Jack strode on deck. His headache wasn't too bad, and there had been only a faint grogginess about his person when he had been cruelly dragged away from a particularly tender dream about Sophie.
He asked for Stephen; the doctor was not here. Clarke's ship, the Venture, was moored nearby- Stephen was probably aboard, he would be a fool not to have guessed that Clarke was the contact to whom Stephen was to deliver the reports. But if Stephen would not come aboard soon, the Surprise would miss the tide, which would just not do.
"Killick!" called Jack in the vague direction of where he thought Killick might be, "Killick, there! Lay along with my number-one coat,"
"Which there ain't no number-one coat." Said Killick triumphantly.
"What's that?"
"There ain't no coat. Which I can't get the stains off it." and then added, as an afterthought, "Sir."
"Damn," said Jack, "Well I'll just have to go like this, then." And then he added, to the officer of the watch, "Mowett!"
"Sir!"
"I want to be underway within the hour, William. All present and sober?"
Jack noticed the pause before Mowett answered, and the apprehensive looks that were exchanged all along the deck. He discerned something that was different, that shouldn't be.
"William…Where is Mr Pullings?"
"Well, sir…"
"Is it not his watch?"
"Yes, sir, he should have relieved me two bells ago,"
"Pass the word for him to report to me, if you please,"
Mowett looked at Allen, who returned his glance with one of baffled consternation.
"Sir, I…Mr Pullings is not aboard,"
How could that be? Pullings had an impeccable record. He would never be late aboard unless he had a very good reason. He would not leave another officer standing his watch until he had an even greater reason. So was he not aboard because he didn't want to be aboard, or because he was not able to come aboard? And if he was unable to come, what did that mean? He could be dead, he could have been attacked by thieves on his way back to ship.
"Mr Mowett, come with me. No, wait, stay. You have had the night watch?"
"Yes, sir," The night watch was evident on Mowett's grey and tired face.
"Then stay here and get some rest. Mr Allen, take the watch,"
"Aye, sir,"
"Thank you, sir,"
Just then, the barge came. Stephen practically bounded up the side- nothing could have been more different than his usual precarious creep- and hurried, as fast as he could, to Captain Aubrey on the quarter deck.
"Jack!" he panted, "Clarke is dead,"
There was a sort of stunned silence which spread across the deck, broken only by an argument between Calamy and Hollom which floated up from the midshipmen's berth.
"Dead?" said Jack.
"He was killed during the night,"
"Killed?"
Stephen nodded.
"And his first lieutenant Calamy,"
"Calamy?"
"Jack, pray do not repeat everything I say. In the street last night, they were stabbed,"
"Lord," said Jack.
"And they believe they have arrested the murderer,"
"Sir," said a small voice close to Jack's right elbow, "If you please, sir," said Mr Williamson, "I've found Mr Pullings,"
