“Do what you will with the army, gentlemen,” said I, “but leave Surajah Dowlah to me.”
“Sure, there’s no one would dispute your right, sir,” said one.
“Every seaman in the fleet will support you in the vengeance you seek,” says another, “and will see you have a fair field for’t.”
“Will they?” says a voice that made us all turn round, to see the Admiral standing behind us, with a brow as black as thunder. “There’s a seaman here, gentlemen, that will do nothing of the sort. What! do I find myself in command of a set of bloodthirsty adventurers, instead of British officers? Mr Fraser, how dare you import a private quarrel into your dealings with his Majesty’s enemies, sir?”
“If I could forget the cause of that quarrel, sir, I would be the most abandoned wretch on earth.”
“I don’t ask you to forget either the quarrel or its cause, sir. Don’t bandy words with me. Pray what’s to become of your men and the King’s interests when you are hunting for the Nabob all over a battlefield? You’re here to uphold the honour of Britain by punishing the villains that have assailed it, not to seek vengeance for private wrongs—no, though your own mother had been slain by the Moors.”
“But, pray, sir,” Billy Speke ventured to say, knowing himself a favourite, “how is Mr Fraser to remember his quarrel without seeking to avenge it?”
“That’s for him to settle with himself, young gentleman. All I can say is, that if I find him seeking vengeance, back he goes on board the Tyger and into irons, for neglecting his duty in face of the enemy. I would have you know, gentlemen, that you en’t knights-errant, but persons under discipline, and that discipline I’ll maintain. Is that the sword that’s to kill the Nabob, Mr Fraser? Give it to me, sir—a heathenish weapon to do heathenish work, properly enough.”
I handed him the scymetar, and he endeavoured to break it across his knee, but though it bent nearly double it resisted him. Catching up a hatchet that lay by, he smashed the sword on the grindstone with it, and threw the pieces towards me.
“Keep to your Christian sword, sir, and use it in a Christian manner. Fight when you find yourself compelled, but don’t go out man-hunting. No,” seeing me look abashed, “I en’t displeased with you, though I was but a few moments back. I look to see you all do good service in a day or two, gentlemen. What? you han’t heard? Monickchund refuses to forward my letters to the Soubah, saying ’twould be as much as his head’s worth, and Mr Clive and I are agreed to move up the river as soon as we can get our stores aboard. There’ll be no peace until Surajah Dowlah is well thrashed.”