Mutiny

_{The boatswain's mate stopped in astonishment, then looked at the captain. Dwyer's eyebrow rose, and he turned to Welby, nodding once.}

_{'Do yer dooty then, Miller.' Welby threw at his mate in satisfaction. The drum thundered, and stopped. In the sickening silence the cat swept down, bringing a hopeless squeal of pain. Kydd looked away. This was achieving nothing, neither individual respect for discipline nor a cohering deference for justice in common.}

_{Lashes were laid on pitilessly. The ship's company watched stolidly: this was the way it was, and no amount of protest could change it.}

_{Kydd scanned the mass of men. He noticed Farnall, the educated quota man who'd had a run-in with Boddy when he first came aboard. Farnall's face showed no indication of disgust or hatred, more a guarded, speculative look.}

_{The contrast between the grim scenes on the upper deck and the fellowship at the noon meal directly afterwards brought a brittle gaiety. Grog loosened tongues and the satisfaction of like company quickly had the crowded mess tables in a buzz of companionable talk and laughter.}

_{Kydd always took a turn along the main deck before his own dinner: after overseeing the issue of grog to the messes he had an implied duty to bear complaints from the men aft, but the real reason was that he enjoyed the warm feeling of comradeship of the sailors at this time, and he could, as well, try the temper of the men by their chatter.}

_{He passed down the centreline of the ship, the sunlight patterning down through the hatchway gratings, the odour of the salt pork and pease filling the close air of the gundeck. Today there were not the lowered voices, glaring eyes or harsh curses that usually preceded trouble, and he guessed that the useless quota hand had gained few friends.}

_{'Jeb.' He nodded at a nuggety able seaman, who grinned back, winking his one remaining eye. No bad blood, it seemed. This was a man Kydd had seen to it drew duty as captain of the heads after he had found him asleep in the tops. He could have taken the man before the captain for a serious offence, but instead he was cleaning the seats of ease each morning before the hands turned to.}

_{As Kydd came abreast the next pair of guns, a seaman got to his feet, hastily bolting a mouthful. It was Boddy. 'First Sunday o' the month, next,' he said significantly.}

_{'Aye,' said Kydd, guessing what was coming.}

_{'An' I claims ter shift mess inter number six st'b'd.'}

_{Kydd pursed his lips. 'They'll have ye?' It was the right of every man to choose his messmates - and they him.}

_{The first Sunday of the month was when moves were made. What was a puzzle was that this was Farnall’s mess, a landman's refuge, and he'd heard that Boddy and Farnall had tangled in Gibraltar. He took out his notebook. 'I'll see first luff knows’ he said.}

_{The indistinct blue-grey bluff of Finisterre left astern, Achilles plunged and rolled on into the Bay of Biscay. Kydd's heart was full: they were bound for England, to his home and hearth for the first time after years that had seen him on a world voyage in a famous frigate, in the Caribbean as a quartermaster in a trim little topsail cutter and a full master's mate in a 64-gun ship-of-the-line. He would return to Guildford a man of some consequence. 'Back to th' fleet - no chance of prize money there,' he said to Cockburn, a grin belying his words.}

_{The day faded to a brisk evening, then night. The frigate had been called to heel, and her lights twinkled and appeared over to larboard in the moonless dusk. Last dog-watchmen were called, hammocks piped down and the watch-on-deck mustered. Achilles sailed into the night, her watch expecting an uneventful time. The frigate's lights faded ahead before midnight, but an alert lookout sighted them an hour or two later on the opposite side, creeping back companionably.}

_{The morning watch was always a tense time, for enemy ships could appear out of the cold dawn light and fall upon an unprepared vessel. As with most naval vessels, Achilles met the dawn at quarters, ready for any eventuality.}

_{A ship-of-the-line with a frigate in company had little to fear, and as the light of day gradually extended, the boredom of waiting saw gun-crews dozing, watch-on-deck relaxed, captain not on deck.}

_{The situation caught everyone by surprise. In the strengthening light the comfortable but indistinct loom of the frigate to starboard resolved by degrees into a much larger ship, further off.}

_{Eastman, the master, snatched the night glass from Binney, the officer-of-the-watch, and sighted on the vessel. 'Blast m' eyes if that ain't a Mongseer!' he choked. The telescope wavered slighdy. 'An' another comin' up fast!'}

_{Binney snatched the glass back. 'The captain,' he snapped, to a gaping midshipman.}

_{Kydd crossed to the ship's side and strained to make out the scene. The larger vessel, ship-rigged and just as large as Achilles, was making no moves towards them. The tiny sails beyond were the other ship that Eastman had spotted.}

_{'Mr Binney?' Dwyer was breathless and in his night attire.}

_{'Sir, our frigate is not in sight. The lights we saw during the night were this Frenchman, who it seems thought ours were, er, some other. There's another of 'em three points to weather.' He handed the telescope over.}

_{The morning light was strengthening rapidly and it was possible to make out details. 'Frenchy well enough,' Dwyer murmured. As he trained the telescope on the ship, her masts began to close, her length foreshorten. 'She's woken up — altering away.'}

_{'Off ter get with the other 'un,' offered someone.}

_{'Yeeesss, I agree,' Dwyer said, and handed back the telescope. 'Bear up, Mr Binney, and we'll go after him.'}

_{He turned to the master. 'What's our offing from the French coast?'}

_{'About twelve leagues, sir.' Near to forty miles; but no ports of consequence near. The captain's eyes narrowed, then he shivered and hurried below.}

_{Kydd clattered down the main hatchway; his place at quarters was the guns on the main deck forward, under Binney. The captain and his officers were now closed up on the quarterdeck, so he and Binney could assume their full action positions.}

_{Low conversations started among the waiting guncrews: a weighing of chances, exchanging of verbal wills, a comparative estimate of sailing speeds — the age-old prelude to battle. Kydd grimaced at the sight of the new hands, nervously chattering and fiddling with ropes. Mercifully the course alteration to eastward was downwind, the complex motion of before was now a gentle rise and fall as she paced the waves. The landmen would at least have a chance of keeping their footing.}

_{One had the temerity to ask Poynter their chances. He stroked his jaw. 'Well, m' lad, seein' as we're outnumbered two ter one, can't say as how they're so rattlin' good.' The man turned pale. 'Should give it away, but the cap'n, bein' a right mauler, jus' won't let 'em go, we has -ter go 'em even if it does fer us . . .' He drew himself up, and scowled thunderously at the man. 'An' you'll be a-doin' of yer dooty right ter the end, now, won't yez?'}

_{Kydd himself was feeling the usual qualms and doubts before an action, and when the man looked away with a sick expression he smiled across at him encouragingly. There was no response.}

_{'Hey, now!' An excited cry came from one of a gun-crew peering out of a gunport. 'She ain't French, she's a Spaniard!'}

_{Kydd pushed his way past the crew and took a look. The larger vessel, stern to, had just streamed the unmistakable red and yellow of the Spanish sea service. At the same time he saw that she had not pulled away — but the other ship was much nearer, as tight to the wind as she could.}

_{Poynter appeared next to Kydd, eagerly taking in the scene. Kydd glanced at him: his glittering, predatory eyes and fierce grin was peculiarly reassuring.}

_{'Ha!' Poynter snarled in triumph. 'Yer sees that? She ain't a-flyin' a pennant — she's a merchant jack is she, the fat bastard!' The stem-on view of the ship had hidden her true character, but Poynter had spotted the obvious.}

_{It seemed that on deck they had come to the same conclusion, for above their heads there was a sudden bang and reek of powder-smoke as a gun was fired to leeward to encourage the Spaniard to strike her colours.}

_{Binney couldn't resist, and came over to join them at the gunport. 'She's a merchantman, you say.'}

_{'She is,' said Poynter, who saw no reason why he should enlighten an officer.}

_{The fleeing ship did not strike, and Kydd saw why: the other ship, the frigate, coming up fast must be her escort. The odds were now reversed, however. He did not envy the decision the frigate must take: to throw herself at a ship-of-the-line, even if of the smallest type, or to leave the merchantman to her fate. A frigate escort for just one merchant ship would see them safe against most, but a lone ship-of-the-line on passage would not be expected.}

_{'We'll soon see if we win more than a barrel of guineas in prize money,' Binney said significantly.}

_{This drew Poynter's immediate interest. 'How so — sir?'}

_{'Why, if the frigate sacrifices himself for the merchantman we'll know he's worth taking. And if that's so, we may well have a Spaniard on his way to the mines with mercury. I don't have to tell you, that means millions ...'}

_{His words flew along the gundeck, and soon the gunports were full of men peering ahead, chattering excitedly about their prospects. Another gun sounded above, but a stern chase would be a long one especially as Achilles had no chase guns that would bear so far forward, and with the French coast and safety lying ahead the Spaniard would take his chances.}

_{The Spanish frigate tacked about; the combined effect of the run downwind and her own working to windward towards them had brought her close - this tack would see her in a position to interpose herself between Achilles and her prey.}

_{'Stand to your guns!' bawled Binney. Kydd pulled back from the bright daylight into the sombre shades of the gundeck. All was in order, and he nodded slowly in satisfaction as he saw gun-captains yet again checking carefully the contents of their pouches, the quill tubes to ignite the main charge from the gunlock atop the breech, the spring-loaded powder horn for the priming.}

_{Kydd had been in ships that had sailed into batde to the sound of stirring tunes from fife and drum, but}

_{Achilles went into action in a lethal quiet, every order clear and easy to understand.}

_{His stomach contracted - as much from his delayed breakfast as anything. From his position on the centreline he could see everything that happened inboard, but nothing of the wider sea scene.}

_{But he could imagine: Achilles crowding after the merchantman, the frigate coming across between them, and in the best possible position for her — cutting across the bows of the ship-of-the-line and thereby avoiding her crushing broadside, and at the same time her own broadside would be ready to crash into Achilles's bow and rampage down the full length of the bigger ship.}

_{A cooler appreciation told him that this was not something that an experienced captain would allow, and Dwyer was nothing if not experienced. Going large, the wind astern, there was the greatest scope for manoeuvrability, and at the right moment he would haul his wind - wheel around closer to the westerly — to bring his whole broadside to bear on the hapless frigate. They would lose ground on their chase, but. . .}

_{'Starb'd first, then to larb'd,' Binney relayed. On the quarterdeck the captain had his plan complete: it was seldom that a ship fought both sides at once, and here they would be able to have the unengaged side gun-crews cross the deck to reinforce those in action. 'Mr Kydd, I want the best gun-captains to starb'd, if you please.'}

_{Kydd felt the ship turn, the sudden heel making the deck sway before she steadied. He tensed. There was a muffled shout from the main-hatchway, and Binney roared, 'Stand by!'}

_{Kydd braced himself, but these were only twenty-four-pounders; he had served great thirty-twos before now. At the gun closest to him he saw one of the new hands. His eyes were wild and his legs visibly shaking.}

_{The distant shout again, and instandy Binney barked, 'Fire!'}

_{The crash of their broadside with its deadly gunflashes playing through the smoke dinned on his ears, the smoke in great quantities filling the air. Up and down the invisible gundeck he heard the bellow of gun-captains as they whipped raw gun-crews into motion.}

_{They had got in their broadside first. Such a brutal assault from two whole decks of guns would utterly shatter the frigate - if they had aimed true. Kydd felt Achilles's stately sway as she resumed her course; this she would not be doing if they had failed.}

_{'Larb'd guns!' Having blasted the frigate to a standstill they would cross her bows and in turn deliver a ruinous raking broadside, while at the same time be resuming their pursuit.}

_{He folded his arms and smiled. There was little for him to do. Poynter and the other quarter-gunners could be relied on to keep up the fire: his duty was for the graver part of an action — if it was hot work, with casualties and damage, Kydd would need a cool mind acting as deputy to the lieutenant of the gundeck, to see through carnage and destruction to deploying men to continue the fight. But there was no chance of that now.}

_{Reload complete, the crews crossed to larboard and took position. 'Stand by!' Gun-captains crouched down, the handspikes went to work, the guns steadied and the gunlocks were held to the lanyard. Kydd pitied the helpless frigate somewhere out there on the bright morning sea, knowing what must be coming next. A cry from aft, and then Binney's 'Fire!’ The broadside smashed out — but a louder, flatter concussion overlaid the sound of the guns. Kydd's half-raised sleeve was rudely tugged away, sending him spinning to the deck. Then, the tearing screams and cries began.}

_{He picked himself up shakily, afraid for what he would see when the smoke cleared. His coat had been ripped right up the sleeve, which hung useless, and as the smoke gave way he saw a gun now lying on its carriage, split open along its length, the upper portion vanished. Wisps of smoke still hung sullenly over it.}

_{A small defect in casting deep within the iron of a gun, perhaps a bubble or streak of slag, had been sought out by the colossal forces of detonation and had failed, the rupture of metal spreading in an instant to burst the gun asunder.}

_{The cost to its crew was grievous. Those closest had been torn apart, bright scarlet and entrails from the several bloody corpses bedaubing deck and nearby guns, and all around the piteous writhing of others not so lucky, choking out their lives in agony.}

_{Flying pieces of metal had found victims even at a distance, and sounds of pain and distress chilled Kydd's blood. Binney stood further aft, swaying in shock, but he appeared untouched, staring at the slaughter.}

_{The gundeck had come to a stop, aware of the tragedy forward. Kydd felt for the unfortunates involved, but there was a higher imperative: out there was an enemy not yet vanquished, who could lash back at any time. There was no alternative: organise fire buckets of water to soak away body parts, rig the wash-deck hose to sluice away the blood but, above all, resume the fight.}

_{It was the worst possible luck — the easy success against the frigate was just what would have pulled Achilles's ship's company together and given point to their exercises, but now, and for a long time after, there would be flinching and dread in gun action.}

_{Fearfully, the men turned back to their battle quarters. Kydd went to a gunport and looked out: the shattered ruin of the frigate lay dead in the water, falling behind as Achilles remorselessly pursued the merchantman. If their own frigate had stayed with them instead of slipping away during the night she would be sharing in the prize.}

_{On deck they would be under a full press of sail; a stuns'l on the sides of every yard, all canvas possible spread, it would be a hard chase. Achilles was not a flyer but, then, neither was the merchantman, and all the time the coast of France was drawing nearer, already a meandering blue line on the horizon.}

_{It was late afternoon, when the coastline was close enough to make out details, that the drama concluded. On the merchant ship the unwise setting of sail above her royals had its effect: the entire mizzen topmast was carried away, tumbling down with all its rigging in a hopeless ruin. The vessel slewed up into the wind, and within minutes a single fo'c'sle gun on Achilles thumped out and in answer her colours jerked down.}

_{* * *}

_{Even on the main gundeck there was jubilation; a respectably sized prize lay to under their guns, and with not another ship in sight they would not have to share the proceeds. The launch was sent away with an armed party as happy speculation mounted about her cargo.}

_{But it was not the mercury, silver and other treasure that fevered imaginations had conjured. When the lieutenant of marines returned he hailed up at the quarterdeck from the'boat: 'Sir, I have to report, we've captured a Spanish general, Don Esturias de ... can't quite remember his whole name, sir.' There was a rumble of disappointed comment from the mass of men lining the ship's side.}

_{'He's accompanied by a company of Carabineros Reales,' he added. 'And their pay-chest.'}

_{An immediate buzz of interest began, headed off by the captain. 'My compliments to Don, er, to the general, and I'd be honoured to have him as my guest—'}

_{'Sir, the general does not recognise that he's been defeated in the field. He says - his aide says, sir, that he had no part in his own defence, and therefore he will stay with his faithful soldiers in what they must endure.'}

_{Dwyer glanced at the first lieutenant with a thin smile. 'Do you go to the ship and secure it, the troops to be battened down well — the general too, if he wants it.'}

_{'The pay-chest, sir?'}

_{'Leave it where it is for now. Take who you need to fish the mizzen topmast and we'll have a prize-crew ready for you later.'}

_{A satisfied Achilles shaped course north, into the night. By morning they would have the big French port of Brest under their lee; then it was only a matter of rounding Ushant and a direct course to England.}

_{During the night, vigilant eyes ensured their prize did not stray. The morning light shone on her dutifully to leeward, a heartening sight for the bleary-eyed middle-watchmen coming on deck for the forenoon exercise period.}

_{Just as Brest came abeam and Achilles was deep into three masts of sail drill, their prize fell off the wind, heeling over to starboard and taking up a course at right-angles to her previous one — towards the land. Above her stern, the White Ensign of England jerked down, and moments later proud Spanish colours floated triumphantly on the peak halliards.}

_{It was a bitter blow. The prisoners had risen during the night and taken the ship, but bided their time before completing their break.}

_{A roar of rage and disappointment arose from Achilles, but the run had been timed well, and it was long minutes before the ship could revert her exercise sail to running before the wind. There was no hope: sail appeared close inshore — it was common to see a French ship fleeing before an English predator and gunboats were always on hand to usher in the quarry. There was no chance they could haul up to their ex-prize in time. Achilles slewed round to send a frustrated broadside after her and slunk away, rounding irritably on an interested English frigate of the inshore squadron attracted by the gunfire. Yet again, the fortunes of war had conspired against them.}

_{The next day, in a bitter mood, Achilles sighted the grey point of the Lizard, the most southerly point of England, but Kydd's spirits soared. It had been so long, so far away, and now he was returning once more to his native soil, to the roots of his existence. It was only a lumpy blue line on the horizon ahead, but it meant so much.}

_{'Y'r folks are in Scotland, o' course, Tarn,' Kydd offered, seeing a certain distraction on his friend's face.}

_{Cockburn didn't answer at once, seeming to choose his words. 'Yes. In Penicuik — that's Edinburgh.'}

_{The ship made a dignified bow to one of the last Atlantic rollers coming under her keel; the shorter, busier waves of the Channel produced more of a nodding. There were sails close inshore, coasting vessels carrying most of the country trade of England with their grubby white or red bark-tanned canvas, and occasionally larger deep-sea ships outward bound or arriving after long ocean voyages.}

_{'You'll be lookin' t' postin' up, or will ye take the Leith packet?' Kydd hugged to himself the knowledge that Guildford was less than a day away by coach from Portsmouth - and this time he'd travel inside.}

_{'Perhaps neither. We won't be at liberty too long, I'll wager.' He wouldn't look at Kydd, who suddenly remembered that Cockburn had left his home and family as a midshipman, a future officer, but had yet to make the big step. It would not be a glorious homecoming, without anything to show for his years away, neither promotion nor prize money.}

_{Impulsively Kydd tried to reach out: 'Ye'll be welcome t' come visit the Kydds in Guildford, Tarn. We've a rare old—'}

_{'That's kind in you, Tom, but in Spithead I've a mind to petition for transfer to a frigate, if at all possible.'}

_{There were far better chances for promotion and prizes in a frigate rather than part of a fleet, but Kydd knew that his chances among all the others clamouring for the same thing were not good. He stayed for a space, then said, 'Best o' luck in that, m' friend,' and went forward: he didn't want his elation to be spoiled.}

_{Captain Dwyer paced grimly up and down the quarterdeck. 'What is the meaning of that damned Irish pennant?' he snarled at the boatswain, pointing angrily up at a light line tapping playfully high up on the after edge of the main topgallant sail. Welby snapped at the mate-of-the-watch and a duty topman swung into the shrouds and scrambled aloft. It would not do to be laggardly when Dwyer was so clearly in a foul mood.}

_{Dwyer stopped his pacing, and glared at Binney. 'I have it in mind to press some good hands, replace our prize crew.' These would now be in captivity — the lieutenant would in due course be exchanged, but the seamen had nothing but endless years of incarceration ahead, their captors knowing that trained seamen were far more valuable than any soldier to England.}

_'Sir.'

_{'We haul in one of your fat merchantmen - there, like that one,' he said, gesturing ahead at a large and deep-laden vessel anxiously crowding on all sail to get past the dangers alwaj's to be faced at the mouth of the Channel.}

_{'Inward bound, sir.'}

_{'Yes!' Dwyer snapped. 'You don't agree?' Binney was clearly uneasy at his position. 'Well, sir, this one could've been on passage six months, a year or more. Who knows what hazards and pains he's been through? And now, in sight of home, if we then—'}

_{'A damnation on your niceties, sir!' Dwyer's face was pale with anger. 'We're at war, it may have escaped your notice. Where else do you propose I get men? The quota? Debtor's jail?' His glare subsided a litde, but his tone remained hard. 'You will recollect, our people have been away from England all of two years — are they then to be pitied? No, sir!'}

_{He thrust his hands behind his back and snapped, 'Mr Binney, I desire you to ready a boarding party to press a dozen hands from that merchantman.' He saw the look on Binney's face and gave a hard smile. 'And I'll not be satisfied with less, damn it!'}

_{Kydd sat in the sternsheets of the boat with Binney. Six marines were also crowded into the small space, clutching their muskets and staring out woodenly. The bluff-bowed launch met the short, steep waves on her bow, occasionally sending spray aft.}

_{Kydd looked at Binney: pale-faced and thin-lipped, he was clearly out of sorts. If this was because they would soon be pressing men Kydd sympathised with his reservations: he had been a pressed man himself. But cruel and inhumane though it might be, the fleet had to be manned at a time when England herself stood in such peril. These merchant seamen had chosen to take the higher pay and quiet life while the navy stood guard over them. Now was the chance for some of them to play a real part.}

_{The merchant ship had been brought to with a gun, but she affected not to understand and stood on. It had taken dangerous jockeying for the big ship-of-the-line to draw abreast and to windward. This stole the wind from her and at the same time brought her close enough to be within hail. There had been an undignified exchange and another shot ahead of her bowsprit before the vessel had reluctantly gone aback.}

_{The launch bobbed and jibbed alongside. A rope ladder was finally thrown down and they boarded; the marines were sent up first, and Kydd followed. Heaving himself over the bulwarks he was confronted by a tight circle of hostile faces. Under the guns of a ship-of-the-line and the stolid line of marines there was no trouble expected, but he watched warily until the boarding party was all on deck.}

_{Binney introduced himself formally. 'Your papers, if you please, Captain,' he added politely.}

_{'Cap'n Heppel, barque Highlander of Bristol. From Callao, bound f'r London.' He wore an old-fashioned long coat and tricorne, and his tone was frosty as he reluctandy produced the papers. Binney inspected them carefully: pressing men from ships of the wrong flag could flare up into an international incident with unfortunate consequences for the officer responsible.}

_{Kydd looked around. A ship always had a domestic individuality that meant everything to a sailor, her litde ways at sea, her comfortable smells, the tiny compromises of living. This one had sailed continuously for six months or more; her ropes were hairy with use and her canvas sea-darkened to grey. There was evidence of careful repair of sea hurts and hard hours of endurance in some ocean storm far out to sea.}

_{Binney handed back the papers. 'In the name of the King, I ask you will muster your crew, Captain,' he said uncomfortably. 'We mean to have a dozen good hands from you.'}

_{'A dozen!' The owners of a merchant ship always kept crew to a bare minimum, and so many taken would mean grim and exhausting labour to work the ship for those left.}

_{'Yes, sir. My captain will not allow me to return without them.' Binney was discomfited, but stood by his orders, patiently waiting for a response.}

_{'It's an outrage, sir!' Heppel spluttered and moved to confront Binney. Kydd stepped up quietly beside his officer and the marines fingered their muskets. There was nothing this captain could do: under the law the ship could be stripped of all but the mates and apprentices.}

_{'All hands on deck,' Heppel flung over his shoulder.}

_{Kydd counted the sailors as they emerged from the hatches — just nineteen. It was impossible to work even a two-watch system with only these. There were more. He looked at Binney, who seemed to have come to the same conclusion. 'Come, come, sir, the sooner we have them, the sooner we shall leave.'}

_{The nineteen were a ragged bunch, their sea gear worn and threadbare from thousands of miles of long voyaging, their bodies hardened and browned. They gazed back warily, stoically.}

_{'Sir, ye want me t' go below, rouse 'em out?' Kydd said loudly. 'I know about th' hidey-holes an' all the tricks.'}

_{Binney appeared to be considering Kydd's words: the best seamen were obviously concealed below-decks, and his hesitation implied that if the navy men were led a merry dance then their officer might vindictively press more than his dozen. He let it hang until more appeared resentfully from below, shuffling into the group abaft the main-mast.}

_{Kydd thoughts stole away to his own ocean voyaging. These men had lived closely together, through dangers and hardships that, over the months at sea, would have forged deep respect and friendships the like of which a landlubber would never know — and now it would be ended, broken.}

_{Stepping forward, Binney addressed them. 'Now, my men, is there any among you who wish to serve England in the King's Service? As a volunteer, you are naturally entided to the full bounty.'}

_{This was a threat as much as a promise: unless they volunteered they would be pressed, and then they would neither get a bounty nor see much liberty ashore.}

_{Three moved forward. Kydd guessed the others did not join them because of the belief that if they were later caught deserting volunteers would be treated more harshly as having accepted money; the others could plead, with some justification, that they had been forced against their will.}

_{'Come on, lads, Achilles is only bound f'r Spithead an' a docking. Y're volunteers, an' there could be liberty t' spend y'r bounty. Good place f'r a spree, Portsmouth Point.'}

_{Another moved over. The rest shuffled sullenly together.}

_{'So. This means eight pressed men. Now who's it to be?' Binney was not to be put off by the stony hostility he met, and pointed to one likely looking young able seaman.}

_{'Apprentice!' snapped Heppel.}

_{'Y'r protection, if y' please,' Kydd said heavily, holding out his hand for the paper. A weak explanation for the absence of papers died at Kydd's uncompromising stare.}

_{The rest were quickly gathered in. There were several prime seamen who could look forward to a petty officer's berth if they showed willing, but one had Kydd's eyes narrowing — a sea-lawyer if he wasn't mistaken, probably a navy deserter who would give a 'purser's name', a false name, to the muster-book and would likely be the focus of discontents on the lower deck.}

_{'Get y'r dunnage then,' Kydd told the new-pressed hands. They went below to fetch their sea-chests and ditty-bag of small treasures, all they had to show for their endless months at sea.}

_{Binney signalled to Achilles: the cutter would take the chests and sea gear to their new home. 'Thank you, Captain,' he said courteously. 'We'll be on our way now.'}

_{Heppel said nothing, but his fists bunched.}

_{'Ah - ye'd be makin' up the pay, Cap'n?' Kydd asked quietly. It would suit some captains conveniently to forget wages for pressed long-voyage men and pocket the sum; it was the least Kydd could do to ensure they were not robbed.}

_{'Haven't the coin,' Heppel said truculently.}

_{'Then we'll accept a note against the owners,' Binney ' responded smoothly, and folded his arms to wait.}

_{The press catch mollified Dwyer — they were all seamen and would not take long to become effective in their posts. Achilles got under way and, under the brisk north-easterly, stood out into the Channel for the long board to Spithead.}

_{On the quarterdeck the atmosphere improved and Dwyer could be seen chatting amicably to the midshipmen. He turned leisurely to the officer-of-the-watch. 'Should you sight a fisherman, we'll take some fish for the people.'}

_{'A pilchard boat, sir,' the officer-of-the-watch reported later. The boat bobbed and dipped in the steep mid-Channel waves. Faces turned to watch the big warship approach and come aback as she drifted down on the fishing boat.}

_{'A Frenchy, sir.'}

_{'The fish tastes the same, does it not?' Dwyer said. It was an unwritten custom not to interfere with the fisheries, for among other things fishermen could be sources of intelligence. 'Pass the word for Mr Eastman.'}

_{The master was a Jerseyman and knew the Brittany language like a native. 'Tell 'em we'd be interested in a few baskets of pilchards if the price is right, if you please.'}

_{The transaction was soon completed: it was more profitable to tranship a catch at sea and continue fishing. The master leaned over the rail, gossiping amiably as baskets of fish were swayed inboard.}

_{He straightened abruptly. A few tense sentences were exchanged and then he strode rapidly over to Dwyer and whispered something urgendy to him. Conversations died away as curious faces turned towards them.}

_{Eastman returned quickly to the ship's side and spoke to the old fisherman again. Then he returned to Dwyer, his face grave. Dwyer hesitated and the two went below, leaving an upper deck seething with rumour.}

_{'Mr Kydd! Mr Kydd, ahoy - lay aft, if you please.' Binney's hail cut through Kydd's speculations about the situation with the boatswain and he went aft to the helm, touching his hat to the lieutenant.}

_{'We are to attend the captain in his cabin,' Binney said shortly, turning on his heel. Kydd followed into the cabin spaces. Strangely, the marine sentry had moved from his accustomed place at the door to the captain's day cabin and had taken position further forward.}

_{Binney knocked and, at the brisk 'Enter', tucked his hat under his arm and opened the door. In the spacious cabin Dwyer and the master stood waiting.}

_{'I have your word of Kydd's reliability,' Dwyer said curdy, looking at Binney.}

_{'Why, yes, sir, he is—'}

_{'Very well.' Dwyer looked disturbed, even hunted. 'What I have to say, you will swear not to divulge to a soul aboard this ship.' He looked first at Kydd, then at Binney.}

_{'Sir.' Wary and tense, Binney spoke for both of them.}

_{Dwyer's eyes flicked once more to Kydd. Then he said, 'The fisherman has sure knowledge of a danger to the realm that in all my experience I can say has never before threatened these islands.' He took a deep breath. 'The fleet at Spithead has refused duty and is now in a state of open mutiny. There is a red flag over every ship and they have set at defiance both the Admiralty and the Crown.' He wiped his brow wearily. 'The fisherman cannot be expected to know details, but he swears all this is true.'}

_{Kydd went cold. The navy — the well-loved and sure shield of the nation - infected with mad revolution, Jacobin plots? It was a world turned upside-down.}

_{'By God's good grace, we have been spared blundering into the situation, but we have to know more.'}

_{"The Plymouth squadron, sir?' The forward base was nearest the main French naval strength at Brest.}

_{'He's not sure, but thinks they may have gone over to their brethren.' Dwyer looked at the master.}

_{'Near as I c'd make out, sir.'}

_{Dwyer paused. 'I cannot risk this ship being overrun by mutineers. This is why I have sent for you, Mr Binney. I understand you come from these parts?'}

_{'Yes, sir. Our estate is in south Devon, some small ways east of Plymouth.'}

_{'Good. I desire you to land at a point on the coast with Plymouth near at hand, such that within a day you may enter the port in a discreet manner and make contact with the true authority, then to withdraw and report back to me. Now, do you know how this may safely be done?'}

_{Binney hesitated for a moment. Desperate mutineers would make short work of him if he was caught.}

_{He requested a chart. It was the standard approach to Plymouth, and he quickly found his place. 'Sir, to the east.'}

_'Wembury?'

_{'No, sir, that has an army garrison. Further to the east, past the Mewstones,' Binney said, bringing to mind the sea-mark of unusual conical rocks to the south-east of the port. 'Along the coast four or five miles. If I land here -' he indicated a small river estuary '— I'm out of sight on all sides, out in the country. I strike north about two hours and reach Ivybridge. This is on the highway and the posting house for the last change of horses before Plymouth, and there I can ride the Exeter stage into Plymouth.'}

_{'This seems a good plan. Well done, Mr Binney.'}

_{Eastman took a closer look at the chart. 'Hmmm, the Yealm and then the river Erme. Suggest you take the four-oared gig in, under sail.'}

_{'That will do — it's sand, and I'd be satisfied to reach as far up as Holbeton.'}

_{'Kydd, boat's crew. This is you and ... ?'}

_{'Poynter, sir, gunner's mate. An' one other. Let me think on it, sir.'}

_{Dwyer appeared satisfied. 'So we'll raise the coast at dawn, send the boat away, and hope to have you back before dark?'}

_{'Aye aye, sir,' said Binney quietly.}

_{'Then I don't have to remind you all that if this terrible news gets abroad . ..'}

_{In the chill of early dawn, Achilles stood in for the river Erme. The grey, formless land firmed and revealed its rugged character. It was strange to be so close to a perilous shore from which a big ship would normally keep well clear. Sails were backed and within minutes the gig had touched water. Binney and Kydd, with Poynter and a seaman, boarded and set the lug foresail and mizzen to bellying life.}

_{As Achilles got under way to assume position out to sea, the gig headed inshore. It was clear that Binney knew where he was: the small river estuary ending in a wide flat sprawl of sandy channels met the sea between a pair of bluffs. Binney took the biggest channel, following its sinuous course upstream, past dark woods, some isolated dwellings, steep pastoral idylls and at one point wispy effluvia of a lime kiln.}

_{It was dreamlike in the early morning to be passing from the vastness and power of the open sea to the enfolding quiet so close to the depths of the lovely English countryside, the farmland, grazing animals, orchards - and in a ship's boat. The smell of wild flowers, cows, cut hay and sun-warmed soil turned Kydd's mind irresistibly to memories of his youth and past summers in Guildford. It was difficult to reconcile where they were to the actuality of what they were doing.}

_{'Damn,' muttered Binney; the boat had touched sand. Poynter poled off with the boathook. The wind localised, becoming fluky and light; the sails were doused and oars shipped. Later the sand turned to flecked silt and then to dark mud, and it was at this point that Binney put the tiller over and brought their inland voyage to an end.}

_{'Yarnink Nowle,' Binney announced, coming up to a decaying timber landing place. It took Kydd some moments to realise that the words meant the place, not an order. It was a quiet wood down to the water's edge; a rough path headed steeply up out of sight into it. 'Kydd, with me, you men stay with the boat.'}

_{Kydd climbed over the gunwale and for the first time since Gibraltar had the good earth under his feet. They trudged up the steep, sinuous path, Binney leading and dressed in nondescript coat and breeches, while Kydd followed in as non-sea rig as he had been able to find.}

_{They left the wood to cross deep green fields with curious sheep, and Kydd looked at Binney, worried. 'The crew'll hear of th' mutiny fr'm the folks hereabouts.'}

_{Binney flashed a grin. 'Not here they won't. They know the navy and the press-gang in this part o' the world — they'll keep well away.' Kydd thought of the hard-faced Poynter, and grinned back.}

_{They crossed another field, ignoring a gaping milkmaid, and arrived at the back of a thatched-roof farmhouse. A dog barked once, then approached to nuzzle at Binney; a leather-gaitered yeoman appeared at the noise and stopped in surprise at seeing Binney. 'Well, whot be doing yer, Maister Binney?'}

_{Binney smiled. 'Is Jarge going for the post this morning?'}

_{'Eys, 'ee be saddlin' up thikky donkey.'}

_{Binney glanced triumphandy at Kydd. 'Nothing changes in the country - we'll be riding to Ivybridge.'}

_{Sitting on the end of the farm trap with legs dangling as it ground bumpily over the country track, Binney was youthfully spirited, nervous tension working with pleasure at the unexpected return to his roots.}

_{It was not far to Ivybridge. They passed two tiny villages on the well-worn road to the north and suddenly reached a crossroads. They dropped to the road from the trap, dusting down, and let the mystified farmer continue on his way.}

_{Binney took a deep breath. 'The London Inn — over by the river. The Exeter mail should be along by ten.' A soft whispering on the morning breeze strengthened until they reached its cause, the Erme river, a crystal clear boisterous rushing over moss-green rocks.}

_{The beauty and settled loveliness of the tiny hamlet reached out to Kydd; it seemed to belong to another world, one without blood and war, without the unthinkable threat of a fleet mutiny. His mind shied at the very notion — could it be, perhaps, just one of those endless wartime rumours?}

_{They tramped up the road beside the river towards a remarkably pretty humped bridge, set among a profusion of oaks and chestnuts and dappled with sunlight. On the left were some well-kept and dignified mansions; he glimpsed the name 'Corinthia' on one and wondered who could have had the fortune to live there in such a place of peace and beauty.}

_{They reached the London Inn on the other side of the dusty Plymouth turnpike; a smithy was already in industrious activity beside it, and osders readied horses in the post stables.}

_{'Mr Kydd, I'd be obliged should you wait for me here,' Binney said, his tone low and serious. 'If I do not return before evening, you are to return to Achilles and tell the captain.'}

_{'Aye aye, sir,' Kydd acknowledged. Without his naval officer's uniform Binney looked absurdly young for such a risky enterprise and all traces of his earlier animation were now gone. They remained standing awkwardly together under the gaudy inn-sign, the occasional passer-by curious at the presence of such a pair so out of keeping with Ivybridge.}

_{The coach finally came wheeling down the turnpike, and stopped with a brave crashing of hoofs and jingling of harness; snorting, sweaty horses were led out of their traces and fresh ones backed in, the horsy smell pungent in Kydd's nostrils.}

_{Binney climbed inside the coach, his grave face gazing out of the window. With hoarse bellows from the driver, the whip was laid on and the coach jerked into motion. Kydd had an urge to wave, but at the last instant made a sketchy naval salute. The coach clattered over the bridge and was gone.}

_{Kydd stood irresolute: it was hard to remain idle while others faced perils — it was not the navy way. He let the morning sun warm him, then sat on the bench outside the inn and felt the tensions seep away as he listened, with eyes closed, to the cheep and trill of country birds, the rustling of breezes in the hayfield close by, myriad imperceptible rustic sounds.}

_{His thoughts tumbled along: only hours before he had been at sea, now in longed-for England — but in such circumstances! Where was Renzi? Should he do something? Restless, he opened his eyes and got to his feet. It was getting towards noon and he was hungry. Perhaps he should take a meal.}

_{In the dark interior of the inn, all glinting brass and pewter, there was only one other, reading a newspaper in the corner. Kydd left him to it and settled in a high-backed bench, relishing the rich sickliness of ale on sawdust.}

_{'Bliddy blackguards!'}

_{As there was no one else in the room, Kydd leaned round. 'I beg y'r pardon?' he said mildly.}

_{'Thikky mut'neers, o' course,' the red-faced man said, shaking the newspaper for emphasis. His appearance suggested landed folk. Kydd caught the 'mutineers' through the round Devon accent and tensed. There was now no question of rumour, it was actuality. 'They'm maakin' fresh demands, tiz maize.'}

_'Demands?'

_{'Eys zertainly, where've 'ee bin th' last couple o' weeks?' the man said suspiciously.}

_{'Out o' the country,' Kydd said quickly. 'C'n I take a quick look, friend?'}

_{The man paused, then passed the paper across. 'Leave it yer when you be vanished, I'll zee 'ee dreckly avter.'}

_{Kydd snatched up the paper, The Times of London. The front page was all advertisements — 'A patent Oeconomic machine ...' and 'Marylebone Cricket Club, Anniversary Dinner . . .' Impatiently he turned the page. He wanted to see with his own eyes words that would tell him the navy was in revolution.}

_{'... the Jacobin papers have turned all their speculations ... to the meeting at Portsmouth .. .'}

_{'.. . notwithstanding all the idle and ignorant reports detailed in the Morning Papers of the day of the discontents at Portsmouth having been rapidly adjusted, we are sorry to say that no such good news has been received .. .'}

_{Kydd could hardly believe his eyes.}

_{'. .. the conduct of the seamen ... is reprehensible in the extreme . . .'}

_{'... Is any man sanguine as to think that Mr Fox could retrieve the general anarchy that threatens us?'}

_{He stared at the report. This was worse than he had feared, almost beyond credibility. Kydd sat back in dismay.}

_{A farmer entered, looking in Kydd's direction with a friendly grin, but Kydd could not talk: he turned his back on the man and read on. '. .. correspondence between the Board of Admiralty and Deputation of Seamen ...'}

_{The Admiralty reduced to treating with mutineers - it was unbelievable.}

_{He rose, feeling an urgent need to get outside into the bright sunlight. He found the bench, all thoughts of a meal dispelled, and read the report again.}

_{There was a deal of breathless comment on the audacity of the sailors, their conduct and a sinister, 'The success of the enemy in corrupting our brave Tars is truly formidable. What have we to expect, if we are not true to ourselves at this dreadful moment, when we are betrayed on every side?'}

_{He turned to the next page. It was in tiny print, and began: 'The Petition, or rather Remonstrance, of the sailors of Lord BRIDPORT'S fleet, is now before the Public, and we most sincerely wish that it was not our duty to publish it.' Underneath was column after column of the verbatim demands of the mutineers, apparendy printed under duress by The Times. Reluctantly, he continued to read.}

THE HUMBLE PETITION- of the SEAMEN and MARINES on Board His Majesty's Ships, in Behalf of Themselves. Humbly sheweth —

That the Petitioners, relying on the candour and justice of jour Honourable House, make bold to lay their grievances before you, hoping that when you reflect on them, you will please to give redress, as far as your wisdom will deem necessary ...

_{Kydd scanned ahead. A central issue emerged: a number of grievances specified not as a demand but a careful laying before their Lordships with a hope of redress'.}

_{Slowly he folded the newspaper. This was no sudden rising of seamen, this must be organised, deadly. Who or what was at the bottom of it all?}

_{'Sir, it is as we feared. Plymouth is now in the hands of the mutineers, and the ships have gone over, every one.' Binney was tired and distracted, but respectful before his captain, Kydd at his side. He had returned close-mouthed and abrupt, leaving Poynter and the seaman wondering.}

_{'Mr Binney, did you make your duty to the admiral's office?' Dwyer snapped. It was a crucial matter for him: his own conduct in the immediate future could well be examined later, but if there were orders . . .}

_{'I was unable, sir, but I do have this.' Binney fumbled inside his coat and handed over a document.}

_{Dwyer took it quickly. 'Ah, this is the admiral's seal. Well done, Mr Binney.' He tore open the paper and scanned the few words in haste. 'Thank God - here we have conclusive proof and assurance that the North Sea fleet and the Nore did not join the mutiny, and these are our orders to proceed there with all despatch.'}

_{Achilles leaned to the wind and, through a strangely deserted Channel, beat eastward. The Start, Portland Race and a distant Isle of Wight passed abeam, all treasured sights for a deep-sea mariner inward bound; Beachy Head loomed up, and past it was the anchorage of the Downs, protected to seaward by the Goodwin sands.}

_{Home - after such adventures as most could only dream of.}

_{At the North Foreland they tacked about and ran in to the estuary of the Thames, the sea highway to London, the keys to the kingdom.}

_{And the Nore. Soon after the low-lying marshy island of Sheppey spread across their course they came upon the unmistakable sight of a forest of black masts: the fleet anchorage of the Great Nore.}

_{Kydd saw them — it was not the first time for it was here those years ago, at the outset of the war, that he had first stepped on the deck of a man-o'-war. With a stab, he remembered that he had been a pressed man then, miserable, homesick and bitter, but now ... A reluctant smile acknowledged the thought that he had indeed returned home — to his original starting point.}

_{But the Nore was not a home to one of England's great battle fleets, it was a base for shelter, storing and repair, and an assembling point for the Baltic convoys, a working-up area for new vessels from the Chatham and Deptford shipyards and a receiving and exchange point for the continuous flow of unfortunates from the press-gang tenders and quota transports. It was a place of coming and going, of transience and waiting.}

_{In winter a northerly could bring a biting, raw wind for weeks on end, the only solace ashore the drab, isolated garrison town of Sheemess, a bleak place at the northerly tip of Sheppey. The town's sole reason for existence was the dockyard and garrison fort. The rest of the island was a place of marshes, decaying cliffs and scattered sheep pasture, an effective quarantine from England proper.}

_{Taking no chances, Achilles passed down the line of ships at anchor. No red flags, no mutinous cheering, only the grave naval courtesies of a ship rejoining the fleet Under greying skies the 64 found her berth and the great bower anchors tumbled into the muddy grey where the Thames met the North Sea, and she composed herself for rest.}

_{Chapter 6}

_{This Mr Evan Nepean, my lord. He will furnish you with as complete an account as you'd wish and - dare I say it? - more succinct in the particulars.' As a politician and not a seaman, the First Lord of the Admiralty was happy to turn over an explanation of the calamitous events at Spithead to the secretary: he knew the sea cant of the sailors in mutiny and would field the more delicate matters capably.}

_{'Very well, then,' said Lord Stanhope, easing himself wearily into one of the carved seats around the board table. 'Not the details, if you please, just the salient facts.' Stanhope had made an urgent return from Sweden at the news of the outbreak and was plainly exhausted. But his discreet journeyings abroad had earned him the ear of William Pitt, and it would be folly to underestimate his power.}

_{Nepean moved round the table the better to access the hanging maps above the fireplace. He pulled down one of Great Britain. 'As you will appreciate, sir, our concentrations of force for the defence of the kingdom are the Channel fleet here at Portsmouth to be directed against the French in Brest, and at Plymouth we find our advanced squadron. At Yarmouth we have the North Sea fleet, which looks directly into the Netherlands and the Baltic, and near there we have the Nore anchorage and the dockyard at Sheerness to victual and maintain them.}

_{'For some weeks prior to mid-April, discontent became apparent at Spithead, and on the fifteenth of April last this resulted in open mutiny; the seamen refused duty and the fleet was unable to proceed to sea. They are in such a state at this time, and unhappily have been joined in their mutiny by the Plymouth squadron.'}

_{'Is the situation stable?'}

_{'It appears so at the moment, my lord,' Nepean said carefully. 'The mutinous seamen are keeping good order and discipline, and await a resolution. However, I am not sanguine this will continue - in an unfortunate excess of zeal, blood was shed and the seamen are affronted.'}

_{Stanhope pondered. 'So as we speak, in essence, the approaches to these islands are entirely defenceless.'}

_{'The men talk of sailing to meet the French if they make a sally, my lord, and please note that — praise be - the Nore and North Sea squadron are left to us, they did not mutiny.'}

_{'Pray, why do they persist in their mutiny?'}

_{Nepean shot a glance at Earl Spencer — his was the responsibility for some kind of resolution - but the First Lord continued to regard him gravely, so he continued: 'My lord, they have a number of grievances which they demand find redress before they'll consent to any kind of return to duty.' 'And these are?'}

_{'The level of wages, of course, provisions served at short weight, no vegetables in port, that kind of thing.'}

_{Stanhope looked up with a cynical smile. 'And?'}

_{'Er, liberty in port and some oversight with the sick and wounded — and your lordship will no doubt recall that a couple of years ago the army were rewarded with an increase.'}

_{Frowning, Stanhope turned to Spencer. 'It seems little enough. Can we not . . .'}

_{'With the government's position the weaker for Lord Moira's unfortunate interference, any attempt on revenues will upset a delicate situation — we have suspended gold payments at the Bank of England, we are in dire need of every penny to buy off the Austrians, our last ally in all of Europe. Need I go further?'}

_{'Our entire standing in foreign chancellories is threatened, sir. Do you propose to allow the situation to continue indefinitely?'}

_{'No, my lord,' Spencer said heavily. 'We have compounded with the mutinous rascals for a substantial improvement in their pay, we have even secured a free pardon for this whole parcel of traitors, but still they will not yield.' He wiped his forehead wearily. 'They will not listen to Parliament, sir.'}

_{Nepean broke in: 'This is true, sir,' he said smoothly, 'but we have secured the services of Earl Howe to intercede for us with the sailors. He is to coach to Portsmouth shortly, with plenary powers.'}

_{'Earl Howe?'}

_{'Whom the sailors call "Black Dick". He led them to victory in the action of the Glorious First of June, and they trust him like a father.' A wintry smile appeared. 'It is our last resource. If he does not succeed .. .'}

_{Kydd stood in the foretop as one of the last rituals of the transition from live sea creature to one tethered and submissive was enacted. The sails were furled into a pristine harbour stow, the bunt taken over the yard into a graceful 'pig's ear' and plaited bunt gaskets passed to his satisfaction.}

_{He found himself looking up to take in the sombre brown cliffs and bleak seacoast of Sheppey over the mile or so of scurrying drab sea. Emotions of times past returned sharp and poignant. A great deal had happened since he had left home ...}

_{'Clap on more sail, if y' please, Mr Cantlie!' Kydd threw at the inboard seaman on the footropes. The sailor stared up resentfully but did as he was told. ‘Lay in,' Kydd ordered, when the furling was complete. The men came in off the yard and assembled in the foretop, but as they did so the piercing wail of calls from the boatswain's mates cut through. 'Haaaands to muster! Clear lower deck — all hands lay aft!'}

_{It appeared that Captain Dwyer would address his ship's company before going ashore to pay his respects to the admiral. It was unusual — minds would be set on the joyous sprees to be had ashore, and a bracing talk more properly belonged to an outward-bound voyage.}

_{Kydd took up his position, facing inwards midway between the officers aft on the poop-deck and the men crowding the main-deck forward, feet astride in an uncompromising brace.}

_{'Still? the master-at-arms roared. Muttering among the mass of men died away quickly, and the captain stepped forward to the poop-deck rail.}

_{'Men of the Achilles’ he began, then paused, surveying them grimly. The last shuffling of feet subsided: something was in the wind.}

_{'I have to tell you now the gravest news, which affects us all. I am talking about nothing less than the very safety of this kingdom and the survival of these islands.'}

_{He had total attention; some sailors had jumped into the lower rigging to hear him better. 'It is a stroke of war that the enemy have been able to achieve by cunning, treachery, and inciting our honest tars to treason.'}

_{Puzzled looks were exchanged: this was nothing like a hearty call to arms.}

_{Dwyer glanced at the stony-faced marine lieutenant, then continued: 'The news I will give may well come from others who do not have the true facts, which is why I am telling you now, so you have no reason to believe them.'}

_{Suspicious looks appeared, eyes narrowed.}

_{'It is my sad duty to have to inform you that your fellow seamen of the Channel fleet at Spithead have mutinied.' The suspicion turned to shock. 'In fact, the mutineers, led we believe by French agents, have joined together to hold Old England to ransom with a list of impossible demands that they have had the gall to inflict on Parliament this past week.'}

_{An appalled silence was followed by a rising hubbub. 'Silencer screamed the master-at-arms. His voice cracked with tension, and the marines fingered their muskets. The noise lessened, but did not fade entirely.}

_{'The fate of these blackguardly rogues you may guess. England will not forgive easily those who have so perfidiously betrayed their mother country, be assured.' His voice rose strongly. 'But do not you be gulled by free-talking scoundrels into thoughtless acts of treason, crimes for which only a halter at the yardarm is the answer. Your duty is plain before you — to your ship and His Majesty, no other!}

_{'Mr Hawley,' he called to the first lieutenant. 'Three cheers for His Majesty!'}

_{Hawley took off his hat and called loudly, 'M' lads, an huzzah for King George: hip, hip ...'}

_{The cheers were distracted and uncertain, however, and Dwyer's face creased into a frown. 'Three more for our ship!' he ordered. These cheers were somewhat louder, but to Kydd's ears they sounded mechanical and lacking in spirit.}

_{The captain waited for them to die, then continued evenly, 'I'm going ashore now. Mr Hawley will prepare your liberty tickets while we see about your pay. Carry on, please.'}

_{Achilles's ship's company went to their noon grog in a ferment of anticipation. The talk of pay was promises only, but liberty ashore in an English port, however barren, after so long in foreign parts would be sweet indeed.}

_{The more thoughtful reflected on the danger to the realm of the British fleet in a state of insurrection. Individual ships had mutinied before, the most prominent the Bounty less than ten years earlier, but this was a planned wholesale rising — who or what could be behind it?}

_{At six bells the captain went ashore with all ceremony to make his number with the port admiral, Vice Admiral Buckner, and the ship setded to harbour routine. In the main this consisted of a controlled bedlam, a mix of those happy souls making ready to step ashore to taste the dubious delights of Sheerness and others whose duties kept them aboard.}

_{The arrival of a big ship was always a gratifying sight to those shoreside, and it was not long before Achilles became the focus of a host of small craft coming round Garrison Point. Kydd sighed. He knew what was coming and, as mate-of-the-watch to Lieutenant Binney, he would have most to do with it.}

_{Binney was on call below. Alone on the quarterdeck, Kydd watched as the hordes converged. He had made all the dispositions he could — boarding nettings were rigged below the line of the gunports, as much to deter desertion as unwanted visitors; gear had been triced up to allow more deck space, the guns run out to broaden the width of gundecks; and canvas screens rigged on the lower deck.}

_{'Here they come, the saucy cuntkins!' piped a midshipman in glee.}

_{'Clap a stopper on it, young 'un!' Kydd growled. 'M' duty to Mr Binney, an' they'll be alongside presently.'}

_{Binney came up just as the first boats arrived at the side-steps. 'One at a time, and they're to be searched,' he said, in a bored tone. Men lined the side, chuckling at their prospects.}

_{Kydd motioned at random to one of the boats. It responded with alacrity and the woman at the oars made a dextrous alongside. She hoisted a basket of goods to her head and, grabbing the manrope, easily mounted the side, leaving a companion to lie off on her oars. 'An' the best o' the day ter yez.' She bobbed familiarly at the lieutenant. Chubby, and of invincible cheeriness, she submitted to the cursory search with practised ease, then pushed through the gathering sailors to set up position forward for her hot breads, pies and oranges. Others came aboard, some with trinkets, several with ingenious portable workbenches for tailoring, cobbling and leatherwork, and still more with cash-boxes ready to take a seaman's pay-ticket and change it — at ruinous discount — into hard cash.}

_{More crowded aboard. The master-at-arms and ship's corporals were hard put to keep up with the stream. The hubbub grew, and Kydd stepped back for the sanctity of the quarterdeck just as the master-at-arms thrust an arm under a fat woman's dress.}

_{''That f'r yer cat's piss, m' lovely!' he snarled triumphantly. The squeal of indignation faded into the embarrassment of discovery as a knife cut into a concealed bladder and cheap gin flooded into the scuppers.}

_{'Heave her gear overside,' Binney ordered, and to mingled shouts . of protest and derision her tray of gewgaws sailed into the sea. The gin was destined for sale below decks and Kydd suspected from the growing merriment that other sources had already found their way there.}

_{'Sweethearts 'n' wives, sir?' Kydd asked Binney.}

_{'Cap'n's orders are very clear,' Binney replied, with a frown. 'Wives only, no pockey jades to corrupt our brave tars.' The master-at-arms raised his eyebrows but said nothing. Binney turned and left the deck to Kydd. The officers would now retreat to their wardroom and cabin spaces, and in time-honoured fashion the ship would be turned over to the men and their wives of the day.}

_{'They shows their lines,' ordered Kydd. There would be some genuine wives; the rest would carry unimpeachable marriage lines, obtainable for a small fee ashore. But this fiction served to demonstrate to an increasingly prim public ashore that HMS Achilles was taking its responsibility seriously concerning the traffic in women's bodies.}

_{He walked to the side and beckoned the waiting outer circle of watermen's boats. They bent to their oars with a will, the bulwarks lined with sailors lewdly urging them on.}

_{It was as much to reduce numbers aboard as anything, but as practical senior of the watch he had the dubious honour of selecting those allowed to entertain Achilles men. The invading crowd swarmed aboard, modesty cast aside as the women clambered over the bulwarks. It was hard on the watermen; those whose passengers were rejected must return them ashore, a good mile or more and not a sixpence in it for their trouble.}

_{The lucky ones pranced about on the pristine decks. A fiddle started on the foredeck and an impromptu dance began about the foremast. Feminine laughter tinkled, roars of ribaldry surged — the stern man-o'-war lines of Achilles melted into a comfortable acquiescence at the invasion.}

_{Real wives were easy to spot: often with awed children, they bore lovingly prepared bundles and a look of utter disdain, and while they crossed the bulwarks as expertly as their rivals, they were generally swept up in a big hug by a waiting seaman. Some were told, 'Forrard on the gundeck, m' dear,' from a gruff master-at-arms. Their spouses being on duty, there they would find a space between a pair of cannons, made suitably private with a canvas screen, the declared territory of a married couple.}

_{It was nearly six bells; when eight sounded and the evening drew in Cockburn would relieve Kydd, and he could retreat to the gunroom. The midshipman's berth was, however, only too near and it would be a noisy night.}

_{Cockburn came on deck early: harbour watches were a trial for him, the necessary relaxation of discipline and boisterous behaviour of the seamen hard on his strait-laced Scottish soul.}

_{'What cheer, Tarn? Need t' step ashore? Cap'n wants t' get a demand on the dockyard delivered b' hand f'r a new wash-deck pump. Ship's business, o' course, gets you off the ship f'r an hour.'}

_{'In Sheerness?' Cockburn retorted scornfully. Kydd was looking forward to getting ashore and seeing something of the local colour, but Cockburn remained glum.}

_{'Join me in a turn around below-decks afore I hand over the watch,' he said to the young man, trying to draw him out of himself. 'Younker, stand by on the quarterdeck,' he threw at the bored duty midshipman. The rest of the watch were together around the mizzen-mast swapping yarns, a token number compared to the full half of the ship's company closed up at sea.}

_{They strode off forward, along the gangways each side of the boat space. 'Clear 'em off forrard,' Kydd said, to a duty petty officer following, who duly noted in his notebook that the wizened crone and the young child selling cheap jewellery on a frayed velvet cloth should be moved forward to clear the gangways.}

_{The foredeck was alive with cheerful noise. Traders, expert in wheedling, had set out their portable tables and were reluctandy parting with gimcrack brass telescopes, scarlet neckcloths, clay pipes and other knick-knacks that were five times their price ashore.}

_{By the cathead another basket of fresh bread was being hauled up from a boat. Teamed with a paper pat of farmhouse butter and a draught from a stone cask of ale, it was selling fast to hungry seamen.}

_{A cobbler industriously tapped his last, producing before their very eyes a pair of the long-quartered shoes favoured by seamen going ashore, and a tailor's arms flew as a smart blue jacket with white seams and silver buttons appeared.}

_{All appeared shipshape forward, and Kydd grunted in satisfaction. Beyond the broad netting, the bare bowsprit speared ahead to the rest of the ships at anchor.}

_{Cockburn indicated the old three-decker battleship moored further inshore, 'ifo'll never see open water again.' Stripped of her topmasts and running rigging, her timbers were dark with age and neglect; her old-fashioned stern gallery showed little evidence of gold leaf, and green weed was noticeable at her waterline.}

_{'Aye, Sandwich — she's th' receiving ship only,' Kydd answered. Too old for any other work, she acted as a floating prison for pressed men and others.}

_{'Do you know then who's the captain of the sixty-four over there?' Cockburn asked.}

_{'Director} No, Tarn, you tell me!'}

_{'None else than your Cap'n "Breadfruit" Bligh, these five years avenged of his mutiny.' He paused impressively.}

_{Kydd did not reply: in his eyes Bligh should have been better known for his great feat of seamanship in bringing his men through a heroic open-boat voyage without the loss of a single one. He turned abruptly and clattered down the ladder to the open boat-space on the upper-deck.}

_{Sitting cross-legged on the fore-hatch gratings, a fiddler sawed away, his time being gaily marked by a capering ship's boy with a tambourine weaving in and out of the whirling pairs of sailors and their lasses. Some of the women wore ribbons, which the men took and threaded into their own jackets and hats.}

_{Groups gathered near the fore-mast playing dice, perched on mess-tubs; others tried to read or write letters. The whole was a babble of conviviality and careless gaiety.}

_{Kydd looked about: there was drink, mainly dark Kent beer but not hard spirits. So far there was no sign of real drunkenness - that would come later, no doubt. Groups of men, probably from other ships, were in snug conversation at mess tables further aft. Ship-visiting was a humane custom of the service and even if liberty ashore was stopped acquaintances with former shipmates could be pleasantly renewed.}

_{But as he moved towards them, the talk stopped and the men turned towards him warily. 'Lofty.' He nodded to Webb, a carpenter's mate.}

_{The man looked at him, then the others. 'Tom,' he said carefully.}

_{'Nunky,' Kydd greeted an older able seaman.}

_{There was the same caginess. 'Yes, mate?'}

_{The seamen looked at him steadily. The visitors were clearly long-service and showed no emotion. Kydd shrugged and moved down the fore-hatchway to the gundeck, the lower of the two lines of guns, and to the screened-off areas for the married men along the sides of the deck between each pair of cannon. There was an air of an unexpected domesticity, ladies gossiping together on benches along the midline of the deck, brats scampering about. A dash of colour of a bunch of flowers and the swirl of dresses added an unreality to the familiar warlike nearness of the gundeck. Kydd answered the cheery hails of some with a wave, a doff of his hat to others, and passed aft, happy there would be no trouble there.}

_{A final canvas screen stretched the whole width of the deck. Kydd lifted it and ducked beneath. In the way of sailors, girls they had taken up with in this port before became 'wives' again for their stay. But in deference to real wives they were not accorded the same status or privacies. In hammocks, under hastily borrowed sailcloth between the guns, the men consorted with their women, rough humour easing embarrassment}

_{Kydd moved on, eyes steadily amidships, alert for the trouble that could easily flare in these circumstances. Then down the hatchway to the orlop — the lowest deck of all. In its secretive darkness anything might happen. He kept to the wings, a walkway round the periphery, hearing the grunts and cries from within the cable tiers. It was a harsh situation, but Kydd could see no alternative; he would not be one to judge.}

_{On deck again he was passed a note by a signal messenger. 'Fr'm offa bumboat, Mr Kydd.'}

_{It was addressed to the officer-of-the-watch. Kydd opened it. It was in an unpractised but firm round hand:}

Dere Sir,

I humblie pray thet yuo will bee so kind as too allow my dere bruther, Edward Malkin, be set ashor on libbertie. Whyle he was at see, his muther dyed an I must aqaynt him of itt. Iff yuo find it in jor harte to lett him on shoar to the atached adress he will sware to repare back on bord tomorow afor cok-crow.

Yor servent, sir

Kitty Malkin Queen Street Sheerness

_{Kydd's heart sank. There had not been so many deaths on} Achilles's _{commission, but Ned Malkin's had been one, a lonely end somewhere in the night after a fall from a yardarm into an uncaring sea. His pay had stopped from that hour; Kydd hoped that the family were not dependent on it.}

_{The captain had not yet returned with the admiral's sanction to shore-leave, and no one could go ashore, except on ship's business.}

_{He stared across the grey sea to the ugly sprawl of Sheerness at the tip of the island. The least he could do while he was delivering the dockyard demand was call and gently extinguish false hopes. As he gazed at the land he imagined a forlorn soul looking out across the stretch of water, silendy rehearsing the words of grief she would have to impart.}

_{Folding the paper and sliding it into his coat, he said, 'Tarn, you have th' ship. L'tenant Binney is in the wardroom. I'm takin' a boat to the dockyard.'}

_{As he watched the modest ramparts of the garrison fort rise above grey mud-flats, the low marshy land stretching away on Sheppey island as well as across the other side of the Medway, the isolation of the place settled about Kydd. Even when they rounded the point and opened up a view into the dockyard, the bleakness of Sheerness affected his spirits.}

_{The dockyard itself was concentrated at the Thames-ward tip of Sheppey, the usual features easily apparent — a ship under construction on the stocks, a cluster of hulks further along and countless smoky buildings of all sizes and shapes. An indistinct clamour of activity drifted across the water as the cutter went about and headed in to a mud-dock.}

_{The last of the tide had left the stone steps slippery with weed, and Kydd stepped carefully ashore, finding himself to one side of a building slip. His experience in a Caribbean dockyard did not include new ships and he looked up at the towering ribbed skeleton with interest.}

_{Direcdy ahead, across the dusty road, were the dockyard offices. These had seen many a naval demand and Kydd was dealt with quickly. He was soon out again in the scent of fresh-planed timber and smithy fumes.}

_{He gathered his thoughts. The dockyard was not big: he would find where the Malkin family lived fairly quickly, then get it over with. While still in the boat he had seen a sizeable huddle of houses just outside the gates, and guessed that this would be where most lived.}

_{It was not far — between the saw-pits and clangour of the smith's workshop, past more graving docks, one holding a small frigate with cruel wounds of war, and then to the ordnance building with its gun-wharf adjacent. Finally there was the extensive mast pond and, out from it, half a dozen sizeable hulks close to each other.}

_{The gates of the dockyard were manned by sentries, but they merely looked at him with a bored expression. A master's mate would never be asked for a liberty ticket. 'D' ye know where I c'n find Queen Street?' he asked.}

_{One man scratched his jaw. 'Doan think I know that 'un,' he said, after a pause. 'This 'ere is Blue Town, yer knows,' he said, gesturing to the mean streets and ramshackle dwellings that crowded close after the drab burial ground. 'Ye c'n get anythin' yer wants there,' he said, eyeing Kydd curiously.}

_{Kydd started off down the rutted street, which passed along the boundary of the garrison. A crazy web of litde alleys intersected it and a stench of sewerage and decay was on the air. Blue Town was not the kind of area to be graced with street signs. The barefooted urchins were no help, and his shoes spattered mud over his coat. As the settlement thinned into marshland Kydd saw the road wind away across the marshes into a scatter of far-off buildings he assumed was Sheerness town.}

_{It was time to return; he had tried. He trudged back, irritated. At the gate, the sentry stopped him. 'Oi remember, naow. What yer wants is Queen Street on th' Breakers.'}

_{The other sentry tut-tutted wisely. 'Shoulda known.' At Kydd's look he added hastily, 'That's all them 'ulks a-floatin' out there - proper town they has on 'em, streets an' all.'}

_{There were prison hulks in Portsmouth for prisoners-of-war and the assembling of convicts for the miserable voyage to Botany Bay, but Kydd had never heard of ships being used as formal accommodation. On looking closer he was impressed: built over with roofs, chimneys everywhere and commodious bridges between them, in the evening light they were a curious species of goblin rookeries, neat and well cared-for.}

_{He mounted the first bridge out to a two-decker: the whole upper-deck was built over, all guns had been removed and a row of 'houses' lined the sides of the 'street'. Each house had tubs of plants, white-painted pebbles, picked out window-frames, and in front of him was a scarlet and green street sign: 'George Street'. A cheery soul told him that Queen Street was in the next vessel, and Kydd passed across, daring a peep into one window where places were being laid for an evening meal in a room as snug as any to be seen on dry land.}

_{The message gave no street number, but there were painted name-boards on each door. Kydd found one marked 'Malkin' and knocked.}

_{The door squeaked open and a young woman appeared, in a pinafore and mob cap. 'Oh!' she said faintly, at Kydd's uniform.}

_{Her blue eyes had a softness that was most fetching. 'Er, Thomas Kydd, master's mate o' Achilles' he said gendy. 'An' you must be Miss Kitty Malkin?'}

_{Her hand flew to her mouth. 'Yes, I am, sir,' she said. 'It's about Edward!' she blurted. 'He's in trouble, isn't he, an' can't get ashore?' The eyes looked at Kydd appealingly. 'It's been a long time, sir, to be away . . .'}

_{'C'n I speak to y'r father, if y' please?' Something about his manner alarmed her. 'Whatever has t' be said to m' father can be said to me, sir.' Kydd hesitated.}

_{'Then please t' step inside, sir.' Kitty opened the door wide to allow Kydd to enter. It was a tiny but neat and pleasing front room, rugs on the floor, sideboard displaying treasured china and some bold portraits on the wall; Kydd thought he could recognise Ned Malkin in one set about with crossed flags and mermaids. A polished table was half set for an evening meal — there was only one place.}

_{'Pray be seated, sir,' she said, her eyes never leaving his. The two cosy chairs were close to each other and Kydd sat uncomfortably.}

_{'It's kind in you to come visit,' she said. Her hands were in her lap, decorous and under control.}

_{'Ned - a taut hand,' he began.}

_{'Is he in y'r watch, sir?' she asked. It was odd to hear a woman familiar with sea terms.}

_{'No, but I've seen him in the tops in a blow, right good seaman .. .' Kydd tailed off.}

_{She picked up on his hesitation. Her face went tight. 'Somethin's happened to Ned, hasn't it?' She sat bolt upright, her hands twisting. 'I c'n see it in your face, Mr Kydd.'}

_{Kydd mumbled something, but she cut it short. 'Y' must tell me — please.'}

_{'I'm grieved t' have to tell ye, Miss Kitty, but Ned's no more.'}

_{Her face whitened in shock. 'H-how did it happen? Fever? But he was always so strong, Ned . . .'}

_{'It was a tumble fr'm a yardarm at night.' There was no need to go into details; the utter darkness, everything done by feel up in the surging rigging, the hand going out and clutching a false hold and a lurch into nothing until the shock of the sea. Then, seeing the ship's lights fade into the night and the lonely horror of realising that, no matter how hard the struggle, the end must surely come — minutes or long hours.}

_'Wh-when?'

_{'Jus' two nights afore we made soundings,' he said. No more than a week or so ago, Ned Malkin could be seen on the mess-deck enjoying his grog and a laugh, spinning a yarn on deck on a night watch . . .}

_{For a long while she stared at him, then her face sagged. She glanced just once at the picture on the wall. 'Thank you f'r coming, sir — many wouldn't,' she said, in a small voice.}

_{The moment hung, stretching out in a tense silence that seemed to go on for ever. Faint sounds penetrated from the outside. Kydd cleared his throat, and made to rise. 'Ah, must return on board,' he muttered.}

_{She rose as well, but came between him and the door. 'Can I offer you refreshment, er, some tea?' There was pleading in her eyes, and Kydd knew he couldn't leave her to her grief just then.}

_{'Oh, a dish o' tea would be mos' welcome, Miss Kitty.'}

_{She didn't move, however. Her white face was fixed on his. 'Since Mama died, m' father went back t' Bristol to work for his brother.' He wondered why she was telling him. 'An' here I work in the dockyard — I sew y'r flags 'n' bunting, y' see. I like it, being near th' ships and sea — to see Ned sail away t' his adventures . ..' Her eyes suddenly brimmed, then the tears came, hot and choking, tearing at Kydd's composure.}

_{He stood, but found himself reaching for her, pulling her close, patting her and murmuring meaningless phrases; he understood now the single place at table. She was on her own — and asking for human comfort.}

_{Night had fallen, and Kydd could see lights on other vessels through the curtained gunport. Her arm was still over his chest as they lay precariously together on the small bedstead. Kitty's fine blonde hair tumbled over his shoulder; her female form discernible under the coverlet.}

_{She murmured something indistinct, turning to Kydd and reaching for him. He responded gendy, wondering at the dream-like transition from comforting to caring, to intimacies of the heart and then the body.}

_{So instinctive had it been that there was no need for modesty as she rose, pulling her gown around her and trimming the small light. She turned to face him. 'I'd take it kindly, Thomas, if you'd tell me more about Ned an' Achilles? she said.}

_{'A moment, Kitty, if y' please.' Kydd swung out, retrieving his shirt and trousers, needing their dignity. Achilles is a ship-of-the-line—'}

_{'A sixty-four.'}

_{'But not a big 'un, so we gets to see parts o' the world the fleets never do.'}

_{'Ned says . .. said, that Achilles was bigger 'n' any frigate, could take on anything that swims outside th' thumpers in a fleet.'}

_{'That's in the right of it, but it means we get more convoy duty than any, 'cos o' that.' He stopped. 'Er, Kitty, d'ye think y' could get some scran alongside?' he asked sheepishly. He had not eaten since the morning.}

_{'O' course, m' dear,' she said brightly, then paused. 'As long as ye're back aboard b' daybreak, you'll be safe 'n' snug here.' There was only the slightest inflection of a question.}

_{'Aye, that I will, thank ye.'}

_{When Kydd went aboard Achilles the next morning it was drizzling with a cutting north-easter. Liberty for all had been granted the previous evening so there was no}

_{need to explain his absence, although Binney regarded him quizzically as he reported.}

_{He hunched in his oilskins as the rain drummed, watching a bedraggled and sullen group of sailors bring down a topmast from aloft. Normally a seamanlike evolution, now it was an awkward and sloppy display from a fuddled crew. The refined tones of the first lieutenant through his speaking trumpet crackled with irritability, but a hastily applied hitch on rain-slick timber might slip — then the spar would spear down and there would be death in the morning.}

_{After a false start, the fore topmast lay safely on deck, and Kydd was able to dismiss the wet men. He stayed on the deserted fore-deck; although the women had been sent ashore the mess-decks were just as noisy and he needed solitude for a while, thinking of what had passed.}

_{There was no question: Kitty understood - they both did — that what had happened was spontaneous, impetuous, even, and nothing could be implied in the situation.}

_{His eyes focused on a boat approaching in the drizzle. Most bumboats were huddled into the ship's side under their tarpaulins, but this one was a naval longboat, four oars and a couple of seaman passengers aft. Probably more ship-visiting, but Kydd was uneasy: these were not jovial shipmates but a sober, purposeful crew.}

_{They came aboard, quietly removing their hats and reporting to the officer-of-the-watch before moving quickly below. That this was shortly before the noon dinner — and issue of grog — was probably not of consequence, but with the main battle fleet in open mutiny in Spithead, nothing was above suspicion.}

_{As usual, at the meal, he made it his duty to take a turn round the mess-tables, available, but listening, alert for trouble. The fife had played 'Nancy Dawson' with its cheery tumpity-tump on a drum for the issue of grog, the sailors had welcomed the arrival of rum-darkened mess kids, and the high-point of the day began.}

_{But there was something amiss — a jarring note; Kydd couldn't sense what it was. He saw Farnall, the educated quota man, whom he sensed would always be on the fringes of trouble. Kydd walked over to his table - the same wary silence, the faces following him. He passed by, his easy 'What cheer?' to Lofty Webb only brought a frightened swivelling of eyes.}

_{He reached the end of the mess-deck. Out of the corner of his eye Kydd saw movement, and turned. Farnall's table sat motionless, looking at him. A piece of paper slowly fluttered to the deck. No one moved.}

_{Talk died at nearby tables. He picked up the paper. It was badly printed and well creased, but it began boldly: 'Brother Tars! Who hath given all for the cause of yr countrys freedom! Now is the time ...' Kydd's eyes lifted slowly, a red flush building. 'Whose is this?' he said thickly. The mutinous tract must have been brought aboard from someone in touch with the Spithead mutineers.}

_{Not a man stirred. They met his eyes steadily, neither flinching nor wavering, yet possession of a seditious document was sufficient evidence of treasonable intent whatever the circumstance. Then it dawned upon him: they had wanted him to read it. Cold anger replaced his uncertainty. 'Y' heard y'r captain — take notice o' this jabberknowl an' ye'll all be dancin' at the yardarm afore y' knows it.' In the sea service, mutiny was the one unforgivable crime, a swift court-martial and death a sure end for the offender. To see shipmates stark and still at the end of a rope for a moment's foolishness would be heartbreaking.}

_{He glared at them, and met nothing but a stony gaze. His duty was plain and explicit: he should seize the culprit and haul him aft for just punishment. But which one was it? He hesitated. He went to rip up the paper but something stopped him and he stuffed it lamely into his waistcoat.}

_{'Ye're all under m' eye fr'm this hour. That's you, Nunky, an' Lofty — you too, Farnall, 'n' don't think t' practise y'r sea-lawyer ways aboard Achilles. We're true man-o'-war's men in this barky.' He had the satisfaction of seeing Jewell's eyes flicker and a quick look of appeal from Webb to Farnall.}

_{Kydd stalked away in the tense silence, hearing the low, urgent rumble of talk behind him. His mind cooled: it was clear that agents of the Spithead mutineers were at work aboard Achilles. He must bring this to the quarterdeck; but curiosity made him head first for the master's sea cabin, which he knew was empty as Eastman was ashore. Guiltily, he drew out the paper to read.}

_{He scanned quickly past the wordy patriotic protestations, snorting at the references to victims of tyranny and oppression and laws of humanity. It went on to claim the support of Charles Fox — Kydd's father had a sympathy for the radical, he remembered, but Kydd had minimal interest in politics: that was a task for the gentlemen of the land, not him.}

_{He read further — pampered knaves in power at Westminster, His Majesty ill advised by them ... The substance of what the mutiny was said to be about was much the same as he had read in The Times. But what had his eyes returning time and again was one ringing sentence: 'In all humanity is it a wrong to ask for bread and ah honest wage, that it is a crime that must be paid for at the yardarm?'}

_{He could think of no easy answer, and fell back weakly on the reply that if it was the law of the land then that was how it must be.}

_{Carefully he folded the tract. His head told him to take the poisonous scrap aft immediately, but his heart urged him to settie things in his own mind first. He hesitated. The rain had stopped and he stepped out on deck among a general resumption of noisy quarrelling and laughing humanity. It was hard to think anything through under conditions like this.}

_{If only Renzi was on hand the whole question could be logically teased out to its only possible conclusion . .. But Renzi was part of the past. Now he must make his own judgements.}

_{He roused himself: in his place what would Renzi have done? Discuss it logically. With whom? Not Cockburn, he was an officer-in-waiting, and had no way of knowing the strengths and good sense to be found before the mast -his answer would be short and implacable. The master? A long-service man of the sea with only a few years before his well-earned retirement ashore.'Then who?}

* * *

_{'So nice in you, m' love, to call, but if you're going t' stay f'r supper, then I must send for some vitdes.' Kydd setded back in the chair, cradling his china mug of porter — it had on it a colourful pair of handsome sailors each side of crossed flags and 'Success to the Formidable, and damnation to the French!' in gold lettering beneath.}

_{She had been pleased to see him, that was clear; pleasure and guilt in equal measure came to him at her warm embrace. In an awkward, masculine way he sensed that a woman could accept a situation for what it was without the need for logical justification.}

_{He drew out the tract, holding it gingerly. "This'n was found on the mess-decks earlier.'}

_{She took it with a questioning glance, and read slowly with a frown of concentration, her lips moving as she spelled out the words. As their import became clear, her brow lightened. 'Someone is takin' the sailor's part at last,' she said happily. 'I know about th' vitdes an' such, Ned told me, so I know it's true what they say.'}

_{'Kitty, m'dear, what you are holdin' is an incitement t' mutiny an' treasonable — it c'n cost a man his neck.' She stared at him uncertainly. 'It's m' duty to hale aft any I fin' with this. An' then it's a court-martial an' the rope . . .'}

_{She looked at him, incredulous. 'Ye're tellin' me that y'd see a man choked off f'r this?' she said, shaking the grubby paper at him.}

_{Kydd shifted uncomfortably. 'It's m' duty, as I said.' He could have mentioned the Articles of War and their savage view of sedition and treasonable writings, but it seemed beside the point.}

_{Her look hardened. 'I don't need t' remind you, Mr Thomas Kydd, what it's like t' go before th' mast in the navy. So when some gullion says as how it is, where's y' great crime? Tell me!'}

_{'Don't ask me that, Kitty, it's not f'r me to say,' Kydd said, in a low voice. 'All I know is, the fleet's in open mutiny at Spithead, an' if the French sail'}

_{'Then they'll sail 'n' fight, they've promised that,' she said scornfully.}

_{Kydd looked at her with a frown. 'Kitty, ye know a lot about this.'}

_{'Aye!' she said defiantly. 'There's those who think t' make the journey all the way fr'm Portsmouth t' the Nore just to let their brother Jack Tars know what's happening.'}

_{'They're here, now?'}

_{'Cruise along t' the Chequers Inn one night, and could be ye'd hear somethin' will get you thinking.'}

_{Her face was uncompromising in its conviction, and in it he saw an unspoken rebuke for his lack of involvement.}

_{Before he could speak, she thrust another paper at him, printed as a broadsheet but somewhat smudged. 'It's a petition, asking f'r redress. Sent t' Black Dick Howe three months ago, an' it was not th' first. Read it!'}

_{Before he had covered the preliminaries she was on the offensive. 'Provisions at sixteen ounces to th' pound! Common liberty t' go about y'r pleasures ashore! T' be paid while you're lyin' wounded in th' service of y' country!' She sniffed loudly. 'Stap me, but doesn't this sound like what th' meanest grass-comber on the land c'n lay claim to without he goes t' hazard his life?'}

_{This was not what he had come to see her for. He longed for the cool, balanced assessment he knew he would get from Renzi; her passionate sincerity on behalf of his shipmates made him feel ashamed. Stiffly, he returned the paper. 'I have m' duty, is all’ he said.}

_{'Duty!' she spat. 'Aye - I'll tell you about duty!' She faced him like a virago, her eyes afire. 'An' it's to y'r shipmates — they who share th' hazards o' the sea with ye, who're there by y'r side when y' face the enemy! Not what some scrovy smell-smock in th' Admiralty tells ye.'}

_{She held him with her eyes, then her head fell. When it rose again there was a glitter of tears. 'Please go’ she said, in a low voice, 'I've some grievin' to do.'}

_{There was no answer he could find to what she was saying. 'I thank ye for the refreshments.' He picked up his hat and, without looking at her, made his way to the door.}

_{'Thomas!' she called. 'You're a good man. But soon it'll be time t' choose.' Her eyes held his with a terrible intensity. 'Y' can never steer two courses at th' same time. When it's time, I pray t' God you take the right one.'}

_{The Nore anchorage spread out over a mile of sea, a breathtaking display of sea-power, but Kydd was not seeing it as they rounded the point. He couldn't return the bibulous chatting of the boatswain of Director, and pretended to stare out over the anchorage.}

_{It had to be faced. The terrible uprising at Spithead had cast its shadow as far as the Nore and soon he would have to choose. In his heart he knew that he could never condemn a shipmate for wanting full measures from the purser. The alternative, however, ran against all he had ever felt for the navy.}

_{On board Achilles there was unaccustomed quiet. An evening on the foredeck without dancing, grog and laughter was unsettling. Kydd could see men there, in the usual social groups, but there was none of the jovial camaraderie or careless noise, they were talking quiedy together.}

_{Below in the gunroom there was a pall of foreboding. The gunner and carpenter had left their cabins forward looking for company and now sat cradling their glasses, gloom etched on their faces. Kydd pulled down a book, but the light of the rush dips was so bad he gave up and gazed moodily at Cockburn, who was as usual scratching out a piece of poetry and oblivious to all else.}

_{'Himself not back aboard, then,' offered Mr Lane, the gunner. No one was inclined to reply: the captain's erratic movements in the last several days needed little explanation.}

_{The sharp-nosed surgeon's mate gave a thin smile. 'We takes any more o' the doxies an' we'll have the other half o' the crew under Venus's spell.'}

_{'What d' you care, Snipes? Ye takes y'r silver off 'em either way,' snapped the gunner, many of whose mates would be owing some of their meagre pay to the surgeon's mate for venereal treatment.}

_{The smile vanished. Morice, the carpenter, stirred and looked significantly at the two subdued midshipmen at the end of the table boning their best shoes.}

_{Without a word, Kydd reached for a fork and, blank-faced, jammed it into a well-worn cleft in a deck beam. The midshipmen looked up, and quiedy left.}

_{Morice leaned forward. 'I've heard as how we got Spithead men aboard,' he said quietly.}

_{'Aye.' The gunner would be more in touch than the carpenter with the main body of sailors and their concerns. 'Can't stop 'em coming aboard to see their mates in course.'}

_{'I bin in a real 'nough mutiny once,' Morice muttered. 'Ain't something y' forgets too easy.'}

_{Lane glanced at him with interest, and Cockburn stopped his scribbling and looked up.}

_{'Yair, Culloden in th' year ninety-four,' Morice, aware of the attention he was getting, became animated. 'That's right, Troubridge was our cap'n, an' a right taut hand was he. A fine seventy-four she was, Slade built an' a fair sailer—'}

_{A polite cough from Lane steadied him, and he went on, 'Ship lyin' in Spithead, they thinks t' send us t' sea short on vittles. Ship's company doesn't like this idea, they just in fr'm a cruise an' all, 'n' starts talkin' wry. Then one o' the quartermaster's mates - forget 'is tally t' my shame — we calls him Cocoa Jack on account of him being touched b' the sun, fine, hard-weather kind o' man . . .'}

_{The carpenter's expression grew troubled at the memory, and his voice changed when he resumed: 'Yeah, fine sort o' seaman. Well, he sees we ain't the stores aboard ‘ll let us sail, an' gets to speakin' with the men. Right reasonable he was, says Cap'n Troubridge would see 'em right if they shows firm.' He looked round the table gravely. 'He says as if they weren't t' take the barky to sea until she was stored proper, it was only their right. Gets half a dozen of his mates an' goes about th' ship organisin'. S' next mornin' they all stands fast when it's "hands t' unmoor ship" — jus' that, willin' t' do any duty but unmoor, they was.'}

_{'Well, where did you stand in this?' Kydd asked.}

_{Morice's eyes flicked once at him, and he continued, 'An' the cap'n listens, calm as y' like. Lets Cocoa Jack have his say, nods 'n' says, "Fair enough," or some such. "Yes," he says, when they asks f'r a pardon if they goes back t' duty.'}

_{'Did they get one?'}

_{'Sure they did, and fr'm the cap'n's own mouth in front of the whole company.'}

_{Kydd let out his breath. 'So all square and a-taunto then,' he said.}

_{'Not quite,' Morice said, in an odd manner. 'Hands turn to, but quick as a flash, when they wasn't expectin' it, Troubridge has 'em all clapped in iron garters, an' before they knows it they're in a court martial in the flagship f'r mutiny.' He paused significantly. 'They claims pardon - but funny thing, mates, th' court couldn't find any evidence o' one, no written pardon.' Another pause. 'So five on 'em, includin' Cocoa Jack, gets taken out 'n' hung on the fore yardarm afore the whole fleet.'}

_{While he drained his pot noisily the others exchanged glances. Letting the atmosphere darken, Lane waited and then growled, 'I was in Windsor Castle previous t' this'n, left before they has their mut'ny.' He looked for attention. 'Now that was a downright copper-bottomed, double-barrelled swinger of a mut'ny.}

_{'Remember it's a bigger ship, ninety-eight she was, a stronger crew, and they has the admiral an' all on board. An' it's just the same year as yours, mate, but out in th' Med. Can't swear t' the details, 'cos I'd left b' then, but I heard it all fr'm mates later. Now, ye'll find this a tough yarn, but it's true enough — in the flagship an' all, so hear this. They mutinies because they don't like the admiral, the cap'n, the first 1'tenant an' the bo'sun, and demands they all gets changed!'}

_{There was a shocked silence, until Morice chuckled. 'Yeah, heard o' that one,' he said, to the chagrin of Lane who was clearly winding up to a climax.}

_{'Well, what's t' do then?' Kydd demanded.}

_{Lane finished resentfully, 'No court martial — barring the cap'n only, I should say, an' the cap'n, first luff an' not forgettin' the bo'sun, all gets turned out o' their ship, just as they says.'}

_{'That's all?'}

_{'Is all,' confirmed Lane, "ceptin' they gets a pardon, every one.'}

_{The surprised grunts that this received were quickly replaced by a thoughtful quiet. Cockburn soberly interjected: 'This is different. At Spithead it's not just one ship but the whole fleet. The Admiralty will never forgive them — there'll be corpses at every yardarm for months.'}

_{'I saw in Th' Times the mutineers are talkin' to Parliament, even got 'em to print their demands in th' paper. It's already past the Admiralty - wouldn't be surprised if Billy Pitt himself ain't involved,' Kydd said.}

_{'Good Lord! I didn't know that.' Cockburn appeared shaken by the news. 'If that's so then this - well, it's never gone so far before. Anything can happen.'}

_{Lane's face tightened. 'O' course, you knows what this means f'r us . ..'}

_{'It's about to start here,' said Cockburn.}

_{The gunner gave a hard smile. 'No, mate. What it means is that Parlyment has t' finish this quick — that means they'll be askin' us an' the North Sea fleet t' sail around to Spithead an' settle it wi' broadsides.'}

_{'No!' Kydd gasped.}

_{'C'n you think else?' Lane growled.}

_{'Could be. Supposin' it's like y'r Windsor Castle an' they agree t' do something. Then it's all settled, we don't need t' sail.'}

_{'You're both forgetting the other possibility,' Cockburn said heavily.}

_'Oh?'

_{'That the Spithead mutiny spreads here to the Nore.'}

_{A wash of foreboding shook Kydd. Out there in the night unknown dark forces were tearing at the setded orderliness of his world, upheavals every bit as threatening as the despised revolution of the French.}

_{'Need t' get me head down,' muttered Morice. 'Are ye—' The little group froze. From forward came a low rumble, more felt than heard. It grew louder — and now came from the upper deck just above. It came nearer, louder, ominous and mind-freezing: it seemed to be coming straight for them, thunderous and unstoppable.}

_{Then, abruptly, the noise ceased and another rumble from forward began its fearful journey towards them. Unconsciously the surgeon's mate gripped his throat and, wide-eyed, they all stared upward. The gunner and carpenter spoke together ‘Rough music!'}

_{This was a rough and ready but effective way for seamen to let the quarterdeck know of serious discontent. In the blackness of night on deck, a twenty-four-pounder cannon ball from the ready-use shot garlands would be rolled along the deck aft, the culprit impossible to detect.}

_{It was nearly upon them — whatever storm it was that lay ahead.}

_{They were waiting for him at the fore jeer bitts, hanking down after re-reeving a foreyard clew-line block, making a show of it in the process. Standing in deliberate, staged groups, eyes darted between them.}

_{Kydd saw the signs and tensed. 'Ah, Mr Kydd,' Jewell said carefully, inspecting critically the coil of line in his hand as though looking for imperfections.}

_{'Aye, Nunky,' Kydd replied, just as carefully. The others stopped what littie work they were doing and watched.}

_{'Well, Tom, mate, we're puzzled ter know what course we're on, these things we hear.'}

_{'What things, Nunky? The catblash y'r hearing about—'}

_{'The actions at Spithead, he means, of course.'}

_{Kydd turned to Farnall, sizing him up. 'And what've y' heard that troubles ye so much?' He was not surprised that Farnall was there.}

_{'As much as you, I would say,' Farnall said evenly.}

_{Kydd. coloured. 'A set o' mumpin' villains, led like sheep t' play their country false, the sad dogs.'}

_{Farnall raised an eyebrow. 'Sad dogs? Not as who would call the brave victors of St Vincent, just these three months gone.'}

_{Pent-up feeling boiled in Kydd and, knocking Jewell aside, he confronted Farnall. 'You an' y'r sea-lawyer ways, cully, these 'r' seamen ye're talkin' of, fine men ye'd be proud t' have alongside you out on the yard, gale in y' teeth - what d' ye know o' this, y' haymakin' lubber?'}

_{Jewell spoke from behind. 'Now, Mr Kydd, he's no sailor yet, but haul off a mort on 'im, he's tryin'.'}

_{Breathing deeply, Kydd was taken unawares by the depth of his anger: Farnall was only an unwitting representative of the rabid forces of the outside world that were tearing apart his share of it. 'Aye, well, if ye runs athwart m' hawse again .. .'}

_{'Understood, Mr Kydd,' said Farnall, with a slight smile.}

_{Kydd looked around and glowered; the group drifted apart and left under his glare, but Boddy remained, fiddling with a rope's end.}

_{'Will?' Kydd would trust his life with someone like Boddy: he was incapable of deceit or trickery and was the best hand on a sail with a palm and needle, the sailmaker included.}

_{'Tom, yer knows what's in th' wind, don' need me ter tell yez.'}

_{Kydd didn't speak for a space, then he said, 'I c'n guess. There's those who're stirrin' up mischief f'r their own reasons, an' a lot o' good men are goin' to the yardarm 'cos of them.'}

_{Boddy let the rope drop. 'Farnall, he admires on Wilkes - yer dad probably told yer, "Wilkes 'n' Liberty!" an' all that.'}

_{'I don't hold wi' politics at sea,' Kydd said firmly. 'An' don't I recollect Wilkes is agin the Frenchy revolution?'}

_{'Aye, that may be so,' Boddy said uncomfortably, 'but Farnall, he's askin' some questions I'm vexed ter answer.'}

_{'Will, ye shouldn't be tellin' me this,' Kydd muttered.}

_{Boddy looked up earnestly. 'Like we sent in petitions 'n' letters an' that — how many, yer can't count — so th' Admiralty must know what it's like. They've got ter! So if nothin' happens, what does it mean?'}

_{He paused, waiting for Kydd to respond. When he didn't, Boddy said, 'There's only one answer, Tom.' He took a deep breath. 'They don't care! We're away out of it at sea, why do they haveta care?'}

_{'Will, you're telling me that ye're going t' trouble th' Lords o' the Admiralty on account of a piece o' reasty meat, Nipcheese gives y' short measure—'}

_{'Tom, ye knows it's worse'n that. When I was a lad, first went ter sea, it were better'n now. So I asks ye, how much longer do we have ter take it — how long, mate?'}

_{'Will, y're talkin' wry, I c'n see that—'}

_{'Spithead, they're doin' the right thing as I sees it. No fightin', no disrespeck, just quiet-like, askin' their country ter play square with 'em, tryin'—'}

_{'Hold y'r tongue!' Kydd said harshly.}

_{Boddy stopped, but gazed at him steadily, and continued softly, 'Some says as it could be soon when a man has t' find it in himself ter stand tall f'r what's right. How's about you, Mr Kydd?'}

_{Kydd felt his control slipping. Boddy knew that he had overstepped - but was it deliberate, an attempt to discover his sympathies, mark him for elimination in a general uprising, or was it a friend and shipmate trying to share his turmoil?}

_{Kydd turned away. In what he had said Boddy was guilty of incitement to mutiny; if Kydd did not witness against him he was just as guilty. But he could not - and realised that a milestone had been passed.}

_{He did not sleep well: as an eight-year-old he had been badly shaken when his mother had returned from a London convulsed by mob rioting, Lord Gordon's ill-advised protest lurching out of control. She had been in a state of near-panic at the breakdown of authority, the drunken rampages and casual violence. Her terror had planted a primordial fear in Kydd of the dissolution of order, a reflexive hatred of revolutionaries, and in the darkness he had woken from terrifying dreams of chaos and his shipmates turned to ravening devils.}

_{Glad when morning came, he sat down to breakfast in the gunroom. The others ate in silence, the navy way, until Cockburn pushed back his plate and muttered, 'I have a feeling in m' bowels, Tom.'}

_{'Oh?' Kydd answered cautiously. This was not like Cockburn at all.}

_{'Last night there was no play with the shot-rolling. It was still, too quiet by half. Have you heard anything from your people?'}

_{'I heard 'em talkin' but no thin' I c'n put my finger on,' he lied.}

_{'All it needs is some hothead.' Cockburn stared morosely at the mess-table.}

_{Kydd's dream still cast a spell and he was claustrophobic. 'Going topsides,' he said, but as he got to his feet, the gunroom servant passed a message across.}

_{There was no mistaking the bold hand and original spelling, and a smile broke through. This had obviously been brought aboard by a returning libertyman.}

_{'The sweet Dulcinea calls?' Cockburn asked drily. It was no secret in the gunroom that Kydd's dark good looks were an unfailing attraction to females.}

_{He broke the wafer.}

It wood greeve me if we are not to be frends any moor and I wood take it kindly in yuo if you could come visit for tea with me.

Yoor devoted

Kitty

_{His day brightened: he could probably contrive another visit that afternoon — after his experience in an Antiguan dockyard he was good at cozening in the right quarters. Stepping lightly he arrived on deck; it was a clear dawn, promising reliable weather for the loosing and drying of the headsails.}

_{The duty watch of the hands appeared; the afterguard part-of-ship rigged the wash-deck hose and the morning routine started. Kydd could pace quietly one side of the quarterdeck until the petty officer was satisfied with clean decks and then he could collect the hands.}

_{He tried to catch a glimpse of their temper. He knew all the signs — the vicious movements of frustration, the languid motions of uncaring indolence — but today was different. There was a studied blankness in what they were doing; they worked steadily, methodically, with little of the backchat usual in a tedious job. It was unsettling.}

_{His musing was interrupted by the approach of a duty midshipman. 'Mr Kydd, ol’ Heavie Hawley wants to see you now.'}

_{Kydd's heart gave a jump. With the captain ashore, the first lieutenant was in command, and for some reason wanted his presence immediately. He stalled: 'An' I don't understan' y'r message, y' swab - say again.'}

_{'First l'tenant asks that you attend him in his cabin, should you be at liberty to do so at this time.'}

_{'I shall be happy t' attend shortly,' Kydd replied guardedly, and the reefer scuttled off.}

_{It could be anything, but with increasing apprehension he remembered his talk with Boddy. If anyone had overheard, or had seen that it had not been followed by instant action to take the matter aft, he was in serious trouble.}

_{Removing his worn round hat, he hurried down to the wardroom and the officers' cabins. The polished dark red of the first lieutenant's cabin door looked ominous. He knocked.}

_{'Come in.' Hawley's aristocratic tones were uncompromising, whoever he addressed. He was at his desk, writing. He looked up, then carefully replaced his quill in the holder and swivelled round. 'Ah, Mr Kydd.' His eyes narrowed. 'I've asked you here on a matter of some seriousness.'}

_{'Er, aye, sir.'}

_{'Some in the service would regard it more lightly than I, but I would not have it in question, sir, other than that I would rather put my duty, as asked of me, ahead of anything I hold dear in this world. Is that clear?' 'Aye aye, sir.'}

_{He picked up a paper. 'This is duty! It is from the King himself.' He paused as if struck by sudden doubt, then recovered. 'Shall I read it to you?'}

_{'If y' please, sir.' It was probably his commission: Kydd had never seen an officer's commission, the instrument that made them, under the King's Majesty, of almost sacred power aboard a man-o'-war. He had heard that it contained the most aweful strictures regarding allegiance and duty, and he was probably going to read them to Kydd before striking his blow.}

_{'Very well.' His lips moved soundlessly as he scanned down to the right spot:}

_{'"The Queen's House, the 10th day of May, 1797.}

_{'"The Earl of Spencer, to avoid any delay in my waiting . .." er, and so forth ". .. that a fitting reception for the newly wed Princess Royal and His Serene Highness the Prince of Wurttemburg be made ready preparatory to their embarkation in San Fiorenzo for their honeymoon. Also attending will be Colonel Gwynn, Lord Cathcart and the Clerk of the Green Cloth and two others. I desire orders be given ..." more detail "... by return rider."}

_{'There! What did you think of that? From His Majesty, Mr Kydd.'}

_{'I — er, I don' know what t' think, sir. Er, the honour!'}

_{Clearly pleased with the effect, Hawley unbent a little. 'Means we are required to mount an assembly of sorts for the Princess Royal and party prior to their boarding San Fiorenzo. I've spoken to Lieutenant Binney, who will be involved in the entertainments, and Mr Eastman will be looking into the refreshments. Of course, Captain Dwyer will have returned from the court martial by then.'}

_{Fighting the tide of relief, Kydd tried to make sense of it. To be meeting royalty was not to be taken calmly and it would be something to bring up casually at mess for years to come. 'Sir, what—'}

_{'In the nature of these things, it is possible that the party may be delayed or San Fiorenzo is obliged to take an earlier tide, in which case the whole occasion will have to be abandoned.'}

_{'What is my duty, if y' please?'}

_{'Ah, yes. You will understand that a royal retinue is accustomed to an order of civilised conduct above that normally to be found in a ship of war. Your, er, origins make you uniquely qualified for this duty.'}

_'Sir?'

_{'You will ensure that the ship's company as far as possible is kept out of sight, away from the gaze of this party, that those unavoidably on duty are strictly enjoined to abjure curses, froward behaviour and unseemly displays, and that silence is kept below. You may employ any expression of discipline you sec fit.'}

_{Despite his relief, Kydd felt a dull resentment. What were his men, that they must be herded away from the gaze of others, they with whom he had shared so many dangers by sea and malice of the enemy? 'Aye aye, sir,' he said softly.}

_{'So we—' Hawley broke off with a frown. From the deck above sounded the thump of many feet, ending suddenly, just as if the cry of 'all hands on deck' had sounded.}

_{He stared at Kydd. 'Did you—' Distantly there came the unmistakable clamour of cheers, a crescendo of sound that echoed, then was taken up and multiplied from all around them.}

_{'Good heavens! You don't suppose—' Seizing his cocked hat, Hawley strode out on deck, closely followed by Kydd. It seemed the entire ship's company of Achilles was cheering in the lower rigging, a deafening noise.}

_{Around the anchorage in the other ships it was the same. In the flagship Sandwich the rigging was black with frantically waving seamen, the urgent tan-tara of a trumpet sounding above the disorder, the crack of a signal gun on her fo'c'sle adding point to the moment.}

_{'You, sir,' Hawley shouted, at a bemused midshipman. 'What the devil is going on?'}

_{Before he could answer, a crowd of seamen moved purposefully towards him on the quarterdeck, ignoring the others in the shrouds cheering hoarsely. Kydd's stomach tightened. He knew what was afoot}

_{They didn't hesitate. Kydd saw Farnall conspicuously in front, Boddy and Jewell, some of his own forward gun-crews, others, all with the same expression of grim resolution. They were not armed: they didn't need to be.}

_{'Sir,' said Eli Coxall gravely to the first lieutenant. 'I'll trouble ye for the keys t' the magazine.'}

_{Shocked, Hawley stared at him. The cheering in the rigging stopped, and men dropped to the deck, coming aft to watch. Kydd stood paralysed: a mutiny was now taking place.}

_{'Now, sir, if you please!' Farnall's voice held a ring of authority, a quota man turned mutineer, and it goaded Kydd into anger. He clenched his fists and pushed towards him. 'Do ye know what ye've done, man?' he blazed. 'All y'r shipmates, headin' for a yardarm—'}

_{The big bulk of Nelms, a seaman Kydd knew more for his strength than judgement, shoved beside Farnall. 'Now, yer can't talk ter Mr Farnall like that, Mr Kydd.'}

_{Kydd sensed the presence of others behind him, and looked unbelieving at Coxall, Boddy and others he knew. They stared back at him gravely.}

_{'This is open mutiny, you men,' Hawley began nervously, 'but should you return to your duty, then—'}

_{'We have charge o' the ship,' Coxall said firmly. It was a well-organised coup that was all but over.}

_{Binney's voice came from behind. 'Sir, do you—'}

_{Hawley recovered. 'No, Mr Binney, I do not believe hasty actions will answer. These scoundrels are out of their wits at the moment, but they do have the ship.' He turned to Coxall. 'Very well. You shall have the keys. What is it you plan to do with the vessel? Turn it over to the French?'}

_{'Oh, no, sir.' Only Farnall showed an expression of triumph; Coxall's voice continued level and controlled. 'We're with our brethren in Spithead, sir, in their just actions. I'd be obliged were ye to conform t' our directions.'}

_{Kydd held his breath. It was as if the heavens had collapsed on them all, and he dreaded what was to come.}

_{'And these are?' Hawley hissed.}

_{'Well, sir, we has the good conduct o' the fleet well at heart, so if we gets y'r word you'll not move against us, why, y' has the freedom o' the ship, you an' y' officers. We're not goin't' sail, we're stayin' at moorin's till we've bin a-righted.' Kydd was struck by Coxall's dignity in the appalling danger he stood in: he was now undeniably marked out, in public, as a ringleader. 'My word?'}

_{'Aye, sir, the word of a king's officer.'}

_{Hawley was clearly troubled. It was deadly certain that the gravest consequences would follow, whatever happened, and his every act - or omission — would be mercilessly scrutinised. What was not at question was that if word was given, it would be kept.}

_{The crowd grew quiet, all eyes on the first lieutenant.}

_{'I, er, give my word.'}

_{There was a rustle of feeling, muttered words and feet shuffling.}

_{'Thank ye, sir,' Coxall said. 'Then ye also have the word o' the delegates at the Nore that y' shan't be touched.' Hawley began to speak, but Coxall cut him off. 'Sir, the business o' the ship goes on, but we do not stir one inch t' sea.'}

_{'Very well.' Hawley had little choice — in barely three minutes he had gone from command of a ship-of-the-line to an irrelevancy.}

_{A scuffle of movement and raised voices came from the fore-hatchway. A knot of men appeared, propelling the boatswain aft, his hands roughly tied.}

_{'We gives 'im medicine as’ll cure his gripin'!' crowed Cantlie, dancing from foot to foot in front of the detested Welby. 'Go reeve a yard rope, mates!'}

_{From the main hatch the boatswain jerked into view, hatless and with blood trickling from his nose, a jeering crowd of seamen frogmarching him aft. 'Here's one t' do a littie dance fer us!'}

_{It was met by a willing roar, but Coxall cut in forcefully: 'Hold hard, y' clinkin' fools! Remember, we got rules, we worked it out.'}

_{'Rules be buggered!' an older fo'c'sle hand slurred. 'I gotta argyment wi' first luff needs settlin' now!' Hawley, pale-faced, tensed.}

_{Coxall spoke quietly, over his shoulder: 'Podger?' Nelms's beefy arm caught the troublemaker across the face, throwing him to the deck. 'I said, mates, we got rules,' Coxall said heavily. He turned to Boddy. 'Will, these two are t' be turned out o' the ship now. C'n yer clear away the larb'd cutter?'}

_{A seaman with drawn cutlass came on deck and reported to him. It seemed that the marines were powerless, their arms under control and all resistance impossible.}

_{Coxall raised his voice to a practised roar and addressed the confused and silent mass of men. 'Committee meets in the st'b'd bay now. Anyone wants t' lay a complaint agin an officer c'n do it there.' He glanced around briefly, then led his party out of sight below.}

_{Chapter 7}

_{Mutiny! A word to chill the bowels. Achilles was now in the hands of mutineers, every one of whom would probably swing for it, condemned by their own actions. Kydd paced forward cautiously; men gave way to him as a master's mate just as they had before. There were sailors in the waist at work clearing the waterways at the ship's side, others sat on the main hatch, picking oakum. Forward a group was seeing to the loosing and drying of headsails. A few stood about forlornly, confused, rudderless.}

_{It was hardly credible: here was a great ship in open insurrection and shipboard routines went on largely as they did every day. Binney paced by on the opposite side of the deck; seamen touched their hats and continued, neither abashed nor aggressive.}

_{Impulsively Kydd clattered down the hatchway to the main deck and made his way to the ship's bay, the clear area in the bluff bow forward of the riding bitts. There was a canvas screen rigged across, with one corner laced up, a seaman wearing a cutlass at ease there, on watch. 'I have a question f'r the delegates,' Kydd told the man.}

_{He smiled briefly. 'Aye, an' I'm sure ye have,' he said, and peered inside. He straightened and held back the corner flap. 'Ask yer questions, then,' he said, looking directly at Kydd.}

_{Farnall sat at a table, Boddy on his right. Others were on benches and sea-chests, about a dozen in all. They were discussing something in low, urgent tones, while Farnall shuffled a clutch of papers. Boddy wore a frown and looked uneasy.}

_{'What cheer, Tom?' This came from Jewell, who was standing to one side. Boddy looked up and nodded. Others stopped their talk and looked at him.}

_{'Nunky, Will,' Kydd acknowledged.}

_{'And to what do we owe this honour?' Farnall said.}

_{Kydd folded his arms. 'I came t' see if there's anyone c'n explain t' me this ragabash caper.'}

_{There were growls from some, but one called, 'Tell 'im, Mr Farnall.'}

_{Farnall rose to his feet. Gripping the lapels of his waistcoat he turned to Kydd, but before he could speak, Kydd interrupted forcefully: 'No, I want t' hear it from a reg'lar-built sailorman, not a land-toggie who doesn't know his arse from his elbow about sailoring.'}

_{Farnall's face grew tight, but he sat down. Boddy stood up and hurried over to Kydd, taking him by the elbow and leaving the bay. 'Tom, it'll do yez no good to get up Farnall's nose. He's a delegate now, an' he's got friends.'}

_{They emerged together on deck - the spring sunshine out of keeping with the dire events taking place. Kydd glanced up wistfully at the innocent blue sky. 'What has you planned f'r Achilles, Will?' he said.}

_{Boddy paused. Ter an answer, ye needs ter know what's happened altogether, like.' He pursed his lips. 'We feels they has a right steer on things in Spithead, Tom. They's standin' f'r hard things that should've bin done an age back. What we're doin' is giving 'em our backin', 'cos they need it. What we done is, we have two delegates f'r each ship, an' a committee o' twelve. We decides things b' votes an' that, Farnall knows all about this. An' we hold wi' discipline, Tom. We won't have any as is half slued around the decks, not when we're so close t' the wind like this'n.'}

_{'Who's y'r delegates?' Kydd asked.}

_{'Coxall 'n' Farnall, but we got some good men in th' committee. We already have rules o' conduct: no liquor aboard wi'out it's declared, respects to officers, ship is kept ready f'r sea — an' this is because we swear 'ut if the Mongseers sail on England, we're ready ter do our dooty.'}

_{Kydd looked squarely at Boddy. 'Will, who's it behind this all — who organised it?' If there was the barest whiff of French treachery he would have all his doubts resolved, his duty clear.}

_{'Why, we're follering Spithead, is all, nothin' more.'}

_{'No Frenchies at the bottom of it, a-tall?'}

_{'No, mate. If they noo that the whole navy of Great Britain was hook down an' goin' nowhere, they'd soon be crowdin' sail for England. They ain't, so there's no plot. They don't even know.'}

_{'But there's someone takin' charge?'}

_{'O' course — someone has ter. Sandwich, she's the Parlyment ship, the committee o' the fleet meets there. We has a president o' the delegates, name o' Dick Parker. We'll see 'im soon, wouldn't wonder.' Boddy looked shrewdly at Kydd. 'Look, Tom, it's started, cuffin, an' mark my words, we're goin' to stand fast. Now why doesn't ye come in wi' us? There's many a soul looks up ter you, would take—'}

_{Kydd's harsh reply stilled Boddy's words, but the latter's eyes held reproach, sadness, which- touched Kydd. Boddy glanced at him once, then turned and went below.}

_{Kydd paced restlessly. If the likes of Will Boddy had seen it necessary to hazard their lives to stand for what they believed needed righting . . .}

_{It had to be admitted, the mutiny had been conducted on the strictest lines. The committee was even preparing articles of conduct for preserving good order and naval discipline in the face of the absence of authority, an amazing thing, given the circumstances.}

_{But most astonishing was the mere fact that the complexity of daily life — the taking aboard of stores to meet the needs of seven hundred men, the deployment of skilled hands to maintain the miles of cordage and sea-racked timbers, the scaling of cannon bores — was continued as before.}

_{The noon meal was a cheerless affair in the gunroom; the midshipmen were subdued, the senior hands edgy, Cockburn introspective. It was made more so by the waves of jollity gusting from the sailors on the gundeck relishing being in relaxed discipline.}

_{Glad to return on deck and get away from Cockburn's moodiness, Kydd kept out of the way of the sailors at the gangway waiting to board the boats to take them ashore. Liberty tickets were being issued on a generous scale. These were of the usual form to protect them from the press-gang and prove them not deserters, but they were signed by a delegate, not an officer.}

_{A shout from the waist caught Kydd's attention. Someone called out, 'An' if I'm not wrong that longboat comin' under our stern now is 'imself come t' visit.'}

_{Men ran to the ship's side to catch a glimpse of the president. The boat curved widely, the men at the oars pulling lustily in a play of enthusiasm. In the sternsheets was a dark-featured man sitting bolt upright, looking neither to left nor right; he did not acknowledge the surging cheers.}

_{The boat hooked on, and the passenger, wearing a stylish beaver hat and a blue coat with half-boots, came down the boat. He clambered up the side, and there was a scramble among the men at the top, a cry of 'Side!' A hurrying boatswain's mate arrived and, with appropriate ceremony, President of the Delegates Richard Parker was piped aboard HMS Achilles. Kydd held back at the parody, but was drawn in fascination to the scene.}

_{Parker carried himself well and looked around with studied composure, his dark eyes intelligent and expressive. He doffed his hat to Hawley, who had come on deck but did not speak with him; he went forward, and stood on the fore gratings, folding his arms, waiting for the men to come to him.}

_{Sailors gathered around, their talking dying away. 'Brother Tars,' he began, fixing with his eyes first one man, then another. 'Your waiting is over. Your long wait for justice, rights and true respect - is over.' His voice was educated, assured and direct, but somewhat thin against the breeze and shipboard noises. 'We have joined our brothers in Spithead, as they asked us, and even while we celebrate, there are despatched our representatives to Yarmouth, to the North Sea squadron, to beseech them also to join us. When they do, with Plymouth now aroused, the entire navy of Great Britain will be arisen in our cause.'}

_{Kydd listened, unwilling to leave. The North Sea squadron! This was news indeed: the last battle squadron left to Britain, the one strategically sited to confront the Dutch and the entrance to the Baltic, if it mutinied then . ..}

_{'This will make His Majesty's perverse ministers sit up. It will show that we are steadfast, we mean to win entire recognition of our grievances - and as long as we stand together and united, we cannot fail.' Parker's eyes shone, as though he was personally touched by the moment.}

_{Scattered cheers rose up, but there were as many troubled and uncertain faces.}

_{'We are His Majesty's most loyal and dutiful subjects. Our intentions are noble, our motions virtuous. Why then do we, victims of a barbarous tyranny, have to clamour for justice? I will tell you! King George is surrounded by corrupt and treacherous advisers, but now they have been brought low, the scoundrels, by common seamen. By us!'}

_{Despite himself, Kydd was transfixed by the scene. Here was the man who had pulled together seamen from a dozen ships in common cause - so many hard men, tough seamen who had met the enemy in battle and prevailed: they were not a rabble to be swayed by wild words. They were being asked to risk their necks for others, and would not easily have been convinced.}

_{Parker's voice rose. 'While we stand steadfast, they must treat with us, and our claims are just and few. As I speak, in London there are meetings of the lords and nobles, the ministers and secretaries — and they are meeting because they have to! No longer can they ignore us. And all because we stood up for our rights, without flinching.'}

_{Kydd saw men around beginning to look thoughtful, others becoming animated.}

_{'Fellow seamen, let's give it three hearty cheers — and I invite any who will to step ashore this afternoon and lift a pot with me to the King, and confusion to his false friends.'}

_{Coxall stepped forward with a grim smile. 'An' it's three cheers 'n' a tiger!' he roared. This time the exultation was full-hearted, and there was an air of savage joy as Parker stepped down to make his way back to the boat.}

_{Achilles's boats were soon in full use, putting off full of libertymen keen to taste the sweets of success in a ran-tan ashore.}

_{Kydd gazed around the anchorage. Sandwich swung serenely to her buoy, but her decks were alive with activity, her boats similarly employed. Inshore of Achilles was Director, Bligh's ship. Kydd wondered what had happened to him: this was the second mutiny he had suffered. Astonishingly, the ships showed little sign of the breathtaking events taking place, all men-o'-war at the Nore were flying their flags and pennants as though nothing had happened.}

_{Kydd had not been turned out of the ship, like some of the officers, but he found his estrangement from the seamen irksome. But if they were enjoying a spree ashore, he saw no reason not to step off himself — if only on ship's business. He had a seaman in his division in sick quarters ashore somewhere: he would visit, and perhaps call on Kitty. He found himself a place in the cutter, enduring jovial taunts from sailors who had no doubt where he was headed.}

_{They rounded the point and ran the boat alongside. The dockyard was in uproar. Sailors and their women were everywhere. Along with grog cans some bore rough banners - 'Success to our Cause!', 'Billy Pitt to be damn'd!'}

_{Dockyard artisans left their workshops and joined the glorious merrymaking, and here and there Kydd saw the red coats of soldiery; it seemed the garrison was taking sides.}

_{A brass band led by a swaggering sailor with a huge Union Flag came round the corner in a wash of raucous sound, scattering urchins and drawing crowds. It headed towards the fort on the point and Kydd was carried forward in the press. The militia was formed up, but the procession swirled around them, and while officers and sergeants tried to march the soldiers off, laughing sailors walked along with them, joking and urging.}

_{Kydd found himself caught up in the carnival-like mood. He took off his blue master's mate coat, swinging it over his arm in the warm spring sunshine before wholeheartedly joining in the chorus of 'Britons Strike Home'.}

_{He resisted the urge to join fully in the roystering, feeling a certain conscience about the sick man he had come to see, and took the road to Blue Town, passing the hulks and on through Red Barrier Gate, which was unmanned.}

_{Blue Town had taken the mutineers to its heart. The shanty town, with its maze of mean alleyways, taverns and bawdy-houses rocked with good cheer. Seamen came and went raucously and more processions brought people spilling out on to the street to shout defiance and condemnation.}

_{Kydd set off the quarter-mile over the marshes for Mile Town, a rather more substantial community with roads, stone houses and even shops for the quality. As he entered the settlement he saw that there was a quite different mood — the few sailors who had strayed this far were neither feted nor cheered, shops were shuttered and in the streets only a few frightened souls were abroad.}

_{The temporary sick quarters were in a large hostelry, the Old Swan, which was near the tollgate for the London turnpike. Kydd turned down the path and walked through the open door, but the dark-stained desk just inside was deserted.}

_{He walked further — it was odd, no orderlies or surgeons about. Suddenly noise erupted from a nearby room, and before Kydd could enter a black-coated medical man rushed past. 'Hey — stop!' he called, in bewilderment, after the figure, who didn't look back, vanishing down the road in a swirl of coat-tails.}

_{Not knowing what to expect, Kydd went into the room.}

_{'Ye'll swing fer this, mate, never fear,' a bulky seaman shouted, at a cringing figure on his knees. 'N-no, spare me, I beg!'}

_{Another, watching with his arms folded, broke into harsh laughter. 'Spare ye? What good t' the world is a squiddy oF ferret like you?'}

_{It was a sick room. Men lay in their cots around the walls, enduring. One got to his elbow. 'Leave off, mates! Safferey, 'e's honest enough fer a sawbones.' He caught sight of Kydd standing at the doorway. 'Poor looby, thinks th' delegates are comin' to top 'im personally.' The surgeon was desperately frightened, trembling uncontrollably. 'Said they were here ter check on conditions, an' if they weren't up to snuff, they'd do 'im.'}

_{'Shut yer face, Jack,' one of the delegates growled. 'O' course, we're in mutiny, an' today the whole o' the fleet is out 'n' no one's ter stop us gettin' our revenge — are you?'}

_{'Time t' let him go,' Kydd said, helping the shattered man to his feet. Wild-eyed, Safferey tore free and ran into a side room, slamming the door behind him.}

_{The thick-set delegate's face hardened. Kydd snapped, 'Y'r president, Mr Parker, what does he think o' yez topping it the tyrant over th' poor bast'd? Thinks y' doing a fine job as delegates, does he?'}

_{The two delegates looked at each other, muttered something inaudible and left.}

_{A muffled clang sounded from the side room, then a sliding crash. Kydd strode over and threw open the door. In the dim light he saw the form of the surgeon on the floor, flopping like a landed fish. The reek of blood was thick and unmistakable as it spread out beneath the dying man, clutching at his throat. The mutiny had drawn its first blood.}

_{'Take a pull on't,' Kitty urged, the thick aroma of rum eddying up from the glass.}

_{Kydd had been shaken by the incident, not so much by the blood, which after his years at sea had lost its power to dismay, but by the almost casual way the gods had given notice that there would be a price to pay for the boldness of the seamen in committing to their cause.}

_{Paradoxically, now, he was drawn to them - their courage in standing for their rights against their whole world, their restraint and steadfast loyalty to the Crown, their determination to sustain the ways of the navy. It would need firm control to ensure that hotheads didn't take over; but if they never left sight of their objectives, they must stand a good chance of a hearing at the highest levels.}

_{'Thank ye, Kitty,' he said.}

_{Her face clouded for a moment. 'An' that was a rummer I had saved f'r Ned, poor lamb.'}

_{The snug room was warmly welcoming to his senses, and he smiled at Kitty. 'It's a rare sight in the dockyard.'}

_{'Yes, an' it's not the place f'r a respect'ble woman,' she said, with feeling.}

_{'Ye should be pleased with y'r sailors, that they've stood up f'r their rights.'}

_{She looked away. 'Aye.' Then, turning to Kydd with a smile, she said, 'Let's not talk o' that, me darlin', we could be havin' words. Look, we're puttin' on a glee tomorrow on Queen Street. Would y' like to come?'}

_{'With you? As long as I c'n get ashore, Kitty, m' love.'}

_{She moved up to him, her eyes soft. 'Come, Tom, I've a fine rabbit pie needs attention. An' after ...'}

_{Coxall waited until Kydd sent his men forward and was on his own. 'If I could 'ave a word, Tom.' 'Eli?' he said guardedly.}

_{'Well, Tom, ye knows I ain't as who should say a taut hand wi' the words.' 'Er, yes, mate?'}

_{'An' I have t' write out these rules o' conduc', which are agreed b' the committee. They has to get sent t' Sandwich fer approval.' He looked awkwardly at the deck. 'Heard ye was a right good word-grinder an' would take it kindly in yez if you could give me a steer on this.'}

_{'What about Farnall? He was a forger, y' knows.'}

_{'He's over in Sandwich wi' Dick Parker.'}

_{'Eli, y' knows I'm not in with ye.'}

_{'I understands, Tom, but we ain't in the word-grubbin' line a-tall, it's a fathom too deep for me an' all.'}

_{'I'll bear a fist on y' hard words, but — y' writes it out fair y'selves afterwards, mind.'}

_{'Right, Tom,' said Coxall.}

_{The other delegates moved over respectfully, giving Kydd ample room on the sea-chest bench. He picked up the draft and read the scratchy writing.}

_{'What's this'n?' he asked, at the first tortuous sentence.}

_{'Er, this is ter say we only wants what's agreed b' everyone, no argyments after.'}

_{'So we has this word for it, and it's "unanimous",' Kydd said. 'We say, "To secure all points, we must be unanimous.'" He reached for a fresh paper, made a heading, and entered the article.}

_{'Thanks, Tom.'}

_{'An' this one: "We turns out o' the ship all officers what come it the hard horse." You may not say this, cuffin, they'd think you a parcel o' shabs.' He considered for a space. 'Should you like "All unsuitable officers to be sent ashore" in its place?'}

_{'Yes, if y' please.' They dealt with the remaining articles in turn, and when it was finished, he handed back the sheet. 'Now ye get them copied fair, an' Achilles is not let down a-tall.'}

_{A seaman in shore-going rig hovered nearby. 'Why, Bill, mate, are y' ready, then?' Coxall asked.}

_{'Yeah, Eli,' the seaman said. He had his hat off, held in front of him, but Kydd could make out Achilles picked out in gold on a ribbon round it.}

_{'Then here's y' money.' It was five pounds, all in silver and copper. The man accepted gingerly.}

_{Coxall turned back to Kydd. 'We're sendin' delegates t' Spithead, tellin' 'em we've made a risin' in support. Bill and th' others are goin't' bring back some strat'gy an' things fr'm the brothers there. On yer way, cully.'}

_{Coxall found no problem in confiding in Kydd. 'They're doin' right well in Spithead. Had a yatter wi' the admiral, an' th' Admiralty even gave our tally o' grievances to the gov'ment.' He allowed a smile to spread. 'All we gotta do is follow what they done.'}

_{Despite all that was going on, Kydd never tired of the vista. Even after several days the estuary of the Thames was, in its ever-changing panorama, a fascinating sight, the sea highway to the busiest port in the world. Sail could be seen converging on the river from every direction; big Indiamen, the oak-bark-tanned sails of coasters, bluff-bowed colliers from the north, plain and dowdy Baltic traders, all in competition for a place to allow them to catch the tide up the sweeping bends of the Thames to the Pool of London.}

_{Kydd knew it took real seamanship: the entrance to London was probably the most difficult of any port. The oudying sandbanks — the Gunfleet, Shipwash, the Sunk - were intricate shoals that the local coasters and the pilots alone knew; only the careful buoyage of Trinity House made transit possible for the larger vessels. The ebbing tide would reveal the bones of many a wreck if ever a lesson were needed.}

_{The fleet anchorage of the Great Nore was to one side of the shipping channels, safely guarded by these outer hazards, but in its turn acting as the key to the kingdom, safeguarding the priceless torrent of trade goods and produce in and out of London.}

_{In the calm sea, the anchorage was a-swarm with boats, under sail and going ashore, or with oars while visiting each other. Some outbound merchantmen tacked towards the scene, curious to see the notorious fleet in mutiny, but kept their distance.}

_{Reluctandy Kydd went below to see the master; no matter that the world was in an uproar, charts still needed correcting, accounts inspected. But Eastman was not in his cabin. He made to leave, but was stopped by Coxall. Five others were with him.}

_{'Beggin' y'r pardon, mate, but Mr Parker begs leave t' make y'r acquaintance.'}

_{Every ship had its smell, its character, and Sandwich did not prove an exception: approaching from leeward Kydd was surprised at its acrid staleness and reek of neglect and decay.}

_{They hooked on at the mainchains, Kydd gazed up at the 90-gun ship-of-the-line with interest; this vessel had started life nearly forty years before, in the wonderful year of victories, and had gone on to see service in most parts of the world. But she had ended up as a receiving ship for the Nore, little more than a hulk that would never again see the open sea. She was now where the press-gang and quota-men were held before they were assigned to the ships of the fleet.}

_{The old-fashioned elaborate gilded scroll-work around her bows and stern was faded and peeling, her sides darkened with neglect, but nevertheless she was the flagship of Vice Admiral Buckner, commander-in-chief of the Nore, now humiliatingly turned out of his ship and ashore.}

_{Kydd grabbed the worn man-rope and went up the side. He was curious to take a measure of the man who had brought his shipmates to such peril. Stepping aboard he was met by two seamen. 'T' see Mr Parker,' he said.}

_{'Aye, we know,' one said, 'an' he's waitin' for ye now.'}

_{The ship was crowded. Men lay about the deck, barely stirring in attitudes of boredom; others padded around in not much more than rags. As well as the usual gloom of between-decks there was a reek of rot and musty odours of human effluvia.}

_{They thrust through, making their way aft, and into the cabin spaces. 'One t' see th' president,' called his escort. A seaman with a cudass came out, and motioned Kydd inside.}

_{It was the admiral's day cabin, with red carpets, hangings and small touches of domesticity. Kydd had never entered one before, but he was not going to be overawed. 'Th' admiral's cabin suits ye?' he said to Parker, who had risen from behind a polished table to meet him.}

_{Parker stopped, a slight smile on his face. 'It's the only quiet place in the ship, Mr Kydd,' he said pleasantly. 'Please sit yourself down, my friend.'}

_{Kydd brisded. He would be no friend to this man, but he thought better of challenging him openly at this stage. He found a carved chair with a gold seat and sat in it - sideways, with no pretence at politeness.}

_{'It's kind in you to visit, Mr Kydd. I know you don't subscribe to the validity of our actions, so I particularly wanted to thank you for the handsome way you helped the delegates aboard your ship.'}

_{'They're no taut hand as ye might say at words,' Kydd said carefully. This Parker was no fool: he was educated and sharp.}

_{'I should introduce myself — Richard Parker, for the nonce president of delegates, but sometime officer in His Britannic Majesty's Sea Service. My shipmates are happy to call me Dick.'}

_{'Officer?' Kydd said, incredulous.}

_{'Indeed, but sadly cast up as a foremast hand after a court martial as unjust as any you may have heard.' Parker's voice was soft, but he had a trick of seizing attention for himself rather than the mere offering of conversation.}

_{'Are ye a pressed man?' Kydd asked, wanting time.}

_{'No, for the sake of my dear ones, I sold my body as a quota man back to the navy. You may believe I am no stranger to hardship.'}

_{The dark, finely drawn features with their hint of nervous delicacy were compelling, bearing on Kydd's composure. 'Do y' know what ye've done to my men, Mr Delegate President?' he said, with rising heat. 'Y've put their heads in a noose, every one!'}

_{'Do you think so? I rather think not' He leaned across the table and held Kydd with his intensity. 'Shall I tell you why?'}

_{'I'd be happy t' know why not.'}

_{'Then I'll tell you — but please be so good as to hear me out first' He eased back slightly, his gaze still locked on Kydd's. 'The facts first. You know that our pay is just the same as in the time of King Charles? A hundred and fifty years — and now in this year of 'ninety-seven an able seaman gets less than a common ploughman. Do you dispute this?'}

_{Kydd said nothing.}

_{'And talking of pay, when we're lying wounded of a great battle, don't they say we're not fit to haul and draw, so therefore not worthy of wages?'}

_{'Yes, but—'}

_{'Our victuals. Are we not cheated out of our very nourishment, that the purser's pound is not sixteen ounces but fourteen? I could go on with other sore complaints, but can you say I am wrong? Do I lie in what I say?'}

_{'Aye, this is true, but it's always been so.'}

_{'And getting worse. You've seen this ship for yourself - the navy is falling into a pit of ruin, Tom, and there's no help for it. And because you've got uncommon good sense I'll tell you why.}

_{'Has it crossed your mind, there's been petitions from sailors going up to the Admiralty crying out with grievances in numbers you can't count, and for years now? Yet not once have we had a reply — not once! Now, I've been on the quarterdeck, I know for a cast-iron fact these do get carried on to London. But they never get there! How do I know? Because if they did, then we'd be heard and we'd get redress.'}

_{He let it sink in, then continued: 'You see, Tom, they're not meant to arrive. There are, up in London, a parcel of the deepest dyed rogues who have ever been, a secret and furtive conspiracy who have placemen everywhere, and live by battening on those who can't fight back - I mean the common seaman, who is away at sea and never allowed ashore to speak.'}

_{Kydd frowned. There was nothing he could think of that said this was impossible.}

_{'You doubt? I've thought long and hard of why it is that wherever we go in the sea service we always come on those who have a comfortable berth and leech on the poor sailor. Have you seen them in the dockyards?}

_{Such corruption, and all unchallenged! The victuallers, sending casks of rotten meat, the merchants buying up condemned biscuit and selling it back at a price — how can they cheat so openly? It's because they're protected by this conspiracy, who in return receive a slice of the proceeds ...' He sat motionless, the intensity of his expression discomfiting Kydd.}

_{'Now, Tom, whatever you think, this is the only logical reason for it being everywhere at the same time, and never being in danger of prosecution. My friend, if you can find another explanation that fits every fact — any other at all - I'd be thankful to hear it.'}

_{Kydd looked away. It fitted the facts only too well, and he'd heard rumours of a conspiracy at the top. Was Fox right, that Pitt himself was as corrupt as any, that ...}

_{'Ah, well, I have t' say, I've never really thought about it before, er, Dick. Ye'U pardon m' straight talkin', but c'n you tell me why you want t' be the one to — to—'}

_{Parker stood up abruptly. 'Humanity, Tom, common humanity. How can I stand by and see my fellow creatures used so cruelly, to see them in their simple ways oppressed by these blood-suckers, their dearly won means torn from them, degraded to less than beasts of the field?' He turned to Kydd, his eyes gleaming. 'I have advantages in education and experience of the quarterdeck, and they have done me the honour of electing me their representative — I will not betray their trust.'}

_{Moving like a cat, he sat down and faced Kydd again with the same intense gaze. 'Those brave men at Spithead, they gave the example, showed what can be done — we cannot let them down, Tom! They saw the injustices, and stood bravely against them. How can we let them stand alone? Are we so craven that we stand aside and take what others win by peril of their necks?'}

_{'You ask 'em to go t' the yardarm—'}

_{'No!' Parker said emphatically. 'I do not! Consider — the fleet at Spithead, Plymouth and now the Nore - all are now united, resolute. Does the Admiralty hang the whole fleet? Does it cause the army to march against the navy? Of course not. As long as we stand united we are untouched, preserved. If we hang back - but we did not, we kept the faith. And besides . . .' he left the words dangling, relishing the effect '. .. we now have word from Spithead - we have an offer. And it is for a full and complete Royal Pardon after we have had our grievances addressed.'}

_{It was incredible: the mutiny had won — or was winning - an unprecedented concession that recognised . ..}

_{'Now is the time! It is the one and only chance we will ever have of achieving anything! If we miss this chance . . .'}

_{His forehead was beaded with sweat. 'At Spithead they know only their daily rations and liberty. They strive for more bread in port instead of flour; more liberty ashore; vegetables with their meat — this is fine, but we can see further. We know of the rats gnawing at the vitals of the navy, and we're going to expose them, force them into the daylight. We have to be sure the whole world sees them for what they are and howl for their extermination.'}

_{Kydd was excited, appalled and exhilarated by turns. It all made sense, and here was one who was prepared to risk his very life for the sake of the men, his shipmates. And, above all, had the intelligence and resolve to do something about it. 'And if th' French sail?'}

_{'Ah, you see, they won't. At Spithead it was voted that, no matter what, if the French moved against England, then the fleet will instantly return to duty and sail against the enemy. They know this, so at this moment they lie in their harbours, unmoved.'}

_{Kydd took a deep breath. 'Then ye're still loyal - t' King 'n' country, I mean.'}

_{'We are, Tom,' Parker said seriously. 'What could be more loyal than ridding His Majesty of such base villains - these scum?'}

_{He rose unexpectedly and crossed to a cabinet. 'I want you to drink a toast with me, Tom.' He busied himself pouring. 'To success for our brave tars — standing against the whole world!'}

_{Kydd took the glass suspiciously. 'Don't worry, this is not the admiral's, it's common grog only,' Parker said, with a smile.}

_{'Aye. Well, here's t' our brave Jack Tars!' Kydd drank heartily.}

_{Parker moved to a chair to one side. 'Tom. Let me be straight with you,' he began. 'Your common foremast jack is not best placed to see the whole of matters. He is brave and honest, but without guile. His nature makes him the prey of others, he has not the penetration to see he is being practised upon. What I am saying is that there are many who do not see the urgency, the dire necessity of our actions at this time, and hesitate. This is a folly, and puts at great hazard all those who have seen their duty to their shipmates and acted.'}

_{He refilled Kydd's glass. 'We need men to declare their devotion to their shipmates, to end their hesitation, men that are fine and strong, men whom others look upon to set them a course to steer. Tom, we need you to stand with us. To give us your—'}

_{'No!' Kydd slammed down his glass, suddenly icy cold. 'Parker, I believe in what ye're doing, but this, is not th' way — it can't be!' He turned to go, flinging open the door.}

_{'Kydd!' called Parker from behind him. 'Just think on this. If you really care about your men, do something, but otherwise go away — and then try to live with yourself.'}

_{Kydd left, Parker's words echoing in his ears, again confronting the dank, crowded decks, the misery in the faces of the men, the air of hopelessness and despair.}

_{Only one thing kept hammering at his senses: he could no longer walk away.}

_{'You've been aboard Sandwich? said Cockburn flatly. 'You're not such a fool, Tom, that you don't know the penalty for treasonous association, consorting with mutineers. Just for the sake of curiosity, you'd let it be seen . . .' Something in Kydd's face made Cockburn tail off.}

_{'I know what I did.'}

_{Kydd left the gunroom and moodily made the upper deck. His mind was in a spin of indecision as he paced along slowly. Abreast the mainmast he stopped. A young sailor was working by the side of the immense complexity of ropes belayed to their pins that girdled the mast. Spread out on a canvas in front of him were blocks and yarns, fid and knife.}

_{Seeing Kydd stop he scrambled to his feet. 'Oh, Mr Kydd, I'm ter strap th' spanker sheet block 'ere fer the cap'n o' the mizzentop.'}

_{'Carry on, younker. But what's this I see? You mean t' work a common short splice, an' it's t' be seen b' the quarterdeck?' Kydd hid a grin at the lad's worried look. 'Well, sure enough, we usually use a short splice, an' for our sheet block we turn the tail to a selvagee — but this is upon the quarterdeck, an' Achilles is a crack man-o'-war. No, lad, we doesn't use an ugly short splice. Instead we graft the rope, make it fine 'n' smooth around the block, then other ships go green 'cos we've got such a prime crew who know their deep-water seamanship.'}

_{'But, Mr Kydd, please, I don't know yer grafting.'}

_{'It's easy enough — look, I'll show ye.' Kydd picked up the strap and shook the strands free, then intertwined and brought them together, very tightly. 'Now work a stopper each side, if y' please.' The lad eagerly complied. 'Now we c'n open out Y strands, and make some knittles — just like as if y' was doin' some pointin'.' Kydd's strong fingers plying the knife made short work of producing a splay of fine lines above and below the join. His coat constricted his movements so he took it off and threw it over the bitts. 'An' now y'r ready to graft. Lay half y' knittles on the upper part .. .'}

_{It was calming to the soul, this simple exercise of his sea skills: it helped to bring perspective and focus to his horizons — and, above all, a deep satisfaction. 'An' mark well, we snake our turns at the seizing — both ends o' course.' It wasn't such a bad job, even though it was now a long time since he had last strapped a block. He watched the lad admiring the smooth continuity of the rope lying in the score of the block and hid a grin at the thought of the captain of the mizzentop's reaction when he went to check the young sailor's work.}

_{He put his coat back on and resumed his pace, but did not get far. A midshipman pulled at his sleeve and beckoned furtively, motioning him over to a quiet part of the deck. 'What is it, y' scrub?' he growled.}

_{'Psst - Mr Hawley passes the word, he wants to see all officers an' warrant officers in the cap'n's cabin,' he whispered.}

_'What?.

_{'Please don't shout, Mr Kydd. It's to be secret, like.'}

_{'I've called you here for reasons you no doubt can guess,' Hawley whispered. The sentry had been moved forward and the quarterdeck above cleared with a ruse; there was litde chance of being overheard.}

_{'This despicable mutiny has gone on for long enough. I had hoped the mutineers would by now have turned to fighting among themselves - they usually do, the blaggardly villains. No, this is too well organised. We must do something.'}

_{There was a murmur of noncommittal grunts. Kydd felt his colour rising.}

_{'What do you suggest?' Binney said carefully.}

_{Hawley took out a lace handkerchief and sniffed. 'The ship is unharmed - so far,' he said. 'I don't propose that she be left in the charge of that drunken crew for longer than I can help.' He leaned forward. 'I'm setting up communication with the shore. This will enable us to plan a move against the knaves with the aid of the army garrison—'}

_{'Sir!' Kydd interrupted, his voice thick with anger. 'You gave your word!'}

_{'I'll thank you, sir, to keep your voice down, dammit!' Hawley hissed. 'As to my word, do you believe it counts when pledged to mutineers — felons condemned by their own acts?'}

_{'You gave y'r word not to move against them while y' had freedom of th' ship,' Kydd repeated dully.}

_{'I choose to ignore the implication in view of your — background, Mr Kydd. Have a care for your future, sir.'}

_{Kydd stared at the deck, cold rage only just under control.}

_{'I shall continue. When I get word from the shore that the soldiers are prepared, we take steps to secure their entry to the vessel, probably by night through the stern gallery. Now, each of you will be given tasks that are designed to distract the—' He stopped with a frown. 'Good God, Mr Kydd, what is it now?'}

_{Breathing raggedly, Kydd blundered out of the cabin. He stormed out on to the main deck, feeling the wary eyes of seamen on him.}

_{A realisation rose in his gorge, choking and blinding. If he was going to do something that meant anything for his shipmates - and be able to live with himself later — then it was not going to be by throwing in his lot with those who wanted to turn the sky black with the corpses of his friends.}

_{Kydd wheeled and marched off forward, scattering men in his wake. At the starboard bay, he stopped before the startled committee, panting with emotion. 'M' friends! I'm in wi' ye. What d' y' like me t' do?'}

* * *

_{He emerged shortly from the fore-hatch, defiant and watchful. By now the news was around the ship and he knew eyes everywhere would be on him. The seamen seemed to take it all in their stride, grinning and waving at him. He went further aft. The master was by the mizzen-mast, hands on hips, staring down at him. He reached the gangways and passed by the boat spaces. Binney was on the opposite gangway and caught sight of him; he turned, hurried aft and disappeared.}

_{He reached the quarterdeck but Cockburn pushed in front of him, barring his way. 'The quarterdeck is not the place for you any more, Kydd,' he said stiffly.}

_{'I've got ev'ry right,' he snarled and, thrusting Cockburn contemptuously aside, he stalked on to the quarterdeck. All those who were aft froze.}

_{Hawley strode out, and placed himself squarely in front of Kydd. He jammed on his gold-laced cocked hat at an aggressive angle and glowered at Kydd. 'You've just ten seconds to save your neck. Make your obedience and—'}

_{'Sir,' said Kydd, touching his forehead. His gaze locked with Hawley's, not moving for a full ten seconds. Then he deliberately turned forward. 'You men at th' forebrace bitts,' he threw, in a hard bellow. 'Pass the word f'r the delegates.'}

_{He turned slowly and waited until Coxall hastily made his appearance, Farnall close behind with a dozen men.}

_{'I lay a complaint. Against this officer.' Kydd's fierce stare held Hawley rigid. 'He means t' break his solemn word, an' move against you - us!' There was an awed shuffling behind Kydd. 'I demand he be turned out o' th' ship, an unsuitable officer.'}

_{There was hesitation for a fraction of a second: the incredible enormity of what he had done pressed in relendessly on Kydd, the knowledge that the moment could never be put back into its bottle, but in his exaltation that he had done right he would dare anything.}

_{'Get y'r gear, sir. One chest is all,' Coxall said firmly. Two seamen moved forward and stood on each side of the officer, much the same as they would for a man to be led to the gratings for lashes.}

_{'He's turned ashore — away larb'd cutter, Joe.'}

_{Shocked, Hawley turned to confront Kydd. 'I shall see you dance at the yardarm if it's the last thing I do on earth.'}

_{Coxall said evenly, 'Now then, sir, no sense in makin' it worse'n it is.'}

_{It was like waking yet still being in a dream. Kydd moved about the decks, passing familiar things, trying to bring his mind to reality, yet all the while recalling Hawley in the receding boat, staring back at him.}

_{Cockburn ignored him. The gunroom was full of tension, and it was impossible to remain, so Kydd slung his hammock forward. Some regarded him with wonder and curiosity, as though he were a condemned man walking among them.}

_{The master waited until there was no one near and came up to Kydd, removing his hat. 'It's a brave thing ye're doing, Mr Kydd, an' I need to say as how I admires it in you.' His hands twisted the hat and he finished lamely, 'If it weren't f'r m' pension coming ver' soon— which I needs for m' wife and her sister livin' with us— I'd be there alongside ye an' all.'}

_{In a half-world Kydd waited for word from the delegates — they said they needed to contact the president. He paced up and down, the exaltation ebbing little by little.}

_{Then word came. 'Fr'm Mr Parker. He wants yer to go aboard Sandwich — an' help 'im personal, like. C'n we bear a hand wi' yer dunnage, mate?'}

_{Parker was waiting for Kydd at the entry-port; his handshake was crisp and strong. 'A sincere welcome to you, my friend,' he said. 'Be so good as to join me at a morsel for dinner - we've a lot to discuss.'}

_{As Kydd sat down at the table, Parker's eyes glowed. 'Tom, it's very good to see you here. It was my heartfelt prayer.' Kydd beamed. 'But might I ask why're you in the rig of a foremast hand? Where are your breeches, your blue coat?'}

_{'O' course, I wanted to show me heart with our tars. Tell me, Dick, how goes things?'}

_{Parker pushed back his plate with a smile, hooked his waistcoat with his thumbs and tilted back his chair. 'Success is very near, Tom, be assured of that.' He jumped to his feet. 'Come with me.'}

_{They went out on to the sweeping curve of the admiral's stern walk. Before them was the entire anchorage of the Nore, dozens of ships of all descriptions, each tranquil and still.}

_{'There! You see? Every one is owing allegiance to the great cause we have set in train. Each one like a link in a chain binding to the next, so we have an unbroken bond uniting us all. And see them - ships-of-the-line, frigates, even fire-ships — all with but one mind.'}

_{'A rousin' fine sight,' Kydd agreed. The very presence of the fleet before him was a calm assertion of the lightness of their course, a comforting vision of thousands of like-minded seamen ready to hazard all for what they believed. He lingered, savouring the grand vista of men-o'-war about him, then rejoined Parker inside.}

_{He was sitting at the admiral's secretary's working desk, rummaging and assembling papers. 'So! To work, then. Now, what are we going to do with you, Mr Thomas Kydd? Achilles already has her delegates, and Sandwich is the Parliament ship for the fleet. No, I fancy your talents can command a higher position. You seem to have a practicality rooted in intelligence that I have seen rarely, and a loyal heart. However—' He pondered, then looked up, vexed. 'The delegates can be a disputatious and difficult crew at times and, I'm grieved to say, not always motivated by reasons of selflessness. In you I perceive a purity of purpose and a noble soul, and if only it were in my power to raise you high — but this is not possible. We are agreed to be an assembly of equals, and as president I - I can only be the voice of my people. I'm sorry, Tom.'}

_{'Don't ye concern y'self f'r me, Dick. I'll bear a fist with anythin' I can. Never did want t' top it the bigwig, anyway. But y' must find somethin' I c'n do — y' must have a clinkin' great pile o' things t' do?'}

_{Parker's face eased. 'Well, now, since you offer — you've no idea how much detail such a venture as ours commands, yet to neglect it is folly, leading inevitably to calamity and ruin. Consider this. We are many thousand, here together. How are we to be fed and watered without there are arrangements of supply? And if we vote on regulations of conduct, how are these to be given out to the fleet,, unless they are written out fifty times? Do accept to be my aide at least, I beg, and take these duties from my hands.'}

_{'Aye,' Kydd said firmly, 'I will.' This was something he could do that had clear value. He would find men who could read and write, set them up at their tasks, and he himself could be available to Parker as needed.}

_{'My very sincere thanks, Tom.' He held out his hand. 'I'll remember this day.'}

_{The papers were loosely organised: minutes of meetings, rough drafts of proclamations, messages from delegates - it needed pulling together. Kydd put a proposal to Parker: 'C'n I find two good men t' stand by me, an' a private cabin?' He would need somewhere his papers would be safe.}

_{'Of course. The admiral's dining cabin will not be entertaining this age — the table will serve well, and we may meet round it. I have in mind two who can assist. Both have their letters and are not friends to the bottle.'}

_{Kydd gathered his resources; he sent his assistants to secure boxes for the papers, then set about sorting and reading them. Parker had a fine, imaginative flair for words, with ringing phrases and legal-sounding threats. It appeared, though, Kydd had to conclude, that his inclination was more towards the florid than the detailed.}

_{At one point a well-built, fine-looking seaman entered the big cabin. 'William Davis, cap'n of Sandwich' he rumbled, with a hard-jawed grin. 'Do I see Tom Kydd, come fr'm the Caribbee?' 'Aye,' Kydd said.}

_{'Quartermaster's mate in Artemis as was, goin' aroun' the world? Gets turned over inta — what, some sail-o'-the-line?'}

_'Trajan'

_{'An' ends up in a squiddy cutter, saves 'em all after a spell in a boat?' 'Th' same.'}

_{'Then tip us yer daddle, cully,' he said warmly, holding out his hand. 'Thoroughbred seaman like you is who I wants now under m' lee while we're in shoal waters like this'n.'}

_{Kydd was grateful for the uncomplicated trust: Davis appeared the very best kind of blue-water seaman and he knew he had a friend in whatever lay ahead. 'Tell me, Bill, d'ye know much about Dick Parker?'}

_{Davis sat down, his seaman's gear - knife, marline spike, fox yarns around his neck — incongruous reflected in the deep mahogany of the table. 'Well, it's true about 'im bein' an officer, was a reefer in Mediator fer the American war, then shipped in Assurance but the poor bugger ran up agin Bully Richards who does 'im fer contempt. Court martial an' he's disrated 'n' turned afore the mast. Few years later, an' he gets ill an' goes ashore. Dunno what 'appened next, 'cos he ends up in clink fer debt, buys his way out b' volunteerin' fer the quota. Don't know much else — he's eddicated, you c'n tell that, comes fr'm Exeter, but wife in the north somewheres. But don't y' ask 'im too much about that, he's struck on 'er, very close they is.'}

_{Kydd worked through the afternoon; at five bells Parker returned. He was buoyed up as he greeted Kydd. 'If you'd wish it, there's room in the boat for another when I make my visits. It'll be a chance to see something of our achievement.'}

_{Kydd decided papers and lists, however important, could wait: it was about time he knew something of the greater arena.}

_{Before, the barge, a thirty-two-footer finished in green, scarlet and gilt and under fourteen oars, was to be seen conveying captains and admirals. Now it was crowded and noisy with oarsmen, two men arguing over a giant Union Flag, a seaman's band with trumpets, flutes and drums led by the ship's fiddler, and general revellers. Many wore ribbons threaded through their hats, some the popular band of blue with 'Success to the Delegates' in gold. There was no sign of liquor that Kydd could detect.}

_{Davis took the tiller, Parker and Kydd with him in the sternsheets. 'Where to, Dick?' Davis shouted, above the din.}

_{'Director - then Inflexible, of course, we'll see.'}

_{'Yair. Let go, forrard!' he roared at the bowman. 'Give way together, m' lads!'}

_{The boat surged away from Sandwich and the band struck up immediately. They approached Director: her ship's company, drawn by the merriment, lined her decks. Some mounted the rigging, and cheers sounded, rolling around the anchorage. Parker rose and waved, more cheers came. He looked down at Kydd, flushed and distracted, but there was no mistaking the elation in his face.}

_{They went about under Director's stern, the racket of the band echoing back from the formidable lines of the 64, then shaped course for Inflexible. As they approached the big ship-of-the-line there was the flat thud of a gun and smoke eddied away from the fo'c'sle.}

_{'A salute to th' president,' said Kydd.}

_{Parker acknowledged him with a smile. 'The Inflexibles are our most ardent,' he shouted, in Kydd's ear.}

_{Again the decks were lined, and cheers rang out. When Parker rose, this time he shook both fists in the air, bringing a storm of raucous applause. He repeated his success at the next ship, the frigate Proserpine, which promptly erupted in volleys of cheers. 'I believe this calls for a libation of sorts,' Parker said happily. 'Bear up for the dockyard steps, Bill.'}

_{Just as soon as the boat came alongside, the men scrambled ashore and formed up into a parade, as the band took up a rowdy thumping. The huge flag was proudly held high and taken to the front of the procession.}

_{'Do come with me, Tom. My place is at the fore, and you should share the honours.' Without waiting for a reply, he strode up to the head and bowed to the assembling crowd. Kydd followed, and eased into line behind Parker, who turned and pulled him abreast of himself.}

_{'Delegates, advance!' shouted Parker. The drums thudded twice rapidly, and the colourful procession stepped off gaily to the tune of 'Rule Britannia'. It attracted a noisy, adoring crowd that brought apprentices running, women leaving their work and small boys capering alongside.}

_{As the column swung away down the road, Parker waved affably at the spectators, bowing to some, blowing kisses at the ladies. At first Kydd could only manage a stiff wave, but after a laughing girl threw rose blossoms over him, he joined in with gusto.}

_{Around the corner and through Red Barrier Gate. Thumping lustily, the band brought the first of the Blue Town people running. Cries of 'Huzzah to the delegates - and be damned to Billy Pitt!' were heard. Beribboned sailors already ashore added to the uproar.}

_{A larger crowd waited at a timbered building—a tavern with a sign hanging, the Chequers. The band played a hurried final flourish and spilled inside. 'With me, Tom,' Parker called. Kydd found himself at a dark-stained table in the smoky interior.}

_{Davis arrived, his large frame wedging in the high-backed seat. 'Tom, me ol' cock, what c'n I get you?'}

_{Parker intervened. 'Kydd's with me, Bill, and I'll be having my usual. Tom?'}

_{'Oh, a stout pint o' the right sort'll do,' replied Kydd, happily. Parker's tipple turned out to be dog's nose, the splicings being a liberal dash of gin in the beer. The blue haze thickened in the tavern in due proportion to the noise and soon it was a merry throng that celebrated together.}

_{A seaman bawled for attention near the door. 'Dick Parker, ahoy!’}

_{Parker lurched to his feet. 'Who wants him?' he returned loudly.}

_{'Why, yer speechifyin' — when are yer comin', Admiral?'}

_{'I've said not t' call me that,' Parker grumbled.}

_{'Aye aye, Yer Majesty.'}

_{In front of the Chequers a space had been cleared and several boxes pushed together formed a stage, already bedecked with flags and boughs of greenery. A few chairs were in precarious position atop the boxes.}

_{A roar went up when Parker appeared. He stood to acknowledge the cheers, then jammed his beaver hat at a rakish angle and mounted the stage. Beaming, he held up his hands for silence, and the crowd subsided, while more ran up to catch the occasion.}

_{'Friends! Brothers!' he began, his face flushed. 'How dare their lordships presume to try the patience of the British tar, to deny him his rights, to ignore his courage and resource? I will tell you something that even these false ministers, these traitors, cannot conceive of — the true value of a British seaman!' He paused, and looked into the crowd. 'Ah, there he is!' he cried. 'Brother Tom Kydd, new-won to the cause. Come up here beside me, Tom!'}

_{There was a warm roar of welcome. 'Tom here was a master's mate in Achilles, but that didn't stop him standing for what he believed. The first lieutenant hales him to the quarterdeck and calls him to account — but Tom Kydd here, he tells him to sling his hook! So it's Heave-ho Hawley in the boat and turned ashore, mates, all because Tom didn't flinch when the time came. How can m' lords of the Admiralty prevail when we've got the likes of him in with us? Let's hear it for Brother Kydd, friends!'}

_{Chapter 8}