The morning had been a particularly difficult one for Mr. Mercer. The same midshipman that had napped behind him in Beckett's office had now been deemed worthy to serve as his assistant. The boy, Tatting was his name, had woken him up fifteen minutes earlier than told, and, after a look from Mercer, quickly shouted out that Lord Beckett had just arrived on an unexpected visit. Without a word, Mercer got up and dressed.
Straightening his jacket, he stepped out of his quarters nearly running into a blue- coated figure, brocade glistening in the early morning sun. Looking up he saw the face of none other than Admiral Norrington, his displeased expression framed by the double curl wig Mercer found so ridiculous and had early on suggested for the uniform of the highest officers of the East India Trading Company.
"Requested your presence as well, eh?" Mercer asked, walking toward his employer's quarters.
"So it would seem," Norrington replied, following the secretary with hands tightly clasped behind his back.
The ship's crew tore their attention away from their work to watch the two. Sharing looks of discomfort, they dreaded what was going to transpire inside Beckett's quarters. After all, Tatting had said that Mercer and Norrington had held pistols pointed at each other during the entire meeting and would have most definitely killed had not their guns both jammed at the same time. With a glance from the admiral, they quickly turned back to the work at hand.
Mercer knocked three times on the door to the office. It was immediately opened by another blue clad officer, younger than the two men standing outside. Taking no notice of him, Mercer stepped through the door. Norrington, however, had frozen on the spot. The admiral and lieutenant looked as if they might say something to each other, but the younger simply swallowed and offered a nod. Norrington, his face falling a bit, nodded back.
"Groves?" came Beckett's voice from behind the mahogany desk.
Groves opened the door a little wider and waved his hand toward Beckett and his clerk, inviting him in. Norrington stepped in and took his place in the seat beside Mercer. Beckett shifted forward in his chair, putting papers into his desk. Groves moved to stand dutifully behind him.
"Now," Beckett said, pushing the papers in for a last time and locking the draw, "I've called you gentlemen here today to discuss the expansion of the East India Trading Company throughout the rest of the Caribbean islands. In short, things are progressing exactly as planned."
Norrington glanced to the man on his right. Mercer had relaxed, leaning back into his chair. He must be very pleased with himself, he thought. He stole a glimpse at his former lieutenant, who had been staring at him intently since he had sat down.
"I also have your orders. You are to remain on the Endeavour until further notice," Beckett said, noting the coldness that seemed to have permeated the space between the men sitting in front of him. "I trust that won't be inconvenient for either of you."
Mercer looked to his left, then back to his superior. "Not a problem at all, sir."
"Admiral?" Beckett said, venom slipping between the syllables.
"No problem, sir," he replied simply. He wished he could have said something better, especially with a man he had formerly served with in the room.
"Excellent. I shall return to our headquarters in Port Royal on the Alexander and finish our work there."
"Lord Beckett," said Norrington,"surely you'll need the Endeavour. Port Royal does not have the most secure fort in—"
"I assure you that it does, Admiral. You have no need to worry," he said, his posture becoming stiffer.
"Of course, sir."
"Well, then, gentlemen, I have other business to attend to. I trust you'll remember that the Endeavour is a particular favorite of mine, and you'd do well to keep her safe."
The two men nodded, and the three of them rose. Groves again moved to open the door. They filed out of the cabin, Beckett first. The Alexander was floating beside them, its newly painted hull glittering like the water beneath it. Before boarding, Beckett turned to the men in his wake.
"Enjoy your new assignment, gentlemen. Lieutenant Groves make yourself at home."
Nods were passed all around and Beckett walked along the gang plank back to his ship.
"Asinus asinum fricat," Mercer whispered turning to Norrington.
His mood declining further, Norrington walked away, ignoring the salutes from the crew. Mercer smiled to himself.
"Welcome aboard, Lieutenant Groves," he said before strolling away in the opposite direction.
Groves sighed and looked after the Alexander as it pulled away. Beside him, two midshipmen were whispering carelessly to each other.
"Wonder which one of 'em's pistol jammed this time?"
To put it in G-rated rated terms this means "the donkey reprehending the donkey." You can use your imagination to guess the synonyms that are used in the exact translation. ; )