"Without a boat, sir?" Bales smirked. "And no hand willing to aid you? I say you'll not, sir," he chuckled, his eyes crinkled with mocking mirth. "If I have to lay hands on you, sir. If I have to put a gun to your head… again, I'll run that risk."
"What do you have against me, Bales?" Lewrie demanded, feeling trapped again, powerless and utterly frustrated. "You've acted as if this was a personal grudge 'twixt us since you rose up to capture the ship! Did we ever serve together? Did I ever do you or yours a bad turn?"
"Don't know what you mean, sir," Bales taunted, grinning wider. "Rose up 'gainst tyrants, sir, same as the others. Now do you wish to think it's personal 'cause you can't feature your 'faithful' sailors turning on you… or you're growing fearful at last, well… that is your problem, sir. Are you becoming a bit fearful, sir?"
Damned right I am, Lewrie queasily thought; but I'll not give him the satisfaction!
"Oh, don't keep lying to me, Bales. You must've served under me. On Ariadne, back in '80, the both of us, under poor old Captain Bales. That's where you found your present name, isn't it! Joined the Navy again, under his name, 'cause your own was too well…"
"Never heard of him, sir," Bales intoned deadpan. "Never was on a ship named Ariadne either," he swore, then turned away to regain the crew's attention and dismissing Lewrie's presence. "Last now, lads! What we agreed to! Who among the officers does the Captain's chiefest bidding? Who worked us harder than the Israelites in Egypt? Harder'n Cuffy slaves cutting sugar cane in the Indies? The Second Officer Mister Langlie, wasn't it? Mister Ludlow's too cup-shot most of the time, to work us… just abuse us!… but Mister Langlie did, so… off the ship with him!"
"Oh, I say… dammit," Langlie gaped, astonished to be tarred as black as Ludlow. "What utter rot!"
"Didn't none o' us vote fer that!" Landsman Furfy complained in a loud voice, speaking for a majority of the hands, who were as astonished by that pronouncement as Lt. Langlie was.
"Damme, don't ya trust yer committeemen, mates?" Mr. Handcocks bellowed. "We'll see ya right, you can count on it!"
"Why would they wish me ashore, sir?" Langlie fretted as hands fell to at lashing up Lt. Ludlow's chests. "What'd / ever…?"
"Side-party!" Bales hooted. "See the tyrants off with proper honours at least, hey, lads?"
"Damme, I'm no Tartar, no plantation flogger, sir!" Lt. Langlie said, pressed close to Lewrie by the sailors coming to tote the expelled officers' chests. " Ludlow and Peacham I can understand, and good riddance to bad rubbish, frankly, but…" he whispered derisively.
In spite of being out-schemed once more by Bales's latest blow to his covert plan, Lewrie allowed himself a frisson of relief that Peacham and Ludlow would be gone.
Outwardly though, he gave Lt. Langlie a tiny shrug of agreement, a wee moue of disgust. "Because they wish to strip Proteus of any officer the hands like, Mister Langlie." He spat. "Anyone with courage or wits or bottom, who the people'd listen to, bring them back 'round, and retake the ship."
"Ah." Langlie winced for a moment. "I think I see what you mean, sir. Me… Lieutenant Devereux… a compliment really. Sort of."
"No matter," Lewrie cut him off, his mind awhirl to rebuild the shambles of his schemes-and suddenly, chillingly aware of just what sort of lies or half-truths the truculent Lt. Ludlow and his creature, Midshipman; Peacham, might impart ashore-to their own advantage, to his detriment! "Look, we've no time to write a report, why it seems that I'm disobeying orders to quit her, but I am held against my will… I still have hopes of retaking the ship and will try to parlay becoming hostages into something useful…"
"Well, of course, sir," Langlie nodded, encouraging him.
"You must give the authorities a true accounting, Mister Langlie," Lewrie bade him in a fierce whisper of his own. "You know all of the ringleaders, who to accuse… that most of the crew's wavering, more than a minority loyal…!" he rushed out, pressed to furious urgency to say a half-hour's piece in a single minute. "… state of rations, how long they could hold out. Names of the dead…"
"B'lieve I know what needs telling, sir," Langlie assured him with a firm, determined expression, "to bring our nastiest villains to book… where the real infamy lies."
"No matter Lieutenant Ludlow is senior to you and his place to make the report, it's vital…" Lewrie sped on, stifling the urge to beg as he dropped his carronade-sized hint.
"Rest assured, Captain Lewrie," Lt. Langlie said, coming over all noble, "I'll speak of everything infamous aboard Proteus. Everyone," he added, with a significantly arched brow.
Thank bloody Christ! Lewrie thought; ah-t'other thing.-…/
"Do you come across some leery sorts, Mister Langlie," Lewrie rushed out, as if Langlie's assurances that he'd cover his arse for him were neither here nor there, "some civilians who have no business in this, but do? They'll be government agents… spies… same ones who smuggled the Pardon and the Acts of Parliament aboard in the bumboats… ask for one going by the name of Willis… I think he's working for a fellow I've met before. He'll understand. Tell him I've determined our rebellion is homegrown… mostly! But I fear there are some of a more dangerous stripe exploiting it for their own ends. Turning it political. Didn't begin it I don't think, but…" Lewrie stammered in his haste to get it all said.
"Soon as I alight, sir," Langlie declared, offering his hand to be clasped right-manly. "And I'll pray most strenuously for your safety and your success with the hands, sir. I trust I'll serve under you again, sir… be proud to. Aboard a free, un-tainted Proteus."
"Thankee, Mister Langlie, and I'm certain you will," Lewrie said at last, realising there was nothing more he could do or say. He took Langlie's hand and gave it a welcome shake. "Pray I see you too, sir… coming o'er the lip of the entry-port to reclaim your place as her first…"
Oops! he grimaced; what sort o' slip is that? Hmm… useful!
"My pardons, Mister Langlie," Lewrie all but managed to blush. "A thing devoutly to be wished perhaps… but best left unsaid. It'd be disloyal to Mister Ludlow… no matter his temperament…" And he attained a gruff sadness for his last, abashed "… poor old fellow."
"Thank you, Captain, er… I say, thank you!" Langlie croaked, bedazzled by the possibility of being so honoured, to even accidentally be offered the post of First Lieutenant as a mark of his captain's esteem.
I swear Ican hear the wheels turnin', Lewrie told himself; see puffs o' smoke from out his ears! Hooked, gaffed… and landed!
Langlie finally let go Lewrie's hand and stepped back a respectful distance so he could doff his hat in a parting salute, before following his sea chest up to the gangway to take his place in the pecking-order of seniority decreed for the departure of officers. Lewrie was quite pleased to note how many sailors came up to Langlie, how many of the marines approached Lt. Devereux, to share a few last kind words… assurances that they weren't died-in-the-wool rebels too, but…
You devious… shit! Lewrie chid himself; watching them depart. With Langlie as First Officer instead of Ludlow, would I have even had a mutiny aboard? Now if Langlie truly is ambitious, his account would expose Ludlow 's insubordination… Hell, he needed turnin' out, him and Peacham both! Notjust for this ship, but for the entire Navy! Couch my final report the right way, and I'll purge 'em as good as Spithead ships cleaned out their gunrooms!