“You won’t take it to him because you know that, if you do, I force it to the Captain. And that brings me to the other point. I don’t pretend to minimize Lynwood’s offence. He is altogether wrong to do what he has done on watch. And I don’t wish to argue with you about the life snotties lead under your orders: that’s your affair, not mine. But I do refuse definitely to be your accomplice in producing their misery. They are ill; they are overworked to a degree you dare not make public; it is preying on their minds. If they don’t collapse physically and go on the sick list they will go mad.” “It’s not for you to interfere in my routine.” “I know. That is why--although I think it’s an open question whether a Sub, who is in some measure responsible for the snotties, ought not to interfere in these circumstances--that is why I have kept my mouth shut hitherto. But beating is within my province----” “I’ve a damned good mind to beat him myself.” “If you try that I go straight to the Captain.” Aggett shrugged his shoulders. “You’re an obstinate mule, aren’t you?” Then he allowed his anger to take charge of him. “You’re an obstinate mule, aren’t you?” he shouted. “Don’t you see that what I’m doin’ is bein’ done for the boy’s good?” “That’s for you to judge. I judge about beating. If you take this matter to the Commander, I take everything--_everything_, remember--to the Captain. If the snotties were being treated reasonably I should have beaten Lynwood for this--much as I dislike beating my friends.” “You admit the crime, and you won’t punish it. I didn’t think you were a fool.” Hartington drew his finger across his chin. “Why don’t you mete out a Service punishment yourself?” “Beatin’ is the proper punishment for this kind of trash.” “Trash? The poetry? It’s not that, Aggett.” “That be as it may. I don’t care if he’s writin’ bloody Keats. What I care about is that a snotty should be a scribbler at all. The sooner he’s broken o’ _that_, the better for himself and everyone else.” “You and I seem likely to disagree on every subject,” Hartington said. “But you haven’t answered my question: why not a Service punishment?” “What?” “Well, on the Upper Deck we give more watch-keeping.” “They are keepin’ watch and watch already, as near as may be; you know that.” “Yes,” said Hartington, “I knew that. It is difficult to punish them more than they are being punished already.” “If I chose that they should keep watch and watch,” Aggett cried, perceiving that Hartington was amused, “it’s none o’ your business. This goes to the Commander.” And he went out of the cabin, purposely leaving the curtain undrawn. Hartington rose and drew it quietly. He undressed, curled himself up in his wicker chair, and began to read the marble-covered notebook. The Commander heard nothing officially of John’s behaviour. Ordith’s advice was sought.