Master and Commander. Patrick O’Brian

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СКАЧАТЬ ha, ha … if only I can get men: that’s the great point…’ He was exceedingly hungry and thirsty: he darted to the bell and pulled it violently, but before the rope had stopped quivering his head was out in the corridor and he was hailing the chambermaid. ‘Mercy! Mercy! Oh, there you are, my dear. What can you bring me to eat, manger, mangiare? Pollo? Cold roast pollo? And a bottle of wine, vino – two bottles of vino. And Mercy, will you come and do something for me? I want you, désirer, to do something for me, eh? Sew on, cosare, a button.’

      ‘Yes, Teniente,’ said Mercedes, her eyes rolling in the candlelight and her teeth flashing white.

      ‘Not teniente,’ cried Jack, crushing the breath out of her plump, supple body. ‘Capitan! Capitano, ha, ha, ha!’

      He woke in the morning straight out of a deep, deep sleep: he was fully awake, and even before he opened his eyes he was brimming with the knowledge of his promotion.

      ‘She is not quite a first-rate, of course,’ he observed, ‘but who on earth wants a blundering great first-rate, with not the slightest chance of an independent cruise? Where is she lying? Beyond the ordnance quay, in the next berth to the Rattler. I shall go down directly and have a look at her – waste not a minute. No, no. That would never do – must give them fair warning. No: the first thing I must do is to go and render thanks in the proper quarters and make an appointment with Allen – dear old Allen – I must wish him joy.’

      The first thing he did in point of fact was to cross the road to the naval outfitter’s and pledge his now elastic credit to the extent of a noble, heavy, massive epaulette, the mark of his present rank – a symbol which the shopman fixed upon his left shoulder at once and upon which they both gazed with great complacency in the long glass, the shopman looking from behind Jack’s shoulder with unfeigned pleasure on his face.

      As the door closed behind him Jack saw the man in the black coat on the other side of the road, near the coffee-house. The evening flooded back into his mind and he hurried across, calling out, ‘Mr – Mr Maturin. Why, there you are, sir. I owe you a thousand apologies, I am afraid. I must have been a sad bore to you last night, and I hope you will forgive me. We sailors hear so little music – are so little used to genteel company – that we grow carried away. I beg your pardon.’

      ‘My dear sir,’ cried the man in the black coat, with an odd flush rising in his dead-white face, ‘you had every reason to be carried away. I have never heard a better quartetto in my life – such unity, such fire. May I propose a cup of chocolate, or coffee? It would give me great pleasure.’

      ‘You are very good, sir. I should like it of all things. To tell the truth, I was in such a hurry of spirits I forgot my breakfast. I have just been promoted,’ he added, with an off-hand laugh.

      ‘Have you indeed? I wish you joy of it with all my heart, sure. Pray walk in.’

      At the sight of Mr Maturin the waiter waved his forefinger in that discouraging Mediterranean gesture of negation – an inverted pendulum. Maturin shrugged, said to Jack, ‘The posts are wonderfully slow these days,’ and to the waiter, speaking in the Catalan of the island, ‘Bring us a pot of chocolate, Jep, furiously whipped, and some cream.’

      ‘You speak the Spanish, sir?’ said Jack, sitting down and flinging out the skirts of his coat to clear his sword in a wide gesture that filled the low room with blue. ‘That must be a splendid thing, to speak the Spanish. I have often tried, and with French and Italian too; but it don’t answer. They generally understand me, but when they say anything, they speak so quick I am thrown out. The fault is here, I dare say,’ he observed, rapping his forehead. ‘It was the same with Latin when I was a boy: and how old Pagan used to flog me.’ He laughed so heartily at the recollection that the waiter with the chocolate laughed too, and said, ‘Fine day, Captain, sir, fine day!’

      ‘Prodigious fine day,’ said Jack, gazing upon his rat-like visage with great benevolence. ‘Bello soleil, indeed. But,’ he added, bending down and peering out of the upper part of the window, ‘it would not surprise me if the tramontana were to set in.’ Turning to Mr Maturin he said, ‘As soon as I was out of bed this morning I noticed that greenish look in the nor-nor-east, and I said to myself, “When the sea-breeze dies away, I should not be surprised if the tramontana were to set in.” ’

      ‘It is curious that you should find foreign languages difficult, sir,’ said Mr Maturin, who had no views to offer on the weather, ‘for it seems reasonable to suppose that a good ear for music would accompany a facility for acquiring – that the two would necessarily run together.’

      ‘I am sure you are right, from a philosophical point of view,’ said Jack. ‘But there it is. Yet it may well be that my musical ear is not so very famous, neither; though indeed I love music dearly. Heaven knows I find it hard enough to pitch upon the true note, right in the middle.’

      ‘You play, sir?’

      ‘I scrape a little, sir. I torment a fiddle from time to time.’

      ‘So do I! So do I! Whenever I have leisure, I make my attempts upon the ’cello.’

      ‘A noble instrument,’ said Jack, and they talked about Boccherini, bows and rosin, copyists, the care of strings, with great satisfaction in one another’s company until a brutally ugly clock with a lyre-shaped pendulum struck the hour: Jack Aubrey emptied his cup and pushed back his chair. ‘You will forgive me, I am sure. I have a whole round of official calls and an interview with my predecessor. But I hope I may count upon the honour, and may I say the pleasure – the great pleasure – of your company for dinner?’

      ‘Most happy,’ said Maturin, with a bow.

      They were at the door. ‘Then may we appoint three o’clock at the Crown?’ said Jack. ‘We do not keep fashionable hours in the service, and I grow so devilish hungry and peevish by then that you will forgive me, I am sure. We will wet the swab, and when it is handsomely awash, why then perhaps we might try a little music, if that would not be disagreeable to you.’

      ‘Did you see that hoopoe?’ cried the man in the black coat.

      ‘What is a hoopoe?’ cried Jack, staring about.

      ‘A bird. That cinnamon-coloured bird with barred wings. Upupa epops. There! There, over the roof. There! There!’

      ‘Where? Where? How does it bear?’

      ‘It has gone now. I had been hoping to see a hoopoe ever since I arrived. In the middle of the town! Happy Mahon, to have such denizens. But I beg your pardon. You were speaking of wetting a swab.’

      ‘Oh, yes. It is a cant expression we have in the Navy. The swab is this’ – patting his epaulette – ‘and when first we ship it, we wet it: that is to say, we drink a bottle or two of wine.’

      ‘Indeed?’ said Maturin with a civil inclination of his head. ‘A decoration, a badge of rank, I make no doubt? A most elegant ornament, so it is, upon my soul. But, my dear sir, have you not forgot the other one?’

      ‘Well,’ said Jack, laughing, ‘I dare say I shall put them both on, by and by. Now I will wish you a good day and thank you for the excellent chocolate. I am so happy that you saw your epop.’

      The first call Jack had to pay was to the senior captain, the naval commandant of Port Mahon. Captain Harte lived in a big rambling house belonging to one Martinez, a Spanish merchant, and he had an official set of rooms on the far side of the patio. As Jack crossed the open spaces he heard СКАЧАТЬ