he would not interfere: the ship was in no danger. Shand was just risking having to call all hands on deck to shorten sail quickly.

In five more minutes Peto saw for certain that Rupert’s line of movement through the water would take her well clear of the point, and with the wind veering if anything she would probably only increase the clearing distance. Nisus would not have answered like that, he knew; she would be making more leeway, and running perhaps two knots faster. He had told the old hands that a three-decker could handle as well as a frigate, and he knew it – as long as the captain gave his orders five knots faster. He would, anyway, have to learn Rupert’s handling keenly, and he was glad of Shand’s no doubt unintended demonstration of how she ran in light airs.

Half an hour later, Shand ordered the helm to starboard, and sail braced square. Rupert’s bow began turning away from the wind and the fast-falling sun, and the smiles on the faces of trimmers and topmen alike said it all. The screaming of the gulls fell away to the growing noise of timber and rope, the assurance that the ship was straining – working.

‘Carry on, Mr Lambe,’ said Peto, satisfied, quitting his chosen place aft of the wheel and to weather, touching his hat to acknowledge the salute he did not see but knew had been given. He could now at least leave the quarter-deck, entirely content, and with that face the prospect of dinner with some equanimity.

He went to his cabin. Flowerdew had laid the table already. The glasses, flatware and cutlery were well set, with not the slightest disturbance as Rupert continued to gather speed. He wondered if Miss Rebecca Codrington suffered at all from seasickness, for if she did she was fortunate indeed that there was such weather at this time of year; the change of seasons could bring the severest of storms in the western Mediterranean. Seasickness had never troubled him, no matter how heavy the weather. He fancied he could at least in that respect claim superiority to Nelson; and to countless others, for that matter – seasoned hands – who would cast up for days in the lightest swell at the start of a voyage, until they found their sea legs, to remain untroubled by the worst of things thereafter. It would, of course, be more convenient if his passenger confined herself to her cabin (though the crew would not be able to clear so fully for practice-action tomorrow), but he would wish seasickness on no one save the King’s enemies.