He went below, noticed the smell of midshipmen in the fore-cabin, walked through into the after-cabin, and found himself in total darkness. āClose the door,ā cried Stephen, swarming past him and clapping it to. āWhatās amiss?ā asked Jack, whose mind had moved so deep into naval life that he had forgotten the bees, as he might have forgotten even a vivid nightmare. āThey are remarkably adaptable ā perhaps the most adaptable of all social insects,ā said Stephen, from another part of the cabin. āWe find them from Norway to the burning wastes of the Sahara; but they have not grown quite used to their surroundings yet.ā āOh God,ā said Jack, scrabbling for the handle. āAre they all out?ā āNot all,ā said Stephen. āAnd learning from Killick that you expected guests, I conceived you might prefer them away. There is so much ignorant prejudice against bees in a dining-room.ā Something was crawling on Jackās neck; the door had completely vanished; he began to sweat heavily. āSo I thought to create an artificial night, when, in the course of nature, they return to their hive. I also made three fires for the sake of the smoke: these did not have the desired effect, however. It may be that the darkness is too complete. Let us compromise with a twilight ā dark, but not too dark.ā He raised a corner of sailcloth, and a beam of sun showed an incalculable number of bees on every vertical surface and on most of those that were flat; bees flying in a jerky, meaningless fashion from point to point; fifty or so sitting on his coat and breeches. āThere,ā said Stephen, āthat is far, far better is it not?ā
Post Captain, Patrick OāBrian
