An Eye of the Fleet by Richard Woodman Page B

Morris had assaulted him. Hitherto he had lain low in the hope that by effacing himself Morris would leave him alone. But Morris could not do that . . .
    The thing that he knew about Morris he devoutly wished he did not know. It was so disgusting that the very image of it, so vivid in his impressionable mind, was abominable to him.
    Drinkwater was terrified of what he had seen almost more than of those who had been doing it. In that terror was submerged the realisation of the power he had over Morris. In Morris’s aggression all Drinkwater saw was brutality. He failed to perceive the brutality masked fear. He saw nothing of thesource, only the source’s manifestation.
    He was suddenly aware of someone alongside of him.
    â€˜H-h’m.’ A voice coughed apologetically.
    Drinkwater nervously began to move away.
    â€˜Beg pardon, zur . . .’
    â€˜Yes?’
    â€˜I saw what ’appened, zur. I saw ’im ’it ’ee . . . if you’m be wantin’ a witness, zur.’
    â€˜No, Tregembo, thank you,’ Drinkwater paused. He remembered that conversation with Tregembo in the Mediterranean. A brief memory of Humphries flashed in his brain, of Sharples and Threddle, and of the flogging Tregembo had received. Drinkwater looked hard at Tregembo . . . the seaman expected Drinkwater to thrash Morris, Tregembo would otherwise see Drinkwater as a coward . . .
    Drinkwater suddenly recalled the moment when fear had left him not an hour earlier. A bold feeling swept over him. He could no longer suffer Morris’s tyranny and determined to challenge his senior. It was a desperate throw but in such circumstances resolves are easily made, though less easily carried out. He forced a grim note into his voice. ‘No Tregembo, this is a cockpit matter, as you said. I’ll thank you to hold your tongue . . .’
    The man backed away disappointed. He had mistimed his assistance to the young gentleman. Having conceived a respect for the midshipman, Tregembo had assumed that he sought a legitimate means to encompass the destruction of Morris. Tregembo remembered the twenty-ninth Article of War, if ever one man held the other in the palm of his hand Drinkwater held sway over Morris. Tregembo was puzzled. He had ‘taken’ to the youth and could not understand why some attack had not been made on Morris as he had seen many of the youngsters carry out from time to time on various ships. Tregembo was too blunt to be aware of Drinkwater’s sensibilities just as Drinkwater was unaware that Morris’s bullying concealed a pusillanimous soul, a fact that was very plain to Tregembo.
    In the first glimmer of dawn Drinkwater saw the topman’s crestfallen retreat.
    â€˜Tregembo!’
    â€˜Zur?’ The man hesitated.
    â€˜Quietly have a word with one of the carpenter’s mates toget two ash single sticks made up. Each thirty inches long, d’you understand?’
    â€˜Aye zur. And thank’ee.’
    Drinkwater had not the slightest idea why Tregembo had thanked him but suddenly the rain fell sweet upon his upturned face.
    The news of
Cyclops
’s prize and the promise of allowing visitors on board made her the happiest vessel in the anchorage. Before the morning watch was over the hands, uncommonly cheerful, had swabbed her decks and flaked and coiled all the ropes. When Devaux appeared the brasswork already gleamed in a watery sunshine that promised a fair day after the dawn’s wet beginning.
    The men were already staring across the leaden water to Fort Gilkicker and Portsmouth Harbour. For days past hired punts and galleys had brought out women and children. Many were full of whores but there had been some with wives of both the churched and common law variety. They had made a forlorn sight, lying just clear of the ship’s sides, exchanging unhappy waves or little snatches of conversation with the sailors