'I do assure you, Captain . . .' Joan began.
'As for you,' roared the Captain. 'I'll have your arse raw, by Gad. I'll have your arse raw.'
'Captain, Captain,' remonstrated the mate, holding his shoulder. 'You'll have a seizure.' He peered into the boat. 'Mr Hilton? Oh, my God. Fetch the captain,' he shouted. 'Fetch the captain.'
Dick sat up. He wondered the sky did not fall and send the entire ship, and her company, to the bottom.
'My sword,' bawled Lanken. 'Hold him there, bo'sun. Hold him there. By God, I'll have at him.'
'Now really, sir,' said the boatswain, grinning at Dick and winking. 'It's a matter for the captain. He'll not have violence on board his ship.'
'Violence,' bellowed Lanken. 'Violence. I'll show you violence.'
'Dick?' Tony peered over Lanken's shoulder. 'Whatever are you at?' He waggled his eyebrows and pulled a face, and Dick decided that he was suggesting only one should shoulder the blame.
'Now, then, what's all this?' demanded Captain Morrison. 'Mr Hilton? My God. What have you to say for yourself?' 'Why, I . . .'
'We were on deck,' Joan Lanken explained. 'Answering a call of nature . . .'
'Together?' inquired the mate, and raised a roar of laughter from the crew, who by now had accumulated to see the fun.
'Well,' she said, 'it was cold . .
'Cold, madam?' bawled her husband. 'Cold? And you in your shift?'
'You come out of there, Mr Hilton,' Morrison decided. 'Captain Lanken, you'd best see to your wife.'
'See to her? Why, I'll see to her. After I've settled this young fellow.'
He made a grab at Dick, as Dick attempted to get out of the boat.
'Aaaagh,' screamed Mistress Marjoribanks, having joined the throng. 'Murder.'
'Murder,' yelled Tony. 'Stop him.'
Dick had already pushed his assailant in the chest, and sent him reeling across the deck, where he came to rest against Dr Collie.
'You'd best to my cabin, Mr Hilton,' Captain Morrison decided. 'He'll not follow you there. But really, young fellow, this is bad. Very bad.'
'You'll not shelter him,' bawled Lanken. 'I'm entitled to an accounting. Yes, sir.'
Morrison hesitated, biting his Up.
'The man's right,' muttered one of the crew. 'To be cuckolded, in public'
'I do assure you,' Dick began.
'Murder,' screamed Mistress Marjoribanks.
'It will be murder,' Joan cried. 'The young man can have no such knowledge of weapons as my husband.'
‘
Never handled a sword in his life,' Tony declared.
'Weapons?' Captain Morrison asked at large. 'My God.'
'A duel,' Lanken shouted. 'Aye, there's the answer. Let him stand up like a man, as he is so anxious to prove himself one.'
'Aye,' chorused the crew, seeking entertainment. 'A duel. 'Tis fitting, Captain.'
Morrison glanced from one to the other of the passengers.
' Tis illegal,' he said.
'By England's laws, Captain,' remarked Master Rowland. 'At sea, there's a different matter.'
'Bloodshed,' muttered Captain Morrison. 'On board my ship?'
'There'll be little blood,' Lanken promised. 'I'll just tickle him a little.'
'Oh, God,' Joan whispered, kneeling in the bottom of the boat, her shoulder pressed against Dick's. 'He'll slit your nose. That's what he'll do.'
Dick felt his stomach rolling over and rising into his throat. I didn't do anything, he wanted to wail. We had no more than a cuddle. But they wouldn't believe him, and he could not bring himself to beg.
'Well, Captain, well?' demanded Lanken.
'Give the man his right,' called the crew. 'He has his right.'
'Mr Hilton?'
Dick licked his lips. 'If the captain insists.'
'Insists?' Lanken bellowed. 'Insists? Let me at him, Captain. Let me at him.'
'Swords,' decided the mate. 'There's less risk of a fatality. And he will have his blood. He deserves his blood.'
'Swords?' Tony cried. 'We have no swords.'
'We have,' said the mate.
Captain Morrison sighed. 'Sorry, I am, Mr Hilton. But it'll be the only way to have peace, and we've another fortnight at sea, at best. You've brought it on yourself.'
'Swords?' Dick muttered. Sweat broke out on his neck. He had never even touched a sword, much less handled one.
'But it'll be done proper,' the captain decided. 'Daybreak. Aye, there's an hour or two, for tempers to cool. Daybreak. Back to your bunks. Everyone settle. Daybreak. Captain Lanken, you'll practise no violence, upon either this young man or your wife. You'll have your satisfaction at dawn. Understood?'
Lanken glared at Dick. 'Oh, aye. I can wait. But you'll accompany me, madam.'
Joan hesitated, then crawled out of the boat. 'You heard the captain.'
'I'll not lay a finger on your flesh, in anger,' he promised. 'Not until we're to land, anyway.'
'Here's a problem.' Tony leaned against the boat.
'A problem?' Dick cried. 'Where the devil were you?'
'Well, I slipped off for a pee, to say truth,' Tony confessed. 'And when I turned round, there the rascal was.'
'And you could not engage him in conversation? Anything?'
'He'd not have moved. He was already sure where you were, and what you were up to.'
'I wasn't up to anything,' Dick said.
'True? There's ill luck. You'll not even have the memory. But what's to be done, eh? Mama didn't send me along to have you killed.'
'Killed?' Dick looked at his hands. They were dripping wet. And his heart had stopped pounding, seemed to have sunk down to rest on his belly. My God, he thought. I am frightened. It had never occurred to him before. He had never been frightened before. Even the time he had been set upon by footpads, he had not been afraid. He had reacted instinctively, swung his stick and his fists, defended himself so well that they had taken to their heels.
'There's always the possibility,' Tony said. 'On a ship, especially. A lurch of the deck, and zing, you've a blade in your gut.'
'Do you think he's any good?'
'He's a soldier. He'll have been trained.'
'Oh, my God,' Dick said.
'Aye,' Tony said, thoughtfully. 'But He helps those that help themselves, they say. Listen. You sit down quietly for the next hour. It only wants that for daylight. And you may need all your strength.'
Dick blinked at him. He could not stop his mind repeating, over and over again: I'm going to be killed. My God. I'm going to be killed.
Tony had turned away. Now he checked. 'Oh, by the way, do you have any money?' 'Money?'
'Mama gave you sufficient coin to see us the voyage,' Tony said patiently. 'Any left?' 'Of course. But what . . .' 'Don't argue. Give me a guinea of it.' 'A guinea? Whatever for?'
'Mind your own business. It's in a very good cause.'
'It will leave us short.' Dick unbuckled his belt; the coin was carried in a pouch on the inside, next to his skin.
'We'll be shorter yet if you're chucked over the side in a hammock,' Tony pointed out. He held the coin to the light, nodded. 'Now do as I say. Sit there, and rest.'
Dick watched him disappear into the companionway, then sat down on the deck, his back against the gunwale. Oh, my God, he thought. But clearly he was suffering immediate and absolute punishment from that very source, for breaking his word to Ellen. Well, for attempting to break his word. If they hadn't been interrupted, he would certainly
...
he could still feel the touch of her, the hardness of her nipples. God Almighty, how he had wanted. He had been closing his eyes and imagining it was Ellen. And now . . .
'Well, young fellow. Ready?'
His head jerked. Captain Morrison stood above him, and it was already growing light. He must have dozed. Certainly some of his desire, as well as his fear, had receded. Although he could feel the fear at least, bubbling away in his belly. Would his hand tremble when he held the sword?
He got up. 'As ready as I'll ever be, Mr Morrison.'
The captain nodded. 'Aye, well, 'tis an unfortunate affair, I'll swear to that. Having a woman on board, at least when she's young and pretty, and willing, always leads to trouble. But a duel, now . . . why the old devil couldn't have just thrashed you . . . now mind, Mr Hilton, if he nicks you, go down, sir. Go down. If you lose your head, you're done.'
Dick nodded, wearily. 'Aye, Captain, I'll remember.'
'Come along then.' Morrison led him aft, to the space between the mainmast and the poop, where there was most room. The watch was already assembled, and now the watch below also arrived, whispering and grinning to each other. The passengers were gathered above, at the rail; but where was Tony?
'There's the scoundrel,' Lanken shouted. 'Let us to it, sir.'
'We'll do the thing properly, Mr Lanken,' Morrison insisted.
'And you, madam,' Lanken bawled at Mistress Marjoribanks, who stood next to Joan Lanken. 'Keep her there. Keep her watching. The lesson is as much for her as for this villain.'
Oh, how I wish you had attempted to thrash me, Dick thought. By God . . . but he was getting angry, and that was the one thing Captain Morrison had told him not to do.
Where was Tony?
'Now gentlemen,' Morrison said. 'Mr Ratchet?' The mate stepped forward, with two cutlasses. 'What's this?' demanded Lanken. 'Cutlasses? I'm no sailor. I've a sword of my own.'
'Do you have a sword, Mr Hilton?' Morrison inquired. 'Why, no,' Dick said. 'I've never owned such a thing.' 'Ha,' Lanken announced.
'You must both have the same weapons, Captain Lanken,' Ratchet explained.
'Ha,' Lanken said again. He took one of the cutlasses, swished it to and fro, extended his arm, the weapon held lightly in his fingers. 'It will do.'
'Mr Hilton?'
Dick tried to copy the movements, watched Lanken smile.
‘It
seems to be all right.'
'Well, then, gentlemen,' Captain Morrison said. 'First blood. No more than that. Mr Ratchet?'
The mate presented a pistol.
'I'll drop the man who continues when I have ca
lled stop,' Morrison said. 'Now
, gentlemen . . .'
'You'll wait a moment, Captain Morrison.'
'Eh?' They turned to face the companionway, and Collie, now emerging from the hatchway, with Tony Hilton at his heels. 'Wait for what, doctor?'
'You'll not permit a duel without a medical examination,' Collie said.
'Medical examination? Why, six . . .'
'Never heard of such a thing,' Lanken declared.
'Then, sir,' Collie remarked, with quite unusual aggressiveness, 'you are clearly unused to fighting gentlemen. I'll begin with you, sir.'
'Eh? Eh?'
'Mouth wide.' Collie peered inside, blinked. 'Hm. Your wrist, sir.' He held Lanken's pulse, consulted his watch. 'Hm.' He placed two fingers on Lanken's chest, commenced tapping. 'Hm. You'll bend, sir, forward from the waist.'
'Of all the damned nonsense,' Lanken grumbled, but he did as he was told.
'Hm,' Collie said. 'I've known men in better condition, Mr Lanken, but you'll do.'
'Gad, sir,' shouted the captain. 'Of course I'll do.'
'Now, you, Mr Hilton,' Collie said, his face severely composed. 'Mouth wide.'
Dick obeyed, feeling the fear starting to rise. Five minutes ago, he had been prepared to have at his opponent, vigorously, and take his chance. But this delay . . . whatever was Tony playing at? Because that Tony was behind this he could not doubt.
'Hm,' Collie said. 'Hm.' He was frowning. 'Your wrist, sir.'
The fingers closed on Dick's wrist, and Collie peered at his watch.
'Hm. Lower your head, sir.' Dick bowed, and Collie felt behind his ears. 'Hm. Dear me. Oh, dear, dear me. I am afraid this duel cannot take place, Captain Morrison.' 'Eh?'