The day after the Welfare crossed the Line, she lost her breeze. William, invited to take tea with his uncle in the sultry cabin, expected to find him ready to eat fire. The captain, however, stalking moodily up and down by the stern windows, was more thoughtful than furious.
‘I had hoped, my boy, that we would have picked up the Trade after the Line. That damned breeze has played me false. Time is running on, William, time is running on. I have never been in the doldrums so long in all my time at sea.’
William sipped his tea. He had learned enough in his lessons with Mr Robinson to know that the doldrums were unpredictable, but he had no intention of suggesting to his uncle that they might be becalmed almost indefinitely. He waited quietly.
‘Damned old Neptune!’ laughed Swift. ‘I would have thought he might have graced us with some good breezes in return for so many new acolytes presented with all due ceremony. Stubborn old lad.’ His smile lingered. ‘Bah! Damned superstitious nonsense!’
‘Shall we clear the boats for towing, sir?’ asked William. ‘It had the desired effect last time, that and all the sail-handling.’
Swift sat astride a plush chair and sucked his lower lip. ‘I think not,’ he said. ‘I think we will try a new tack altogether. I think for the moment I will play the hearty fellow with the scum.’
After a minute or so, he bounded up and flashed his wide, bright smile. He smacked the palm of his left hand with his right fist.
‘Surprise! That’s the thing, my boy! Surprise them, keep ’em guessing! That’s the way to have command! They think they know which way the dog will jump, but they do not! Not a jot!’
William looked past the small, powerful form of his uncle at the sullen brazen sea outside. It was like a millpond, flat and unmoving. A glowing, violent heat rose from it. He smiled politely.
‘Surprise, sir?’
‘Surprise, Mr Bentley. They will be expecting work, work, yet more work. They will be expecting kicks and ha’pence, or kicks at least! They will look for rowing, handing sails, drudgery. Instead—’ He stopped. Again the dazzling smile.
‘Instead?’
‘Haha! You see, my boy! Keep ’em guessing! Tell me – what would be your guess?’
No guess at all, thought William. His uncle was very excited. He found it somehow disturbing. No guess at all.
‘I am afraid, sir, you have me beaten,’ he said.
‘Right!’ said Swift gaily. ‘And so I shall the people. They’ll be expecting kicks – and I’ll give ’em ha’pence!’
‘May I be permitted to know what form the “ha’ pence” will take, sir?’ William asked.
The captain laughed.
‘You may not! But you may invite Mr Allgood to pipe all hands aft when you’ve drunk your tea. Then you can hear the news with everybody else.’
Bentley stood up and bowed. As he turned to go, Swift said: ‘Oh, by the by, have we any musicians on board? Excepting Doyle, naturally.’
William half smiled, remembering.
‘Yes, sir,’ he said. ‘At least one. Rather a fine whistle-pipe player, I believe.’
‘Capital!’ said Swift. ‘Capital. I shall speak further to you of that after the people have had their dinners. Capital!’
Broad found himself alongside Matthews as the men moved slowly aft. Everyone was sweating heavily again, and the mood was not good. Another dose of towing to zephyrs was in everyone’s mind, and they did not like it.
‘No punishment today,’ said Matthews drily. ‘And this, I suppose, is the reason for it. He will amuse himself with a different form of torture for once. He plays us like a fiddle, damn him, and cares less for us.’
‘Why, I wonder,’ replied Broad, ‘does he bother to call us aft? Why not just have the orders issued? I think you are right, friend Matthews. He wants to play with us a while.’
A boatswain’s mate made a threatening movement with his rattan. They joined the thronged, sullen, company in silence.
Captain Swift stood in all his glory. He had on a blue coat, a wig, a broad smile. He surveyed the assembled crew with a gaze that was almost affectionate. Broad found him fascinating. So relaxed, so untroubled, so vicious.
‘My jolly lads,’ Swift said at last, ‘I have called you here today to put the fear of God in you. You know I am a stern man, you know I am a tight one. But until this moment you have seen but nothing. Today I will make you quake. Today I will make you quail. Today I will make you damn your mothers’ eyes for bringing you into the world.’ His voice was jolly, full of fun, but the words chilled Jesse.
He glanced at Matthews, whose face was set and grim. What in the name of hell could Swift be planning now?
The captain’s eyes were twinkling. He surveyed the stolid people, his famous smile wide on his face.
‘My boys,’ he went on. ‘You will note the weather. In vain we shaved and lathered yesterday. In vain we paid old Neptune’s tribute, aye twice and thrice over. What wind we had, and it was feeble enough God knows, has been taken away from us. Here we wallow in this bloody calm, like a basket of fish in Portsmouth harbour. What’s to be done, aye, that’s the question.’
Not a man who didn’t know Swift’s answer to that one, or so they thought. The heat was like a hammer. It would be dreadful in those boats.
‘Your shipmates are falling sick like flies,’ said Captain Swift. ‘Mr Adamson reports the sick-bay overflowing. He is the surgeon, and exercise is his cure. Well lads, we all know about exercise on this ship, eh?’
A groan went among the seamen, low but tangible.
Swift gave a brief laugh, his head thrown back. ‘Rowing to the breeze, eh men, is that what you are groaning over? Or perhaps it’s the thought of trimming, trimming, trimming! Every hour of every day! Aye aye, I’ve made you sweat I will allow. But no…’
His face lost its smile. He gazed about him with his piercing gaze.
Broad waited for the stroke.
‘But no,’ repeated Swift. ‘Today I have a new diversion for you. And you’ll curse me for it, oh you’ll curse me for it!’
Broad darted glances at faces nearby. I wonder if he knows, he thought, how great the heap of curses is that these men lay upon his head already.
‘It’s dancing!’ cried Swift, at last. ‘It’s dancing, and music, and sport! Oh boys, I’ll have you crying out for mercy, so I will!’
There was a rumble of confusion as this sank in. What was the man talking about? Had he gone mad? Or was it an odd sort of joke he was trying to make? Matthews shrugged his shoulders, and Broad spread his hands in front of him. Little Peter, who was nearby, squeaked excitedly, taking everything at face value, and got a swish for his pains. But it was not a hard one; the boatswain’s mates were equally confused.
Swift was delighted at the ripple he had spread. He laughed aloud. The men quietened gradually. There was a certain tenseness in the air, as if they expected the news to be false, or to somehow turn out nasty. Broad, in fact, was certain it would. He was wrong.
‘Lads,’ said the captain. ‘This weather is vile, but we must make the best of it. Exercise we must have, but no more towing, no more killing work aloft, eh? You’ve done stout service for me and I’ll ask no more until we get that south-east Trade that must be just around the corner. So it’s dance that’ll do it, dance and sport. We’ll have a band, and we’ll have races up and down the rigging, and we’ll have a little milling. What say you, men?’
A cheer went up, a genuine cheer. Broad, taking the cue, joined in, although his was not so much a cheer as a loud noise to take the place of silence. Matthews hardly had his heart in it, either. But for most, apparently, it was a cheering matter, and in truth, thought Jesse, anything was better than what had gone before. But what a strange man, what a very strange man the captain was.