"A fine evening, eh, Mr Pullings?"
"Aye, sir,"
Jack smiled, draining the last of his Madeira. A ball at the Governor's could rarely have turned out better, everybody seemed in tearing spirits, and the orchestra was playing beautifully. Jack listened to the lively music and watched the couples dancing around him.
Nearly dropping his empty glass as Pullings pushed past him, lead, giggling, off to dance by the Governor's daughter, that lovely blonde haired creature. Lieutenant Pullings' nose and cheeks were so flushed, that if Jack was not much mistaken, he was not only very happy; but very drunk as well. Jack grinned at the thought of what keeping the morning watch tomorrow would be like on poor Pullings' head. He was about to comment on this to Stephen, who had just come up to him and handed him another Madeira, when Midshipman Williamson hurtled backwards into him from a particularly lively dance with his young lady. The Madeira cascaded, in a rich crimson torrent, down Jack's number one uniform and onto Mr Williamson's hair. Williamson's youthful little partner's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates, and the Midshipman himself closed his eyes tightly, opened them again, went very green and then turned around incredibly slowly to face his slightly surprised captain.
"S-sir," he said, evidently at a loss as to what else to say.
"Never mind, Mr Williamson, ne'er mind. Are you enjoying your evening?"
"Oh, yes sir, if you please," gasped Williamson in a somewhat strangled voice.
"Well then carry on doing so,"
"Yessir," said Williamson, who had now gone from green to dark red and took his partner off as far away from Captain Aubrey as he could.
He turned to Stephen, amused, but Stephen was watching the couples intently.
"Jack," he said, turning to face him, "Which is Captain Clarke?"
"Clarke? That one over there-no, not that one, the short young fellow talking to Mr Pullings and that exquisite young thing he was dancing with earlier," Jack chuckled, "Which I daresay has earned him a fair few evil looks from the other young gentlemen here,"
"Is Clarke a reliable man? Would you say he can be trusted?"
Jack looked at his friend. There was a lot that Stephen had left unsaid; probably in the intelligence line. After their last mission, Jack knew that Stephen had orders to rendezvous with someone ashore, who was to carry the report home to England. Perhaps if Jack and him had been alone, Stephen would have elaborated more.
"Yes," said Jack, choosing his words carefully, "Admirable fellow. Most trustworthy. Promoted into the Lion in '98 for bravery in running stores ashore to our soldiers in The Loire,"
Stephen seemed satisfied with this answer, and nodded sagely.
"How easily jealously in love takes fruit,"
"Eh?"
"Observe, if you will, how our Captain Clarke dances with Miss Berkley,"
"The Governor's daughter? What of it?"
"See how mournfully Mr Pullings watches from the side. He looks almost sober, sure,"
"Love?" Jack laughed, "Lust perhaps, not love,"
"Perhaps,"
Pullings had begun to make his way around the outside of the dancers, his eyes still blazing at Clarke and his partner, who were dancing as if they had not a care in the world, and his feet treading uncertainly so that he swayed at every step.
"Fie, Tom. What would Mrs Pullings say if she saw you making eyes at other young ladies like that?"
"I must beg you not to tell her about it, sir," Pullings grinned blearily and then fell backwards thunderously onto the floor.
"Mr Williamson! Mr Williamson!" The cries brought the midshipman scurrying over, leaving his young maiden looking thoroughly put out beside a gigantic bowl of fruit.
"Help me move Mr Pullings over to the side before he is trampled,"
Mr Williamson seemed incredibly amused at seeing his superior out cold with drink and heartily helped Jack shift the unconscious Lieutenant Pullings onto an expensive looking chair out of harm's way.
"Will he be alright Stephen?"
Stephen looked at Pullings.
"Save from a very pitiable headache, the lieutenant will be perfectly fine. May you please advise him, Jack, not to drink so much, particularly when he is sailing the next morning,"
"Come, Stephen, we can hardly say that Mr Pullings is a drunk. He is perfectly able to stay sober, and it takes a most uncommon long time for him to become inebriated when he does,"
"Still, Jack, there we have him, drunk as sin,"
