Saturday, 21 May 1870
(afternoon)

Salvage is still underway. Dr Wilson seems to be enjoying his explorations in the diving suit. Edward is simply mad to try it, but we haven't a suit small enough. I admit to a certain degree of interest in seeing the fishes in their own element, but the idea of being so deeply submerged makes me quite uneasy. I suppose if there were a suit my size I'd try it, but the question is academic.

This morning, I threw myself vigorously into our Defence lessons and exercises. The memory of the masses of fighting dead inspires me to new effort.

I am hoping also to impose upon Lt Lochsley to give me further instruction in the use of firearms. I'd like to work with as many types as possible while we are at sea.

It's just too ridiculous to have to resort to throwing rocks when faced with armed enemies. Of course, one rarely runs out of ammunition...

Saturday, 21 May, 1870
(late)
Supper was mostly inedible. If not for some fresh fruits acquired from the island, I think I'd be starving. I am extremely put out with Mr Yeardsley, who is lounging idly in the brig while his kitchen underlings make "bangers and mash" every day.

Miss Chigwidgeon is finally settling down. She has been terribly restless, not able to fix her mind to anything. She sits down to read, but her attention wanders, she gets up and paces.

She went for a walk on deck with Miss Whitnell and Sir Cosmo, and came back worse than before. Her colour has been going from flushed to pale and back again.

She has finally lain down to sleep, but I hear her tossing and turning in relentless agitation.

It could be nothing more than residual anxiety from our ordeal in the catacombs. I myself find it difficult to concentrate. I started on another copy of the Moth Paper, but I kept lapsing into reverie.

Perhaps Miss Chigwidgeon will sleep better if I cease this scratching and turn down the lamp.

Sunday 22 May, 1870

It's past time to get back to our routine. The Salvage is nearly complete, and the undersea boat is being secured for travel.

This morning after breakfast, Exercises and Hindi lessons, I sat down with Edward to resume our regular studies. Coming back to Latin seems strange after seeing a genuine ancient city at Kor. Poor old Caesar and Pompey seem so stale by comparison.

In an effort to be fair and pursue Edward's own interests, I have resolved to assist Edward with his own project in the later part of each afternoon.

As we worked today, though, I had the distinct impression that he was politely humouring me. After an hour or two of this, I decided to retire to the crow's nest.

From that vantage, I could see Miss Chigwidgeon and Sir Cosmo and Miss Whitnell taking the early evening air about the deck. I couldn't make out many of their words...I imagine it was largely Miss Chigwidgeon's fit-and-start style of conversation.

I had the opportunity to ask Mr Caine's advice regarding the cleaning of my boots. I have scrubbed and polished, and I just can't seem to remove the sticky mouldering residue left by the evil priest's head. They are my favorite boots, and I fear they may be ruined.

Mr Caine responded to my request for advice by taking the boots out of my hands, saying he'd return them in the morning. I protested that I didn't wish to impose, that I'd do it myself if he could but guide me. His reply was an enigmatic smile and the words, "Professional secret."

Monday, 23 May, 1870

We set out from St Damien Island in the very early hours this morning. I had actually been asleep, and the engines woke me.

Fortunately, I was able to sleep again, as I grew reaccustomed to the sound and motion of the ship.

Once I rose and came above decks, I found the wind was quite stiff. I was glad of my heavy Trousers, as more than once during Exercises, my skirts were blown quite above my waist. Fortunately, the sailors have learned not to loiter about making remarks during our Practise.

We concluded our efforts just in time to clear the way for the morning's "general quarters" drill.

After Hindi lessons, I had a pleasant little chat with Miss Gordon. She has been working on transcribing and organising Prof Gordon's notes, so as to assist him with the paper he will write regarding the Expedition's findings. She has apparently done this for him for much of her life. She had some clever pointers about organising one's papers for shipboard travel.

Miss Chigwidgeon has been spending quite a bit of time with Salmalin today. She seems increasingly at ease with him. His duties as her bodyguard puts him close to her much of the time, yet none of us seems to worry about any impropriety. His unobtrusive yet constant presence is somehow disarming.

In Contrast, I have noticed that Miss Whitnell is very assiduous in accompanying Miss Chigwidgeon whenever she is with Sir Cosmo. I have observed that particular walking distance which gives the pair a sense of private conversation while under proper observation.

Of course, we all know that Sir Cosmo would never do anything improper. He really is the soul of decency. Miss Whitnell seems simply intent upon preserving all the forms of correct chaperonage.

Lt Lochsley was very accommodating when I requested additional firearms practise. He invited me to join in when he puts the men through their small-arms drills. That is on the schedule for tomorrow morning.

After dinner, I went up to the crow's nest to watch our approach and docking at Praia, our coal-stop. Captain Rodgers has given permission for us to go ashore during the loading tomorrow. I'm sure it will be very interesting, it looks to be a very busy place.

Mr Caine returned my boots this morning after breakfast. They are Perfect. He is an absolute marvel. I wish I could think of some favor to do for him in return.

Tuesday, 24 May, 1870

I found the Marketplace noisy and crowded. I had to glare at a person who attempted to pick my pocket. Edward was hopping around everywhere, and ate several things that I didn't dare try to identify.

I did buy some fresh fruit, and also a few feathers to re-trim my summer hat, but I found myself becoming quite weary of beggars and street vendors shouting at me, as though I would understand them better if they were louder.

The others seemed to be enjoying themselves, and I didn't want to spoil their outing. I was so relieved to meet Lt Lochsley as he was returning to the ship with a few parcels. He was kind enough to escort me safely back aboard the Griffin.

Conveniently, this put me in perfect time to join the small-arms drill. Lt Lochsley assisted me quite kindly as I tried out three different pistols. The "Webley," which I used Wednesday last, was rather cumbersome, but seems to be fairly well liked by the Marines. Next I tried a dueling pistol called a "Wogden." Both of these can only fire one shot...I should think that would not be very helpful in a situation such as we met in the Catacombs.

I rather liked the "Adams" revolver, which can fire six times before reloading. It was quite heavy though. By the time I finished, my arms were trembling, and my ears were ringing despite my ear covers. I insisted that Lt Lochsley allow me to clean the weapons that I had used (with his instruction, of course).

About this time, my colleagues were returning from shore. Lt Lochsley seemed to become quite animated as the party came back aboard, and his eyes followed them as they moved from the gangplank to the steps leading to our suite of cabins. I suppose he's still holding out some hopes regarding Miss Chigwidgeon.

Miss Chigwidgeon and Salmalin had had some lengthy conferences while ashore, and now returned to the ship with a remarkable armload of assorted items. This included some very fragrant flowers which I have never seen before, which are now in water in our cabin.

At supper this evening, I asked Lt Pellew about our return journey. He told me in detail about the course he had plotted. I think I'll stop in at the chartroom tomorrow and look at the charts myself.

Wednesday, 25 May, 1870

We are underway again and Praia is long out of view behind us. Our exercises and lessons have filled the morning as usual.

I tried two rifles today. I had thought the Pistols difficult and cumbersome. These were certainly worse. The "Infield" rifle required a number of little levers be manipulated before firing. When I commented that it seemed a lot of trouble, Lt Lochsley showed me an older style called a "Brown Bess," which is no longer made, but some still use it. This relic has no cartridges, but requires a whole circus of powder, wadding, packing, for every shot.

On the whole, I think rocks are looking better and better.

Miss Chigwidgeon and Salmalin seem to be constructing a shrine to Kali. She has been sitting on her bunk, stringing flowers, for an hour. Her purchases from yesterday are arrayed in the small space between our bunks.

I don't mind it really, except that when I returned from afternoon lessons with Edward, I found that she had been burning some horrible incense. She was very apologetic when she noticed that my eyes were instantly streaming tears, and my nose... well, I was a mess. I didn't have to say a word, she turned the incense dish into a bucket and poured water over it.

I don't know how I'll get the smell out of my clothes.

During afternoon lessons, I took Edward to the chartroom to look at the maps with me. Nothing like a little practical application to make Geography a little more interesting. Edward did get a bit impatient with Lt Pellew's detailed explanations.

I heard some interesting interchanges in the corridor this afternoon... Lt Lochsley came down and knocked on Miss Whitnell's and Mrs Cuthbert's door. He explained that he had seen some silks at Praia that he thought Mrs Cuthbert would like. Since her blouse had been torn in the fighting in the Catacombs, he had bought some for her.

Knowing what I do about his tendency to give gifts to ladies he is wooing...well, perhaps he has given up Miss Chigwidgeon after all.

Mrs Cuthbert has firmly defended Lt Lochsley when others of us have become exasperated with his attentions. Perhaps he perceives her generous and kindly nature, and has an unexpected appreciation for these virtues.

Miss Chigwidgeon and Sir Cosmo continue their evening walks, with Miss Whitnell in close attendance. Does she perceive an Attachment which requires her vigilance?

Miss Chigwidgeon absolutely idolises Sir Cosmo. Anyone can see that. But Sir Cosmo would never take advantage of that. Why is Miss Whitnell's concern so sharp?

I know that Miss Whitnell's own marriage was not a happy one. Perhaps she mistrusts the restraint of any man faced with such temptations. That doesn't quite ring true, though.

Perhaps I shall have a quiet chat with Miss Chigwidgeon this evening. After all, I have seen quite a number of girls though the throes of both successful and unsuccessful courtships. I should be able to steer her gently away from unsuitable hopes.

Thursday, 26 May, 1870

The rifle I used yesterday left rather a bruise on my arm.

Nevertheless, I made the most of small-arms drill this morning and practised with the revolver again. I seem to be a fair shot, at least until my arms get tired. I hope that continuing our other exercises will, in time, improve my strength.

The Laundry has been able to get the most pungent part of the incense out of my cotton and linen garments by washing, and the woolens have been improved by hanging in the steam for a bit. Once we are home I can hang them to air further.

Edward and I spent the afternoon going over his drawings of the undersea boat, and I made him describe all their workings to me yet again. I'm not sure if his language is becoming clearer, or if I am absorbing his bizarre dialect. Anyhow, it's good practice for him to have to explain technical details.

I am beginning to realise that my grasp of Greek is completely insufficient to tutor a boy with such inclinations to Natural Philosophy and Mathematics. Perhaps, if we can find a good textbook, we can learn together.

I must devote some thought to the difficult circumstance of Miss Chigwidgeon. Last evening, as we prepared for sleep, I asked her how she had enjoyed her evening walk, and from there steered the conversation around to Sir Cosmo.

I was expecting her glowing (if halting) praise of him. I did not expect to hear a confidence about a letter she and Miss Whitnell had found in his coat pocket while we were searching for him in the Catacombs. I don't think she had meant to tell me, but she seems to have so little control over her own talk! This letter was, I have deduced, the draft of the one she showed me last week, which expressed perfectly proper fatherly sentiments.

This draft had had a more intimate quality, which quite fired Miss Chigwidgeon's imagination. Moreover, it also affected Miss Whitnell, and contrary to my supposition, Miss Whitnell has been Encouraging the Attachment on both sides.

This presents quite a different problem.

I have believed that Sir Cosmo, decent and generous person that he is, had taken her in as a sort of daughter, to foster her intelligence and give her needed education and confidence.

I should have realised that, decent and generous person that he is, if he did have more intimate feeling for her, he would never impose upon her. He is thoroughly aware that she is half his age, and that she would do anything for him out of gratitude and admiration, and he would never press for advantage over her.

What if he is in love with her? What might that mean, to him? Can a man so much older really find common ground with a young woman? Of course, older men marry young women all the time, but they usually treat them as trophies. I feel sure that that is not what Sir Cosmo would want.

What would their relationship be like? As it is now, they can barely talk to one another, they both get so tongue tied. How can two intelligent people consider a match when they can't even have a conversation?

Miss Chigwidgeon, like most young ladies, thinks only with her heart. She has no rational distance. She might love Sir Cosmo, but that doesn't mean she has the foggiest idea of what life would be like if he married her.

For one thing, I doubt his family would ever approve. He is heir to a Baronial seat. What a scandal if he married a motherless girl whose father is a drunkard and a criminal!

Miss Chigwidgeon would be cut down in a heartbeat. All those plain and dull girls with spotless pedigree won't stand for a common-born interloper. If intelligence and beauty become as important as pedigree, then what will they have to recommend them? Nothing.

The mothers of all such girls, by influencing their husbands, could make life very hard for Sir Cosmo if he marries beneath his station.

It's very easy to say that one doesn't care about the opinions of others. However, the opinions of the powerful affect commerce, votes in parliament, railway funding, credit with banks, and numerous such things that Sir Cosmo probably takes for granted at present.

If Sir Cosmo does harbor warm feelings for Miss Chigwidgeon, the matter is quite out of my hands. It's one thing for me to gently discourage Miss Chigwidgeon from embarrassing herself and Sir Cosmo, but to interfere with a match hoped for by one's employer is too entirely out of line.

I have no really solid information at present anyhow, only an hypothesis with no socially acceptable means of testing. I can only hope that neither Sir Cosmo nor Miss Chigwidgeon will take any rash action which they might both regret later.

After all, we have all just survived a very frightening experience, and here we are in a situation which prompts us all to forget the realities of our lives at home. Once we are back in our places in London, all our routines and duties will no doubt bring us back to common sense. Aslo, Miss Chigwidgeon will be reminded of her other suitors.

I suppose it would be best if I just put the whole thing out of my mind, unless Sir Cosmo asks for my advice...which he won't.

Miss Whitnell, from all indirect evidence, does not share my concerns. In the light of what Miss Chigwidgeon has told me, her actions are easier to understand. She is apparently a Romantic after all.

Friday, 27 May, 1870

We are very nearly home. We passed the Channel Islands today, and I got a good look at them from the crow's nest. Tomorrow morning, we will be in Harwich.

Much of this morning I devoted to packing. My own things were fairly simple to get together. Miss Chigwidgeon, on the other hand, has a number of newly acquired items to secure--her new shrine is full of strange little objects which will have to be packed carefully.

I watched the turret drill this morning. Lt Wooster seemed to really be enjoying himself. I suppose he'll be sorry to return to land. Lt Spode won't miss him, though.

I wish I'd been able to talk more with Lt Spode. It was certainly a pleasure to speak with an intelligent person who shares my interest in pollinating insects. I hope his brother will have the good sense to listen to him about farming practices. He's a competent officer, from all I can see, but I think his heart belongs to the land.

I think Lt Lochsley will be sorry to see us all go. He has been escorting Mrs Cuthbert for strolls about the lower deck these past few evenings. She seems to enjoy his company. He certainly is a more pleasant person now that he has stopped trying so hard to impress all of us at once.

I will have one further opportunity to practise with the pistol this afternoon, as the men do their small-arms drills, and the targets and the ammunition are all arranged. I don't know if I'll be able to practise at all once we return to Town.

Thank goodness for rocks.

Proceed to 1. Inconspicuous Again

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