'GANS AT SEA cont'd...

by Lucille Deux'scoupage

A young Officer approached Farthing and Dickinson from the salon. He was rigid in the stance of someone who had had too much to drink, "Ssir Richard. Doctor Dickinson... Tomorrow we sail!"

"Early Lieutenant," replied Dickinson, "I'd advise temperance."

"Indeed," weaved the Lieutenant, "I'm as temperant as can be... I have prepared myself well and look forward to it." As an aside he added, "This venue is rife with pickings. I may have to set course for Concubine..."

Sir Richard's patience was wearing thin. As the day of departure approached, he had wished that they should just go. Simply put, their efficiency had to some degree worked against them as an early departure no doubt would have benefitted. Society however, must recognize their heroes, or at least their investment in them and all contractual obligations must be met. It served also to distract some members of his crew and he was none too pleased, "I am glad to have a Second of your ability sir," he addressed the Lieutenant directly, "and your preparedness has been noted. But if you will excuse me I must make my apologies for there are still many things to which I must attend."

"Very well Sir."

"We shall see you in the morning," added the Doctor.

"Have a good evening," continued the Lieutenant, as was his yet to be identified habit of always having the last word.

"Thank you. Now if I may..."

"Of course."

"Thank you." Sir Richard took his leave.

"My pleasure."

Lieutenant Enoch Caudal stood with the Doctor for a few moments and watched as Sir Richard made his way through the crowd. Dickinson thought that he had heard Caudal sigh, as a love-sick adolescent might. He dicided to ignore it and focused instead on what the Vice Admiral's booming voice had to say, "... and so I informed the young officer that the business end of one's musket should always be pointed away!" Dickinson shook his head in recognition - how many times had he heard that story?

"I shall miss sport most of all..." slurred Lt Caudel, breaking the Doctor's train of thought.

"I'm sorry?"

"Sport. I shall miss it."

"Then..." the Dickinson realized that not all aspects of the journey were finalized, "it shall be up to you to organize some athletics. Yes, regular exercise shall be paramount over the long winter months. I'm glad that you have reminded me."

Caudal stared blankly for a moment. "Yes. I shall organize a tourney of sorts..." He seemed dejected in this new addition to his responsibilities.