The Admiral's Daughter (5 page)

“Indeed I will. We shall promenade the decks in deep discussion—as the disposition of the ship allows, of course—and should you be at leisure of an evening it would gratify me beyond words to dispute with you on the eternal verities. Yet . . .” Kydd's soaring hopes hung suspended “. . . we both have calls upon our time. It were more apt to the situation should we both inhabit our different worlds for the normal rush of events and perhaps rely otherwise on the well-tried rules of politeness—which places so much value on invitation, rather than crass assumptions as to the liberty of the individual to receive.”

Kydd smiled inwardly. This was no more than Renzi securing to himself the ability to disappear into his “sanctum” when he desired to. “By all means, Nicholas. Er, might I know y'r station f'r messin' . . . ?”

It was a delicate point. The need for a captain to keep his cabin and table clear for ship's business was unspoken, and therefore a standing arrangement for dining
à deux
was not in question. This had now been dealt with, but where Renzi took his victuals had considerable social significance. A lowly clerk in a brig-sloop could usually expect the open mess-decks; it was only in weightier vessels that the captain's clerk would rank as a cockpit officer and berth in the gunroom.

“I have been led to believe that steerage will be open to me.” This was the open area below bounded on both sides by cabins and aft by the captain's quarters. It would be where the first lieutenant would hold court over the lesser officers—the master, surgeon and purser. The gunner, boatswain and carpenter had their own cabins forward.

“Why, this does seem a fine thing we've achieved this night,” Kydd enthused, raising his glass. “Here's t' our success!”

Renzi gave an odd smile. “As it will rise or fall by the caprice of your own ship's company,” he murmured.

“Aye. We'll find a way, Nicholas, never fear. So, let's drink.”

An apologetic knock on the door sounded clear. “Come!” Kydd called.

It was the mate-of-the-watch. “Sir, we have Lieutenant Standish here come t' join.” Behind him a figure loomed. Both streamed water; rain must have swept in unnoticed on the anchorage as they dined.

“L'tenant Standish? I hadn't thought ye'd join afore—”

“Sir. M' apologies and duty but I've been afire to be aboard since I heard I'm to be appointed.” His figure was large but indistinct in the darker steerage. “Ah, I'm sorry, sir, I didn't know you'd got company.”

“Oh—that's no matter, Mr Standish. I'd like ye t' meet Mr Renzi. He's a learned gentleman who's takin' berth with us th' better to further his ethnical studies. In th' character of captain's clerk, as it were.”

Standish looked mystified from one to the other, but Renzi got quickly to his feet. He inclined his head to the newcomer, then turned to Kydd and said civilly, “I do thank you for your politeness and entertainment, sir, but must now return below. Good night.”

“Y' see, sir?” Duckitt held out a horny palm. In it was a tiny pyramid of harsh dark grey particles, the early-morning light picking out in curious detail the little grains, smaller than any pepper-corn. “This is y' new cylinder powder—throws a ball jus' the same range wi' a third less charge,” he said.

“Or a third further if y' charge is th' same,” Kydd retorted, but his curiosity was piqued. It was seldom he came across the naked powder: guns were served with it sewn safely inside cartridges of serge or flannel to be rammed home out of sight, and priming powder had a different grain size.

“Ah, well, as t' that, sir, ye must know that it's an Admiralty order as we takes aboard twenty per centum fewer barrels.” A sceptical look appeared on the hovering boatswain's face, which disappeared at Kydd's sharp glance. “And, o' course, ye'd be aware we gets less anyways, bein' Channel duties only.”

“Are ye sayin', Mr Duckitt,” Kydd snapped, “that we must land the powder we now has aboard?”

“Not all of it, sir. We keeps a mort o' White LG for close-in work an' salutin'. For th' rest it's all Red LG powder, best corned an' glazed, charge a third y'r shot weight and a half f'r carronades, one fourth for double-shottin'. It's all there in m' orders jus' received.”

It would take time to discharge from their magazine, cramped into the after end of the hold. Then there was the swaying inboard of the lethal copper-banded barrels from the low red-flagged powder-barges, no doubt only now beginning their slow creep down from the magazines further upstream. “Very well. I'd have wished t' know of this afore now,” Kydd growled.

Purchet turned anxiously. “Shall I rouse out th' larbowlines below now, sir?”

“No, no, Mr Purchet, th' forenoon will do. Let 'em lie.” The thought of breakfast was cheering.

As he turned to go below he saw Standish emerge on deck, ready dressed for the day against Kydd's shirt and breeches.

“Sir—a very good morning to you!”

“Oh—er, thank 'ee.” He had asked that his new first lieutenant present himself in the morning. Clearly the man had taken him literally and was prepared for the morning watch, which started at four. “I had expected ye later. Has all y' dunnage been brought aboard?”

“It has, sir—all stowed and put to rights. Cabin stores coming aboard this afternoon.” He glanced up into
Teazer
's bare masts. “If we're to get to sea this age it were better I begin my duties directly,” he said briskly.

Kydd paused. Was this an implied slight at
Teazer
's untidy state or the sign of a zealous officer? “It does ye credit, Mr Standish, but there's time enough f'r that. Shall we take breakfast together at all?” he added firmly. There was no reason why he should be cheated of his own repast and it would give him proper sight of the man for the first time.

“Why, thank you, sir.” Standish seemed genuinely flattered and followed Kydd respectfully to the great cabin.

“Another f'r breakfast, Tysoe,” Kydd warned. His own meal was ready laid at one end of the polished table—wiggs, dainty breakfast pastries, and sweet jelly, quiddany of plums, in a plain jar, the coffee pot steaming gently. “Well, Mr Standish, the sun's not yet over the foreyard but I'm t' welcome ye into
Teazer,
I believe.”

Tysoe brought napery and cutlery and set another place.

“Pleased indeed to be aboard, sir. You'll understand that to be idle when your country stands in peril sits ill with me.” Standish was well built, his strong features darkly handsome, hair tied back neatly in a queue, like Kydd's, but with a studied carelessness to the curly locks in front.

Kydd helped himself to one of the wiggs, added a curl of butter and a liberal spread of the conserve, then asked casually, “Tell me, sir, may I know why y' asked f'r
Teazer
especially?”

Standish seemed abashed. “Oh, well, sir . . .” He put down his knife and paused, turning to face Kydd. “Do you mind if I'm frank, sir?”

“Do fill an' stand on.” The man held himself well and Kydd was warming to his evident willingness.

“You'll be aware that you, sir, are not unknown in the service,” he began respectfully. “Your boat action at the Nile has often been remarked and, dare I say it, your courage at Acre has yet to see its reward.”

“That's kind in ye to say so.”

“I will be candid, sir. My last post was a ship-o'-the-line, and while a fine enough vessel, she was to join Cornwallis before Brest.” He went on earnestly, “For an officer of aspiration this is, er, a slow route. A frigate berth is too much sought after to be in prospect—then I heard of L'tenant Hodgson's misfortune.”

Kydd nodded for him to continue.

“Sir, my reason for requesting
Teazer—
you'll pardon the direct speaking—is that I believe you to be an active and enterprising captain who will see his chance and seize it. In fine, sir, prospects of a distinguished action for all will be better served in
Teazer
than another.”

It was true that the only sure path to glory and promotion was distinction on the field of battle and subsequent recognition above one's peers. Standish had heard something of Kydd's history and had made a cool calculation that this captain would not hold back in the event of an engagement, so his chances were better for a bloody victory in
Teazer
than in a battleship on blockade duty.

“Thank ye f'r your frankness, Mr Standish. But it may be that within a short time th' Channel Fleet will meet the French an' their invasion fleet. Glory enough f'r all, I would say. Coffee?” The officer looked sincere and was clearly eager to be an active member of
Teazer
's company. “Tell, me, Mr Standish, have ye been fortunate in th' matter of actions?”

“I was at Copenhagen, sir, third o' the
Monarch,
” he said modestly, “and was fourth in
Minotaur
when we cut out the
Prima
galley.”

This was experience enough. In Nelson's squadron during the bloody affair against the Danes, and before, in the fine exploit off Genoa that saw the difficult capture of the heavily manned vessel. “Were ye in the boats?”

“I had the honour to command our pinnace on that occasion, yes, sir.”

This was no stripling learning his trade in a small vessel. Standish was going to be a distinct asset—if his other qualities were as creditable. “Well, I hope
Teazer
c'n afford ye some entertainment in the future.”

“Thank you, sir. May I ask it—do we have our orders yet?”

“None yet, but Admiral Lockwood assures me we'll have 'em presently. Do help y'self to more wiggs.”

“If I might be allowed to make my excuses, sir, I feel I should make an early acquaintance with our watch and station bill.” Kydd noted the “our” with satisfaction. “If there is fault to be found I'm anxious it shall not be mine,” Standish added. He rose to leave, then hesitated. “Did I hear aright, sir, that your friend, our learned gentleman—”

“Mr Renzi?”

“—is he not also in the nature of a—a clerk?”

Kydd allowed his expression to grow stern. “In HMS
Teazer
he is captain's clerk, Mr Standish. He is b' way of being a retired sea officer and brings a deal of experience t' the post. You will find him of much value when he assists ye, as he will.”

“Aye aye, sir,” said Standish uncertainly.

It was while the powder boy was alongside, and the ship in a state of suspended terror at the sight of the deadly barrels swaying through the air, that
Teazer
's two midshipmen arrived. Awed by the tension they sensed in the manoeuvres around them, they stood bareheaded and nervous before a distracted Kydd.

“Andrews, sir,” squeaked the younger. His wispy appearance was not going to impress the seamen, Kydd reflected.

“Boyd, sir,” the other said stolidly.

“Ye're welcome aboard, gentlemen, but f'r now, clew up wi' Mr Prosser. That's him by th' forebitts. Say ye're to take station on him an' I'll attend to y' both later.” Prosser was
Teazer
's only master's mate.

The lads trotted off and Kydd turned back to events. Purchet was in charge: his style was to give few orders and those quietly, forcing the party of men to a strained quiet in case they were missed, the boatswain's mate standing by meaningfully.

The morning wore on, and with the last of the powder aboard and securely in the magazine, the atmosphere eased. “Carry on, if y' please, Mr Prosser,” Kydd said, and turned to go below.

At the bottom of the steps he nearly bumped into Standish. “Ah, sir, do you have a few moments?” He was carrying a sheaf of papers, and in the subdued light of belowdecks Kydd saw Renzi standing politely a few paces back.

He hesitated, caught between courtesy to his friend and a captain acknowledging a mere clerk in front of an officer, and compromised with a civil nod. The two officers went together to Kydd's cabin, leaving Renzi alone.

Standish spread out his papers: it was the watch and station bill and he had, no doubt with discreet hinting from Renzi, made sizeable inroads into the task. “Two watches, I think you requested, sir,” he said, with businesslike vigour, smoothing out a larger paper made of two sheets pasted together. “With a complement of eighty-two men in a brig this size I see no difficulty here, sir. I will stand watch opposite Mr Prosser and we will apportion the men to divisions in like wise.”

It was a good plan: both would see the same men every watch they would lead in detached service or for which they would take domestic responsibility.

Standish added, “As to petty officers o' the tops and similar, as you have been to sea once with them I respectfully seek your opinion.” He handed over his list of stations for each seaman in the various manoeuvres that
Teazer
must perform; mooring ship, taking in sail, heaving up the anchors.