"But, the island governor's wife s roses and azaleas, Mister Langlie!" Lewrie exclaimed, referring again to Treghues's damned note. "The bloody tree from right outside the governor's courtyard!"
"Ahern was especially covetous of the roses, sir," Lt. Langlie morosely commented. He'd been up all night, from the first alert he'd gotten from the garrison's Officer of the Guard, and was, by now, much the worse for wear. "His old grannie was a herbalist healer, or so he says, and highly recommended rose hips for those feeling poorly. The, ah… argument over which ship got the roses and such never really did get to an outright brawl, though hundreds of sailors were involved, not just our Proteuses, sir! Men off Grafton, Horatius, and Navy tars off the homebound escort ships were actually the greatest offenders… or so I heard from the other First Lieutenants, once we were all summoned to the Mundens Fort at dawn, sir. Once there, we compared notes, held a little 'guild meeting,' as it were…"
"The tree, Mister Langlie?" Lewrie pressed.
"The tree, aye, sir," Langlie said with a put-upon sigh. "Furfy clapped eyes on it, and swore it was the very sort of tree that stood just outside his childhood croft back in Ireland, sir, and…"
"And was it?" Lewrie asked, most dubiously.
"I rather doubt it, sir," Langlie replied with a brief grin on his phyz. "It was a twenty-foot Chinese magnolia. Furfy said, though, that it'd look grand forrud of the roundhouse. Give shelter and shade for hands at the beakhead rails, and the 'seats of ease'? It required hundreds of sailors to up-root it, and bear it back to the piers, sir, where they discovered that it wouldn't go in even the largest cutter without swamping it, so they did return it, and tried to re-plant it… sort of, sir. That's when the garrison mustered a company of infantry."
"Mine arse on a band-box!" Lewrie attempted to growl, picturing it in his mind's eye. The only scene he could conjure up was a horde of tars dancing and weaving ribbons 'round a mobile May Pole. He used his napkin to conceal his snicker.
"Well, was it returned, and mostly re-planted, it wasn't rightly stealing, was it, Mister Langlie?" he hopefully asked. Under English Common Law, the theft of anything worth more than a guinea would earn the perpetrator-in this case, perpetrators!-a hanging. There were urchins in London who'd met "Captain Swing" or been transported for life for the theft of a loaf of bread or silk pocket handkerchief!
The governor-general and his wife might be that wroth, he told himself; Sir Tobias-bloody- Treghues, for certain, if they 're not!
"I gathered Saint Helena 's governor has seen a deal worse, sir," Langlie told him, "though he may be a long time forgetting this one. I was informed he'd only press for monetary damages, though that may be subject to change. The shrubs suffered no permanent harm, though that magnolia tree may be ruined. 'Tis a shallow-rooted thing, and, there wasn't a single blossom or leaf left on it when it was returned. The spoils of war, victory laurels, I suppose the Mob thought, sir. There is also mention of a Chinese lap dog missing, a pug something or other, very dear to the governor's wife. All ships are to be searched for it."
"Not aboard Proteus, thank God," Lewrie sighed, for a search had already been made. "Now, what about this low brawl?" he asked as both his cats, eager for attention from two such affable people, chose a lap or the table top; Chalky to Langlie's lap, where he rolled over onto his back and wriggled for "pets" or "play," all four feet pawing air, and trilling shut-mouthed for amusement. Toulon sniffed about the edge of Lewrie's breakfast plate, first, then flopped on his side, just out of easy reach, with his thick tail thumping the table, and his own paws "rabbited" against his chest, issuing louder, more insistent "Mmrrs!" "Now, that wasn't our lads' doing, sir!" Langlie objected in an insulted manner. "Hands off Adamant objected to sailors off any ship drinking in 'their' private tavern. One of the homebound two-deckers she is, sir… the greatest offenders, as I earlier said. The tavern in question is the one nearest the piers, and too convenient to be the sole property of one ship, so… the last hours of liberty, our lads popped in for a last pint… or two… the Adamants took exception to not only our lads, but any Navy sailors they didn't recognise, and especially to our Black hands, and fell on our people.
"Well, sir… the rest of our tars weren't having any of that, neither were our Marines, sir!" Lt. Langlie further explained. "Just before it got completely out of hand, Mister Neale, the Master-At-Arms, and his party turned up, mustered petty officers off every ship, and broke it up. The publican's damage claims are rather piddling…"
"Nineteen pounds, ten shillings, five pence," Lewrie muttered, "Grossly inflated or not, 'tis not exactly 'piddling,' as you see it, Mister Langlie! Not being in a position to negotiate, it'll be up to me to make quick restitution, before we sail on tomorrow's tide, does the wind suit. That'll be above and beyond the sum for damages asked for the damned tree and shrubbery, and a deep bite out of my purse and ready funds! In recompense for which, I'll expect the gunroom and the cockpit, and every Man Jack cited in your reports, to whip out 'chink'! Just imagine what your share o' that'll be, Mister Langlie, before you call it 'piddling.'"
"Aye, sir. Sorry," Langlie muttered, hang-dog and meek.
"For all those reasons, Mister Langlie, Captain Treghues is now utterly convinced of our entire squadron's irredeemable depravity, in general, and Proteus filled with Satan's Spawn, in the specific! We have, to quote that worthy, directly," Lewrie sarcastically said, referring to the note, " 'smutted the good name of the Royal Navy, cast a stain upon the repute of every ship involved, and by your libidinous and drunken conduct besmirched mine own escutcheon with Admiralty'… to wit, Mister Langlie, we've shat on his copy-book, and will now have to pay the piper."
"How so, sir?" Langlie was forced to enquire, frowning more.
"The usual practice is to escort 'John Company' trades beyond Saint Helena or Cape Town with a pair of seventy-fours, perhaps with a seventy-four and a single frigate, depending on how strong the French squadrons out of Reunion and Mauritius, are reputed to be," Lewrie said with what might uncharitably be deemed a groan. "Now, though, Captain Treghues is of a mind that only a long, depriving sea voyage, a total ban on even shipboard liberty, and lashings of discipline will restore the ships of this squadron to the paths of the righteous. And, there was no pun intended."
Of course, he left out the juicy part wherein Treghues had taken him personally to task for associating with a nigh-naked circus person and actress… a Lilith, a Jezebel, a corrupting Delilah! What was he, a Captain of Less than Three Years' Seniority even so, a Commission Sea Officer of their King, and supposedly a married man, and the father of three innocent babes, doing in company with such a jade, and cavorting so publicly before common seamen, to boot, to the detriment of sailors' morals, the dignity of officers, and respect for English gentlemen, and et cetera and et cetera?