The Reverse of the Medal. Patrick O’Brian

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СКАЧАТЬ would not receive him, still less introduce him to you,’ said Goole to his wife, ‘if the rules of the service did not require it. He will be here directly, and he must stay for at least ten minutes. I shall not offer him anything to drink, however; and he will not take root. In any case he drinks far too much, like his friend Dundas – another man who cannot keep his breeches on, by the way – half a dozen natural children to my certain knowledge – birds of a feather, birds of a feather. It is the ruin of society.’ A pause. ‘You would never think so to look at him now, but Aubrey was once considered handsome; and it may be that which – hush, here he is.’

      Jack had not forgotten Captain Douglas’s tripe, nor the spectacular consequences of its theft – consequences that had seemed catastrophic at the time, although in fact he could scarcely have spent his time more profitably, since his half-year as a common seaman gave him an intimate, inside knowledge of the lower deck, its likes and dislikes, its beliefs and opinions, and of the true, unvarnished nature of its daily life – nor had he forgotten Goole. But he had forgotten the details of Goole’s conduct, and although he remembered him as something of a scrub he bore him no ill-will; indeed, as he now walked into the cabin he was quite pleased to see such an old shipmate and he congratulated Goole on his marriage with perfect sincerity, smiling upon them both with an amiable candour that improved Mrs Goole’s already favourable opinion of him. She did not find it at all surprising that he had been considered handsome; even now, although his scarred, weather-beaten countenance had nothing, but nothing, of the bloom of youth and although he weighed too much, he was not ill-looking; he had a certain massive, leonine style, and he fairly towered over Goole, who had no style of any kind; and his blue eyes, all the bluer in his mahogany face, had the good-natured expression of one who is willing to be pleased with his company.

      ‘I am a great friend to marriage, ma’am,’ he was saying.

      ‘Indeed, sir?’ she replied; and then, feeling that something more was called for, ‘I believe I had the pleasure of meeting Mrs Aubrey just before I left England, at Lady Hood’s.’

      ‘Oh, how was she?’ cried Jack, his face lighting up with extraordinary pleasure.

      ‘I hope she was the same lady, sir,’ said Mrs Goole hesitantly. ‘Tall, with golden hair done up so, grey eyes and a wonderful complexion; a blue tabby gown with long sleeves gathered here – ’

      ‘Really, Mrs Goole,’ said her husband.

      ‘That is Sophie for sure,’ said Jack. ‘It is an age since I had any word from home, being the far side of the Horn – would give the world to hear from her – pray tell me just how she looked – what she said – I suppose none of the children were there?’

      ‘Only a little boy, a fine little boy, but Mrs Aubrey was telling Admiral Sawyer about her daughters’ chickenpox, now so far behind them that she had allowed Captain Dundas to take them a-sailing in his cutter.’

      ‘Bless them’ cried Jack, sitting down beside her; and they engaged in a close conversation on the subject of chickenpox, its harmless and even beneficent nature, the necessity for passing through such things at an early age, together with considerations on the croup, measles, thrush, and redgum, until the flagship’s bell reminded him that he must return to the Surprise for his fiddle.

      The diseases that Dr Maturin and Mr Waters discussed were of quite a different order of gravity, but at last Stephen stood up, turned down the cuffs of his coat, and said, ‘I believe I may venture to assert, though with all the inevitable reserves, of course, that it is not malignant, and that we are in the presence not of the tumour you mentioned, still less of a metastasis – God between us and evil – but of a splanchnic teratoma. It is awkwardly situated however and must be removed at once.’

      ‘Certainly, dear colleague,’ said Waters, fairly glowing with relief. ‘At once. How grateful I am for your opinion!’

      ‘I never much care for opening a belly,’ observed Stephen, looking at the belly in question with an objective, considering eye, rather like a butcher deciding upon his cut. ‘And of course in such a position I should require intelligent assistance. Are your mates competent?’

      ‘They are reckless drunken empirical sots, the pair of them, the merest illiterate sawbones. I should be most reluctant to have either of them lay a hand on me.’

      Stephen considered for a while: it was difficult enough in all conscience to love one’s fellow men by land, let alone cooped up in the same ship with no possibility of escape from daily contact, or even to remain on civil terms; and clearly Waters had not accomplished this necessary naval feat. He said, ‘I have no mate myself. The gunner, running mad, murdered him off the coast of Chile. But our chaplain, Mr Martin, has a considerable knowledge of physic and surgery; he is an eminent naturalist and we have dissected a great many bodies together, both warm-blooded and cold; but as far as I can recall he has not seen the opening of a living human abdomen and I am sure it would give him pleasure. If you wish, I will ask him to attend. In any case I must return to the ship for my violoncello.’

      Stephen mounted the Irresistible’s various ladders, losing his way once or twice but emerging at last into the brilliant light of the quarterdeck. He stood blinking for a while, and then, putting on his blue spectacles, he saw that the larboard side of the ship was crowded with bumboats and returning liberty-men. The flag-lieutenant was leaning over the rail, chewing a piece of sugar-cane and bargaining for a basket of limes, a basket of guavas, and an enormous pine-apple; when these had been hoisted aboard Stephen said to him, ‘William Richardson, joy, will you tell me where the Captain is, now?’

      ‘Why, Doctor, he went back to the ship just after five bells.’

      ‘Five bells,’ repeated Stephen. ‘Sure, he said something about five bells. I shall be reproved for unpunctuality again. Oh, oh. What shall I do?’

      ‘Do not let it prey on your mind, sir,’ said Richardson. ‘I will pull you over in the jolly-boat; it is no great way, and I should like to see some of my old shipmates again. Captain Pullings told me that Mowett was your premier now. Lord! Only think of old Mowett as a first lieutenant! But, sir, you are not the only one to be asking after Captain Aubrey. There is a person just come aboard again on the same errand – there he is,’ he added, nodding along the larboard gangway to where a tall young black man stood among a group of hands. Stephen recognized them all as men he had sailed with in former commissions, most of them Irish, all of them Catholics, and he observed that they were looking at him with curiously amused expressions while at the same time they gently, respectfully urged the tall young black man to go aft; and before Stephen had time to call out a greeting – before he could decide between ‘Ho, shipfellows’ and ‘Avast, messmates’ – the young man began walking towards the quarterdeck. He was dressed in a plain snuff-coloured suit of clothes, heavy square-toed shoes and a broad-brimmed hat; he had something of the air of a Quaker or a seminarist, but of an uncommonly powerful, athletic seminarist, like those from the western parts of Ireland who might be seen walking about the streets of Salamanca; and it was in the very tones of an Irish seminarist that he now addressed Stephen, taking off his hat as he did so. ‘Dr Maturin, sir, I believe?’

      ‘The same, sir,’ said Stephen, returning his salute. ‘The same, at your service.’ He spoke a little at random, for the bare-headed young man standing there in the full sun before him was the spit, the counterpart, the image of Jack Aubrey with some twenty years and several stone taken off, done in shining ebony. It made no odds that the young man’s hair was a tight cap of black curls rather than Jack’s long yellow locks, nor that his nose had no Roman bridge; his whole essence, his person, his carriage was the same, and even the particular tilt of his head as he now leant towards Stephen with a modest, deferential look. ‘Pray sir, let us put on our hats, СКАЧАТЬ