21: The Final Unfinished Voyage of Jack Aubrey by Patrick O’Brian Page A

us at least have a preliminary cup, and then we can ask Harding to join us.” Some moments later he touched the bell, and said to Killick, “ Ask Mr Harding to walk in. Mr Harding, pray sit down - may I pour you a cup of coffee? Now you know very well that Surprise and Ringle are to return to Portsmouth with all possible speed to deliver a certain number of officers to the Commander-in- Chief, together with the Doctor’ s communications and my dispatches. You may find it possible to shape your course without any impropriety so that you touch at Shelmerston before heading for Plymouth. If it is feasible, you, a firm-natured married man, will post straight to Woolcombe and there hand this letter to my wife and this to Mrs Wood, her near neighbour. Our hope, do you see, is to convey both ladies, together with Mrs Wood’ s brother, the three children and the strict minimum of attendants to the Cape, either catching the squadron before it leaves the River Plate or joining company during the voyage - they will almost certainly water at Saint Helena - or simply at the Cape itself. Now you know both vessels through and through; and you know more than I do about children, attendants and the married state. When you have heard the ladies express their views on baggage and on these points you will form an opinion on the irreducible minimum and choose your conveyance accordingly. Ringle is undoubtedly faster than Surprise, but I should not like to have her pas s engers unduly cramped - given a disgust of the se a - for the sake of a few days.”
    “ Two ladies, one gentleman, three children, and I suppose three or four maids and a man.”
    “ It does of course depend on whether the gentleman chooses to come,” observed Jack. “ Mr Harding, you will read these letters if you please: they are in no way confidenti al.”
    “ I make no doub t that the gentleman will come,” said Stephen.
    Harding, a poised middle-aged lieutenant, read the letters with attention. The others watched him. “Well, sir,” he said at last, “ Well, gentlemen: I am of opinion that Ringle is the right choice. I was perpetually easing my sheet when she was in company with Surprise, though indeed there are few faster frigates. The passengers will not lie altogether at their ease, to be sure, but they will have the delight of seeing the bow-wave flung wide to leeward and the wake racing away, everything alive and tearing through the water. They would be dull souls that did not love that: and if I may be so bold, Miss Brigid loved it purely last time she was afloat in a blow. Anyhow, you would want Ringle as a tender, sir.”
    “ Very true: so you think all th ese people could be crammed in?”
    “ I should take my davy on it, sir.”
    “ Very well. You can sail with Surprise, then; and she will deliver my officers, passengers and despatches at Portsmouth, then run down to be laid up in Sepping’ s yard, while you return with your passengers in Ringle. ”
    “Very good, sir,” said Harding, folding the letters away in his bosom. “ So now, since the gentlemen for Portsmouth are already aboard Surprise, I shall ask permission to take my leave and wish you and Suffolk a happy, prosperous voyage. And Doctor, how I hope you and your mate may b ag a brace or two of phoenixes.”
    They shook hands and parted. “There is a fine fellow,” said Jack. “ He can sail the schooner very, very hard indeed: it was the right choice. But I think he was not mistaken when he said they woul d not always lie at their ease.”
    “ It would be ill-natured on my part to suggest that he might be influenced by the certainty, under Providence, of coming back to your blue squadron and acting as tender to the imposing great Suffolk under your command: I shall not say it however, although my lower being does feel exceptionally bad-tempered today. Jack, with your idea you have wholly forestalled me. You spoke of a notion worthy of Newton, but you did not elaborate: and I was