Marley: A Novel by Jon Clinch

Author:Jon Clinch [Clinch, Jon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atria Books
Published: 2019-10-08T00:00:00+00:00

1808

Eighteen

Years at sea have served not to roughen Captain Balfour but to smooth him, to soften his sharp edges, to polish his every surface until he has acquired the soft pale gleam of the carved whalebone knife that he carries in his pocket. He obtained the implement on some Polynesian adventure in the long-ago past when he was but a gunner’s mate, and although it is useful only for opening envelopes or cutting pages as he reads one of his beloved naval histories, he keeps it with him always.

Stationed now in London, he misses the sea but not overmuch. His skills are required here at home, or such is the opinion of his superiors, and he is long-habituated to following orders. There are ships to be outfitted in yards on the Thames and in Portsmouth and elsewhere, there are men to be recruited and trained, there are missions to be plotted for the advancement of the latest national policies. If he can serve the crown better by overseeing such activities than by commanding his trusty old ship, the Guardian, then so be it. He only hopes that after he has served a reasonable landbound term he may once again be sent to sea, that he may finish his service in the place where he is happiest.

“Thy will be done,” he accedes to the Almighty as he finishes uttering a prayer to that very effect—for in religious practice as in military life, he is accustomed to serving at the whim of some invisible superior. He opens his eyes and searches for a page in the hymnbook as the choir rises in the loft. Remote and enrobed and lit from above, they look to him like so many angels—especially the alto on the very right. (Is alto the term? Is that the lower of the two ladies’ parts? Yes, he is quite certain. Alto it is.) The girl has about her an ethereal quality, something that elevates her not just above the choir but above the congregation and indeed above mankind in general. The passion carried by her voice and the devotion written upon her face stir not just his soul but also his heart. And surpassing all of that—although Balfour would like to think himself beyond such lowly considerations—is her beauty. A man is a man, though, there is no use denying it. And a man’s passions are to be kept in check. In his years at sea he has often seen men succumb to their most bestial natures. He has witnessed and indeed punished iniquities so terrible that he is ashamed that the folds of his memory have carried them into this holy place. He of all people understands the vile lusts of men. But this is not that. Not by any means.

The hymn ends and a sermon follows and a freewill offering is taken. Balfour is still reassuring himself on the crucial point of his innocence when, prior to the benediction, the pastor invites the congregation to a reception for tea and cakes and good Christian fellowship.

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