STO'B 8

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Down in the Badger's cabin, Philip opened the skylight to disperse the fug and surveyed his domain. "God, It's empty," he said, stooped over to avoid hitting his head on the beams. "Somer must have taken everything with him except for this chair and the cot." He collected the papers from the chair and dragged it over to the cot, spreading the papers on the cot and sitting on the chair to go through them. Yes, just as the lieutenant said, dispatches and orders. He broke the seal on the orders and unfolded the cover.

He skipped over the formulaic opening, only observing that the tone was friendlier than the orders that had reached him on the quarterdeck, and jumped to the heart of the matter: he, commanding the Badger, was to take the dispatches and mails that arrived with the order and carry them with all due speed, but not endangering masts, machinery, etc, to or about 36° N, 14° E, there to meet Admiral XXX of the XXX squadron and deliver up to him the same. The orders were dated from the second. Today was the fourth. If there was anything that required speed, they were dispatches, and he was two days behind.

Very well. He was late, but the Badger was fast; he could pack on steam and make up the time. He had the dispatches - they were on the cot where he had placed them. And the sacks of mail? Yes, they lay huddled in the corner by the bulkhead.

A change in the Badger's motion told him that they were free of the harbor, and a moment later a ship's boy came scurrying in. "Mr Grey's compliments, sir, and what course should he set?"

"What course? Oh, certainly." He looked about the cabin for a clue - a map, perhaps. "There are maps in the Master's cabin, yes?

"Oh, yes, sir," said the boy, "plenty of maps. And the one for the Mediterranean is spread out on the table, with our position marked on it every day by Mr South. Captain Somer would lead us through the maps every day. Will you be leading us through the maps, sir?. I can recite the points of the compass, too, sir, would you like to hear me? First there's north, then..." the boy ran on and on, scarcely taking breath.

The boy's discourse gave Philip time to think, however. Their position was marked on a table in the Master's cabin - his day cabin, most likely - and on the same map he should be able to find 36° N, 14° E, which he had a vague notion as being in the Mediterranean. All he had to do was point the ship in the appropriate direction. He began to feel that he could handle the situation, and he became aware of an expectant pause. The boy had finished reciting the points of the compass, and waited for approval. "Very good, Mr...?"

"Thank you, sir," said the boy, who continued to stand there, the lieutenant's request for direction apparently forgotten.

"Very good," said Philip again, and he herded the boy out of the cabin, following him out.

In the Master's day cabin he found the Mediterranean map laid out, with the sloop's position neatly marked with a pin. 36° N, 14° E lay to the east, near Malta, and armed with this knowledge, he mounted the quarterdeck.

"Mr Grey, lay in a course to the east, please," he said, as impressively as he could. "And fire up the boiler, we'll take this journey under steam."

Mr Grey nodded, saluted, repeated the order, then paused. "Begging your pardon, sir, but we're about out of coal."

"What have you been doing while lying there in harbor?" cried Philip. "The first thing you do on entering harbor is refit the ship, lieutenant, surely you know that? You've been here two days. This is very bad; we'll be late, late with dispatches. With dispatches," he repeated. He took a breath. "Well, set a course for the east as best you can, we're heading to Malta. Near Malta," he added, not wanting to suggest that they'd actually be going ashore. "And don't you wish the wind may serve and get us there in time."

"Yes, sir," said the lieutenant, looking flushed. He turned and issued several orders, naming any number of sails to be set, the crew jumped to do his bidding, and soon the Badger was making a steady six knots before a quartering wind.

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