A Brig of War by Richard Woodman Read Free Book Online Page B

since he had had to be relieved on deck by Trussel and was anxious about observing the meridian altitude of the sun at noon. Appleby was splendidly portentous but, for the moment, silent.
    ‘Lieutenant Rogers,’ Drinkwater inclined his head to the second lieutenant sitting opposite with one leg dangling over the arm of his chair, contemptuously examining his nails, ‘is in the nature of the accusing officer.’ He raised his voice, ‘Mr Q!’
    The door opened. ‘Sir?’
    ‘Pass word for Mr Dalziell and then have Tregembo wait outside to be called.’
    ‘Aye, aye, sir,’ replied the boy casting a frightened look round the interior of the gunroom which had changed its normal prefectural atmosphere to one of chilly formality. Dalziell knocked and entered. He had not had the sense to put on full uniform.
    ‘Now Mr Dalziell, this is an inquiry to establish the facts of the incident that occurred this morning
    ‘ Drinkwater went laboriously through the formal process and listened to Dalziell’s carefully stated account.
    He had gone forward on the rounds that were performed by either a master’s mate or a midshipman at hourly intervals. He had found the man Tregembo asleep under the fo’c’s’le with his legs obstructing the ladder and had stumbled over them. The man had woken and there had been an exchange. As a consequence Dalziell had ordered him below. There had been a further exchange after which Dalziell had brought Tregembo aft to the officer of the watch. ‘And Lieutenant Rogers said he would see the man flogged for his insolence, sir.’ It was all very plausible, almost too plausible, and the malice in that last sentence set a query against the whole.
    They called Tregembo. ‘What did you say to Mr Dalziell when he stumbled against you?’ asked Drinkwater, careful to keep his voice and expression rigidly formal.
    Tregembo shrugged. ‘I’d been awakened zur, I thought it was one of my mates,’ he growled.
    ‘Were you abusive?’ butted in Lestock, ‘come man, we want the truth.’
    Tregembo shot a glance at Drinkwater. ‘Happen I was short with him, zur,’ he conceded but repeated, ‘I thought it was one of my mates, zur
    I didn’t know it was Mr Dalziell, zur.’
    ‘A storm in a tea cup,’ muttered Appleby and Rogers flushed. Drinkwater was tempted to leave the matter there, but Lestock persisted to fuss.
    ‘What exactly did you say, man?’ he asked testily.
    Drinkwater sighed, both Rogers and Dalziell were only holding their peace with difficulty. ‘Come Tregembo,’ he said resignedly, ‘what did you say?’
    Tregembo frowned. He knew Drinkwater could not protect him and his head came forward belligerently. ‘Why zur, what I’d say to a messmate, that he was a clumsy fucker
    zur.’
    Drinkwater stifled a grin and he saw both Dalziell and Rogers relax, as though their case was proved.
    ‘That seems to be clear abuse,’ said Lestock and Drinkwater suddenly felt angry about the whole stupid business. Without Lestock’s tactless interjections he might have ended it then and there, but he now had to take the offensive.
    ‘Now think carefully, Tregembo. What was then said to you? Remember we want the truth, as Mr Lestock says.’ Tregembo looked at Dalziell, opening his mouth then closing it again before he caught the intense expression in Drinkwater’s eyes. He had known the lieutenant long enough to take encouragement from it.
    ‘He called me an insolent whoreson bastard, zur, and told me to get my pox-ridden arse below decks where it belonged.’
    Drinkwater swung his glance swiftly to Dalziell. There was no denial from the midshipman, only a slight flushing of the cheeks. Dalziell blurted. ‘And he called me a cocky puppy, damn it!’
    ‘Silence, Mister!’ snapped Drinkwater. ‘Tregembo, do you mind your tongue in future when you address an officer.’ The two exchanged glances and Drinkwater dismissed him. He turned to his two colleagues, suddenly aware that he had closed the