LITMIR.BIZ

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Jack, ‘they are vessels armed and fitted out to cruise against the enemy, often by merchants and ship-owners that cannot carry on their trade because of the war; and the Admiralty gives them letters of marque and reprisal. They are allowed to capture ships of the enemy nation named in their commission, and if the ships are condemned as lawful prize then they have them, just as we do. They have head-money too, like the Navy: five pounds for every man aboard the enemy at the beginning of the action.’

      ‘So it is very much like the Navy altogether, except that the King does not have to provide the boat – the ship, I mean.’

      ‘Oh no,’ said Jack. ‘It is quite different.’

      ‘It is not at all the same,’ said Mowett.

      ‘I have often heard privateers referred to with strong reprobation,’ remarked Stephen. ‘As, “Dog of a privateer, go your ways.” It is certainly a term of reproach.’

      ‘Forgive me if I am obtuse,’ said Martin, ‘but if both public and private ships of war attack the enemy under licence from Government, making legal prize of his merchantmen and distressing his trade, I cannot see the distinction.’

      ‘Oh, it is not at all the same,’ said Jack.

      ‘No, no,’ said Mowett. ‘It is quite different.’

      ‘You are to consider, my dear sir,’ said Stephen, ‘that the privateer is primarily concerned with gain; he lives on captured merchantmen. Whereas the gentlemen of the Royal Navy live chiefly on glory, and fairly scorn a prize.’

      Both Jack and Mowett laughed, but not quite so heartily as Martin and Stephen, who had seen the gentlemen of the Navy in pursuit of a flying merchantman, their eyes starting from their heads and every nerve and sinew twanging-tight, and Jack said, ‘No, sir, but in all sober earnest we do endeavour to make prize of the enemy’s men-of-war first, and sometimes we succeed, at the cost of tolerably hard knocks. And that is more than can be said for the common privateer, who as the Doctor says is primarily concerned with pewter, with gain. Indeed, some of them are so concerned with it that they overstep the mark between privateering and piracy. That is what has given them such a bad name: that and the kind of men they ship, particularly the inshore privateers, who merely want a swarm of determined ruffians to board and overwhelm the trader’s crew.’

      ‘When I was last in London, I heard a statistical gentleman set the number of privateersmen at fifty thousand,’ remarked Stephen.

      ‘You astonish me,’ said Martin. ‘That is a third of all our seamen and Marines.’

      Jack however had been following his own line of thought and now he said, ‘Yet you are not to suppose that they are all tarred with the same feathers. Most privateers are very fine vessels, built for speed of course, and well manned, often with prime seamen; and their officers are sometimes perfectly respectable. Many an unemployed lieutenant has taken command of a privateer, rather than rot on the beach. There was one I knew, William Foster, such a good fellow – we were shipmates in Euryalus – he had one. You remember, Mowett: we spoke him in the chops of the Channel and he begged us not to take any of his men. And he very nearly made his fortune, taking a Hamburger fairly bursting with spices and silk; but he always was an unlucky wight and on some legal quibble or other the prize-court refused to condemn her.’

      ‘Lord, sir,’ cried Mowett. ‘I do beg your pardon, but Pullings’ letter quite deprived me of my wits and I completely forgot to beg you to honour the gunroom with your presence tomorrow. We are giving the American officers a farewell dinner: that is to say, those of them that are fit.’

      ‘It is very kind in you, Mowett,’ said Jack, ‘but I am afraid the court may not adjourn until three or even later. It would never do to keep your guests slavering until then. Let me take a quick bite aboard the flag and join you for pudding. I should be sorry not to pay them every proper attention.’

      The court did not in fact rise until past four, having packed a great deal of business into the day, but as the barge carried Captain Aubrey and Dr Maturin back to the Surprise it was clear to them that the gunroom’s farewell dinner was still in progress. It was also clear to them that this was a very cheerful gathering, with a great deal of laughter and song, and both men realized that they would have to change their grave and even sombre faces. The trial alone had been enough to make Jack sombre, in all conscience, particularly as it seemed that late tomorrow, a Saturday, they might start passing sentence: and there was only one sentence that could be passed. But after the adjournment Goole had said, ‘We have done a good day’s work, gentlemen. The Admiral hopes that we may finish tomorrow, so that if there should be any sentences he may confirm them directly and have them carried out the next day.’

      ‘But the next day would be Sunday,’ cried the young commander, who knew very well that every man before the court would be found guilty and sentenced to death.

      ‘That is the whole point,’ said Goole. ‘A Sunday hanging is most uncommon. Was we to finish sentencing on Monday, a Tuesday execution would be commonplace in comparison, although there are so many to be hanged. And if he stood them over till the next Sunday it would not have the same effect at all.’

      And shortly after the rising of the court Mr Stone said to Stephen, whom he found on the deserted poop after a prolonged medical session first with the Admiral and then with the now delirious Mr Waters, ‘Oh Dr Maturin, I have a piece of news that will interest Captain Aubrey – you know how these odd scraps of information reach the C-in-C’s secretariat. My informant, a thoroughly reliable source, tells me that the Spartan sailed from New Bedford on a cruise, victualled for three months, five days ago.’ He said this with a slightly knowing, confidential air and he clearly wished it to be understood that he had to do with intelligence-work, that he too had to do with intelligence-work and would not be averse to a little comfortable chat on the subject.

      Stephen repelled the advance with impenetrable reserve and stupidity, and he was certain that Stone would never take such a foolish and improper liberty with him again. But he was equally certain that his double character was known or at least suspected in places where he had thought himself safe, and that with each fresh spread of this knowledge his usefulness and his safety diminished.

      ‘Here you are, sir!’ they cried as the Captain of Surprise came in, bending under the gunroom beams as he had bent this many a year and wearing a pretty good party-face. ‘Here you are, sir, and very welcome too.’ Mowett placed his chair for him and he sat there at the long table opposite Butcher, the guest of honour on Mowett’s right. It was a familiar sight, this long low crowded gunroom, the diners packed four on a side and one at each end and as many servants moving about or standing behind their chairs, just as Killick had now moved to stand behind Jack’s and big Padeen Colman, stooping low, behind Stephen’s. The atmosphere was familiar too: the Surprise had always been a hospitable ship and there was a rosy, loquacious cheerfulness in the room that even the arrival of a post-captain could scarcely damp.

      ‘We have kept back the pudding for you, sir,’ said Mowett, ‘and meanwhile Mr Butcher has been asking us riddles, some of them most amazingly clever. The present one, that we cannot find out, is What is never out of fashion?’

      Jack tried to think of something witty to say, but wit was not at his command so soon after trying men for their lives and he sat there shaking his head, looking interested and amiable. Various suggestions came from up and down the table, but never the right answer. ‘No, gentlemen,’ said Butcher, ‘you will never guess it, though yours is quite a manly service. What is never out of fashion is the getting of bastards, ha, ha, ha!’

      In the split second before he began his laugh, rather heartier than the occasion required, Jack saw the eyes of all his officers instantly turn upon him: they expressed concern and support and all hands followed his lead with a violence that gratified Butcher and astonished the tall American midshipman, who had been exposed to the surgeon’s riddles for ten thousand miles and who had thought them sad stuff even at the first hearing. Encouraged, Butcher now asked ‘What did the fellow say who ran his nose against the door in the dark, although he had his arms stretched out?’ but the entrance of

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