the right conduct of war? You said that Aquinas had ruled that a soldier might still take part in unlawful war as long as he comported himself lawfully. I see your present difficulties in that same light.’
Again, the argument was not new to him. Indeed, Hervey had been the first to rehearse it. His appetite now seemed suddenly to leave him, and he pushed his plate to one side. ‘It is more than that. My daughter is without a mother. Would it be right for her to be without a father, too?’
Peto did not answer. These were waters in which he had nosailing experience and no right instinct, but he did have one more challenge for his friend, and he squared up to it direct. ‘Hervey, are you in any degree fearful of having lost some aptness for command?’
Hervey was stung more deeply than by anything in months. No one had ever suggested this or anything like it. Only Laughton Peto could have imagined such a thing; not even Daniel Coates could read him thus.
Peto did not press his question. Instead he said simply, ‘Such a thing would go ill with me, and would remain until next I had the chance to show otherwise. Isn’t that the way with men under orders? Those at least who take their profession seriously?’
It was the first time that Hervey had seen Peto let slip the mask of command. And that a man as proud as he should have done so was high testimony indeed to their mutual regard and friendship. Hervey simply breathed deep, and resolved on a different path to their discourse. ‘Let’s leave it for the morning. Tell me how was your journey. We ourselves are intending to visit Naples.’
‘Ha!’ exclaimed Peto, his voice rising above the waves again. ‘You’d do as well to take a ship. We were stopped interminably. Everywhere the talk was of Carbonari.’
‘You were stopped by Carbonari?’
‘No! By that ass Ferdinand’s troops – “King of the Two Sicilies” indeed! I can think nothing of a man who requires foreign troops lest his own people try to depose him.’
Hervey looked askance. There were precedents closer to home. ‘Had we not better have a care in France’s regard, therefore?’
‘Perhaps so. But at least theirs is a French king, and our troops are in barracks there. Ferdinand would not have a throne if it weren’t for Habsburg troops tramping the roads.’
‘I doubt that Bonaparte would have been worsted without the Austrians,’ tried Hervey.
‘ I don’t doubt it. But we didn’t fight one tyrant only to replace him with another.’
‘Well, I for one shall be pleased if it means we reach Naples without molestation by bandits, even if they do wear pretty ribbons,’ said Hervey most emphatically.
The cameriere had returned, and Peto was taking more of the veal, with appreciative noises. ‘By the way, how is your sister?’
Hervey smiled, pleased with the further evidence of Peto’s approval of the veal, and at the thought of happy reports to be made of Elizabeth. ‘She is very well. The country suits her, even if her heart is still at home. You shall see for yourself tomorrow.’
‘I look forward to it. And have you any other acquaintances in Rome? I heard English spoken all along the street.’
‘Indeed we have. The poet Shelley no less.’
Peto was all attention, but his eyes were narrowed. ‘An intriguing man, indeed; perhaps in both senses of the word. I have read some of his essays. His sentiment’s sound for much of it, but he goes altogether too far.’
Hervey smiled again. ‘I should not be able to share even your limited generosity. But he’s a great admirer of the Carbonari, and the most engaging of company off the page!’
And Elizabeth’s journal recorded that Peto found it just so in the days that followed. And an altogether more agreeable occupation it was for her to write than before. ‘They speak of martial things all the time. And even Mr Shelley seems much taken by it,’ she noted at the end of the first week. ‘I confess, too, there is much to
Again, the argument was not new to him. Indeed, Hervey had been the first to rehearse it. His appetite now seemed suddenly to leave him, and he pushed his plate to one side. ‘It is more than that. My daughter is without a mother. Would it be right for her to be without a father, too?’
Peto did not answer. These were waters in which he had nosailing experience and no right instinct, but he did have one more challenge for his friend, and he squared up to it direct. ‘Hervey, are you in any degree fearful of having lost some aptness for command?’
Hervey was stung more deeply than by anything in months. No one had ever suggested this or anything like it. Only Laughton Peto could have imagined such a thing; not even Daniel Coates could read him thus.
Peto did not press his question. Instead he said simply, ‘Such a thing would go ill with me, and would remain until next I had the chance to show otherwise. Isn’t that the way with men under orders? Those at least who take their profession seriously?’
It was the first time that Hervey had seen Peto let slip the mask of command. And that a man as proud as he should have done so was high testimony indeed to their mutual regard and friendship. Hervey simply breathed deep, and resolved on a different path to their discourse. ‘Let’s leave it for the morning. Tell me how was your journey. We ourselves are intending to visit Naples.’
‘Ha!’ exclaimed Peto, his voice rising above the waves again. ‘You’d do as well to take a ship. We were stopped interminably. Everywhere the talk was of Carbonari.’
‘You were stopped by Carbonari?’
‘No! By that ass Ferdinand’s troops – “King of the Two Sicilies” indeed! I can think nothing of a man who requires foreign troops lest his own people try to depose him.’
Hervey looked askance. There were precedents closer to home. ‘Had we not better have a care in France’s regard, therefore?’
‘Perhaps so. But at least theirs is a French king, and our troops are in barracks there. Ferdinand would not have a throne if it weren’t for Habsburg troops tramping the roads.’
‘I doubt that Bonaparte would have been worsted without the Austrians,’ tried Hervey.
‘ I don’t doubt it. But we didn’t fight one tyrant only to replace him with another.’
‘Well, I for one shall be pleased if it means we reach Naples without molestation by bandits, even if they do wear pretty ribbons,’ said Hervey most emphatically.
The cameriere had returned, and Peto was taking more of the veal, with appreciative noises. ‘By the way, how is your sister?’
Hervey smiled, pleased with the further evidence of Peto’s approval of the veal, and at the thought of happy reports to be made of Elizabeth. ‘She is very well. The country suits her, even if her heart is still at home. You shall see for yourself tomorrow.’
‘I look forward to it. And have you any other acquaintances in Rome? I heard English spoken all along the street.’
‘Indeed we have. The poet Shelley no less.’
Peto was all attention, but his eyes were narrowed. ‘An intriguing man, indeed; perhaps in both senses of the word. I have read some of his essays. His sentiment’s sound for much of it, but he goes altogether too far.’
Hervey smiled again. ‘I should not be able to share even your limited generosity. But he’s a great admirer of the Carbonari, and the most engaging of company off the page!’
And Elizabeth’s journal recorded that Peto found it just so in the days that followed. And an altogether more agreeable occupation it was for her to write than before. ‘They speak of martial things all the time. And even Mr Shelley seems much taken by it,’ she noted at the end of the first week. ‘I confess, too, there is much to
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