A Gentleman's Decision

'
Kingston harbour's gently lapping waves were soothingly caressing the hull of HMS Impetueux. The morning's fulgent sunshine and glittering sea, however, stood in stark relief with the sour mood of the cabin's single occupant. An open packet with a fresh set of orders from the Admiralty lay haphazardly strewn across the commodore's intricately carved desk. The orders as such did not come as a surprise but were unwelcome news nonetheless.

With impatience-tinged voice, the dark-haired commodore barked for his cabin boy to fetch Dr Llewelyn from the sick berth with expediency. The spindly-limbed boy looked puzzled for a moment but knew better than to ask for clarification and hurried away. He would find Dr Ingram-Bassenthwaite for the whereabouts of the unknown doctor. Indeed, he was a bright lad and would make a capable officer one day – if he lived long enough to earn his commission.

Fuming his annoyance, Sir Edward took to pacing the length of his cabin again, doubling down on his efforts to rein in his foul temper. It was unseemly and would not do for the commander of a ship to let his emotions show in such an obvious manner. Hands firmly clasped behind his back, he stopped at one of the aft windows, which ran the full width of the ship, staring out at nothing in particular. So lost in thought was he that he almost missed the decisive rapping at his door.

Fully expecting the newly hired doctor, Commodore Pellew bellowed a curt, "come!" over his shoulder without sparing so much as a glance at the newcomer.

Taking a calming breath, then turning briskly to face his guest, he was somewhat surprised, though, to see his remarkably attentive steward standing just inside the doorway, offering a steaming mug of coffee to his captain. The hint of a smile almost imperceptibly lifted the edges of the irate commodore's lips as he gratefully accepted the hot brew, savouring the blissfully fragrant aroma.

His steward unobtrusively took his leave just before another knock beckoned for Sir Edward's attention. That must be the doctor, then.

Spirits significantly improved after sipping a few mouthfuls of the hot beverage, Pellew managed a more agreeable, "please come in."

This time, it was indeed the local physician passing his door step. "Good morning, Doctor," he greeted amiably, taking in the man's confoundingly dishevelled appearance.

"Good morning, Sir," the doctor replied wearily, straightening his spine. "You wished to see me?"

"I trust your welcome aboard Impetueux and my surgeon's assistance have proven satisfactory." The off-hand inquiry wasn't voiced as a question so the tired doctor did not bother with a polite answer.

Indeed, the commodore did not seem to expect one as he immediately followed up by inviting, "Please have a seat, Sir." However, it was not only common courtesy that prompted Pellew to make the offer. Good grief, with hunched shoulders and dark circles under his eyes, the man opposite him looked exhausted beyond measure and about ready to drop where he stood. Ashore, with his reputable private practice frequented by higher ranking officers and the gentlemen of society, Sir Edward reckoned, the good doctor was not used to a few scant hours of sleep and a schedule divided into four-hour shifts.

"How is your patient, Doctor? Any improvement?"

"Sadly no, Sir. For good or ill, there has been no change at all since last night," Dr Llewelyn replied truthfully. "The lad has not woken yet but he has not given up, either. He is still fighting."

"Well, that is the best one could hope for at this point, I suppose," Commodore Pellew admitted.

Detecting a glint of fatherly concern in the captain's dark eyes, Dr Llewelyn ventured, "You seem rather fond of this young man."

Sir Edward's usually steely gaze softened further and his eyes turned pensive. "Through no fault of his own, neither life nor the Navy have treated him kindly so far." Without elaborating further, he let the grave sentiment hang uncomfortably in the air for a moment before swiftly brushing the topic aside and asking rather bluntly, "Now tell me, Doctor, in your professional opinion, is your patient in any shape to travel?"

Caught completely off-guard and briefly forgetting himself in his outrage, a quick flash of anger crossed Dr Llewelyn's expressive face before he snapped indignantly, "And purposely ruin all my hard work?! Absolutely not!"

Despite fully expecting the man's outburst, Pellew's earlier irritation threatened to bubble over once more as he readied himself to broach the actual subject of their conversation. "It cannot be helped, though," he stated matter-of-factly. "And I am afraid, Sir, the main reason for calling upon your attention this morning has yet to be addressed."

Questioning brown eyes stared at the commodore apprehensively, "Sir?"

"I have orders to set sail for Tortola Island with the next tide," Sir Edward announced distastefully. "As soon as all provisions have finished loading and have been stowed away, we will weigh anchor. Mr K– McKinley," Pellew amended, instantly catching his slip, "the young man in your care," he clarified, "must of course remain on board and shall sail with us. Therefore–"

"If you wanted to kill the lad," the agitated doctor interjected scorchingly, "you could have spared yourself the trouble of hiring me!"

Unperturbed at the rude interruption and used to being addressed with due respect, Sir Edward fixed his most withering glare on his guest. "You are forgetting your station, Doctor. Calm yourself, Sir, and let me finish." In a slightly more insistent voice he then proceeded, "To ensure your patient's well-fare, your expertise continues to be required aboard, Sir."

The commodore's keen eyes studied the doctor intently while giving the man a few seconds to digest the news. "Once your services are no longer needed, Sir, it should be easy enough for you to find passage from Tortola Island back to Jamaica."

Dr Llewelyn blanched visibly, dreading the implications.

"The sun has already risen well above the horizon," Pellew ploughed ahead unflinchingly. "Time is running short, Doctor, and I suggest you immediately see to undertaking what preparations you must."

"Surely you do not expect me to drop everything at short notice, leave my practice and livelihood behind and go gallivanting across the seven seas?!" Dr Llewelyn sputtered. Incongruously, he sounded more dejectedly resigned than outright offended.

Pellew deliberately adopted an air of nonchalance. The delicacy of the matter had not escaped the seasoned captain, yet he surmised, not acknowledging it, was in this case the better strategy. "A young man's life hangs in the balance, Doctor," he entreated. "You have been handsomely compensated, and I believe your honour dictates to further attend your patient but of course I have no authority to force you on this journey against your will if you decide otherwise. All I can do, Sir, is remind you of the oath you have taken and appeal to your conscience. Nevertheless, the final decision lies with you, Doctor. The officer of the watch has standing orders to accommodate your every need and set you ashore should you so wish. That will be all," he dismissed the flabbergasted man.

Sitting down and seemingly returning his full attention to the papers on his desk, out of the corner of his eye, Commodore Pellew observed the stupefied doctor positively flee from his day cabin.

An emphatic sigh escaped Sir Edward from the depths of his soul as he leaned heavily against the back of his chair. The decision was out of his hand now but for Kennedy's sake he hoped that in spite of the doctor's initial reluctance, the man would come through.