Captain Barrett had a loud laugh and a hearty manner of speaking; Lieutenant Chimmo was thin of voice, stilted and affected, so stiff and snobbish as to satisfy me he was not a born gentleman. I wondered to find neither of the mates at the table, but I soon discovered that it was the custom on board the _Childe Harold_ for the mate of the watch to come below and eat after the captain was done, the other two mates joining him when possible, so as to make a separate table.
The talk at the beginning was not very interesting. The convict guard, it seems, had come to the ship from Chatham, and neither Captain Barrett nor the lieutenant could say too much in abuse of that place. There was no society; dirt and drink formed the life of the town. Deptford, nay even Sheerness, was sweet and desirable compared to Chatham. The doctor ate and drank water with a little wine in it and seemed to listen. The captain frequently lifted his eyes to the skylight as though thinking more of the weather than of the officers’ chatter. Presently Captain Barrett, leaning across the table, said to the doctor:
‘Chimmo and I have been wondering whether you’d have any objection, after the fellow’s irons are knocked off, I mean, to Barney Abram coming aft to give us a few lessons in sparring? I dare say, captain, your sailmaker could contrive to furnish out an arrangement of canvas and oakum to answer for boxing-gloves.’
‘It would be impossible to imagine any objection stronger than mine to your suggestion,’ said the doctor.
‘There’d be always a sentry at hand, you know,’ said Lieutenant Chimmo.
‘Let us change the subject,’ said the doctor severely.
Captain Barrett looked at the doctor with a slight sneer and said: ‘We’ll not talk of bringing Barney Abram aft: we’ll talk of Barney Abram as he is. Pity so much talent should go wrong. Transport your felonious clergy, attorneys, farmers, medical men,’ he added, with a significant look at the doctor, ‘there’d always then be too many to spare. But to send such a prize-fighter as Barney Abram out of the kingdom! To ship him into a country where there’ll be nobody to appreciate him! By Heaven, it’s as bad as robbing the crown of England of a jewel!’
The captain, observing that the doctor did not like this talk, changed the subject by speaking of the fine progress the ship was making. At this moment I was sent to the pantry by the steward. When I returned, I heard Lieutenant Chimmo say: ‘What would those chaps under hatches give for a taste of that curried fowl! Your cook’s a neat hand, captain.’