Read Online A Brig of War by Richard Woodman - Free Book Online

interest, aware that Rogers had neglected to overhaul the topgallant buntlines which were taut and probably chafing. ‘And who might that be?’
    â€˜Lieutenant Morris.’
    Drinkwater froze. Slowly he turned and fixed Dalziell with a frigid stare.
    â€˜And what of that, Mr Dalziell?’
    Suddenly it occurred to Dalziell that he might be mistaken in securing an advantage over the first lieutenant so soon after the tribunal. He realised Mr Drinkwater would not cringe from mere innuendo, nor could he employ the crudities that had upset Quilhampton. ‘Oh, n . . . nothing sir.’
    â€˜Then get below and compose your essay.’ Drinkwater turned away and fell to pacing the deck, forgetting about the topgallantbuntlines. He hated the precocity of Dalziell and his ilk. The day was ruined for him, the whole voyage of the
Hellebore
poisoned by Dalziell, a living reminder of the horrors of the frigate
Cyclops
and Morris, the sodomite tyrant of the midshipman’s mess. Many years before, during the American war, Drinkwater had been instrumental in having Morris turned out of the frigate. Morris was lucky to have escaped with his life: an Article of War punished his crime with the noose. Now a drunken threat, uttered by Morris before he left the frigate, was recalled to mind. It seemed Morris had kept in touch with his career, might have been behind Dungarth’s request that Dalziell be found a place, though it was certain the earl knew nothing of it. Something about Dalziell’s demeanour seemed to confirm this suspicion. For half an hour Drinkwater paced furiously from the poop ladder to the mainmast and back. His mind was filled with dark and irrational fears, fears for Elizabeth and her unborn child far behind in England, for long ago Morris had discovered his love for her and had threatened her. Gradually he calmed himself, forced his mind into a more logical track. Despite the influence he once appeared to wield at the Admiralty through the carnal talents of his sister, he had risen no further than lieutenant and many years had passed since that encounter in New York. Perhaps, whatever Dalziell knew of the events aboard
Cyclops
, it would be no more than that he and Morris were enemies. Surely Morris would have concealed the reason for their enmity. Strange that he had planted in the midshipman’s mind the notion that Drinkwater indulged in the practices that had come close to breaking Morris himself. Or perhaps it was not so strange. Evil was rightly represented as a serpent and the twists of the human mind to justify its most outrageous conduct were, when viewed objectively, almost past belief.
    Nevertheless, two hours passed before Drinkwater remembered the topgallant buntlines. He found Mr Quilhampton had already attended to them.

Chapter Five
The
Mistress Shore
September–October 1798
    The following morning Drinkwater found a moment to study the literary efforts of the two midshipmen. It was clear that Mr Dalziell’s essay had suffered from being written after that by Mr Quilhampton. True the penmanship was neater and better formed than the awkward, blotchy script of Mr Q, but the information contained in the composition was a crib from Falconer’s
Marine Dictionary
with a few embellishments in what Mr Dalziell clearly considered was literary style.
    . . . 
And so the Brig-Sloop, so named to indicate that she was commanded by a Commander or Sloop-Captain, as opposed to a Gun-Brig, merely the command of a Lieutenant, arrived to take its place in the lists of the Fleet and perform the duties of a small Cruizer to the no small satisfaction of Admiralty
 . . . Was there a sneer within the lengthy sentence? Or was Drinkwater unduly prejudiced? Certainly there was little information.
    By contrast Mr Quilhampton’s erratic, speckled contribution, untidy though it was, demonstrated his enthusiasm.
    . . . 
The naval Brig was developed from