The Fortune of War (Aubrey/Maturin, #6)

by Patrick O'Brian

And then turning to Stephen he said, ‘Captain Yorke is very handsomely clearing his whole forepeak for you, and all your dunnage must be aboard within the hour. Mr Babbington will give you a party to rouse it out, and you must supervise its stowage. La Flèche’s boats will be alongside as soon as I am relieved. There is not a moment to be lost.’ Stephen was used to the shocking abruptness, the inhuman promptitude of naval decisions – the cry of ‘Lose not a minute’ had echoed in his ears from his first day in the service – but never had he been expected to be required to transfer the fruit of so many months of patient toil from one ship to another in fifty-three minutes. The minerals alone weighed several tons. His mouth opened in protest but he knew that there was no hope, closed it again, and stared distractedly around. ‘This way, sir,’ said Mr Forshaw in his clear treble pipe, leading him to the fore hatchway. ‘I know just where the sea-elephants are stowed. Mind the step, sir, and clap on with both hands.’ Mr Forshaw often protected Dr Maturin, whom he regarded as a worthy man, but quite unfit to be let out alone. Yet in spite of the young gentleman’s protection, and that of the first lieutenant, and the willingness of the party, and the kindness of a great many other Leopards, who lent a hand as soon as their own messmates’ property was shifted – no great task, since they carried almost all of it on their backs, and the rest would scarcely fill a ditty-bag, while a sing...