Julian Stockwin - The Admiral's Daughter

Kydd tried to brighten. "Why, here we lie at anchor in Devonshire, th' foremost in the kingdom in the article of lamb. Our noble cook fails in his duty, th' rogue, if he cannot conjure some such meat."

The cutlets were indeed moist and succulent and at last Renzi spoke. "I can conceive of above a dozen matters that may yet prove insuperable rocks and shoals to our objectives."

Kydd waited impatiently for the cloth to be drawn, allowing the appearance of a salver of marzipan fruits. "Crafted y'r Chretien pear an' Monaco fig damn well, don't y' think!"

"Just so," Renzi said, not to be distracted. "You will want to be apprised of these preclusions, I believe."

"If y' please, Nicholas."

"The first is yourself, of course."

Kydd held silent: there was no point in impatient prodding, for Renzi would logically tease out a problem until a solution emerged—or proved there was none.

"Very well. Some matters are readily evident, the chief of which is that this scheme requires I be placed in a condition of subjection to you, which the rule and custom of the sea demands shall be absolute. You shall be the highest, I . . . shall be the lowliest."

"Nicholas! No! Not at all! I—I would not . . ." Kydd trailed off as the truth of his friend's words sank in.

"Exactly." Renzi steepled his fingers. "I journey on your fine bark as a member of her crew—if this were not so there would be no place for me. Therefore we must say that the Articles of War bear on me as scrupulously as upon the meanest of your ordinary seamen and with all the same force of law."

Kydd made to interrupt but Renzi went on remorselessly: "As captain you cannot make exception. It therefore necessarily demands that I should be obliged to make my obedience to you in all things." There was a finality in his tone.

"Does this mean—"

"It does. But, my dear fellow, it is the most logical and consequently most amenable to sweet reason of all our difficulties." A smile stole across his features. "To leave issues unsaid, to be tacit and therefore at the mercy of a misapprehension is pusillanimous, thus I shall now be explicit.

"I do not see fit to vary my behaviour by one whit in this vessel. I see no reason why I should be obliged to. Do you?"

At a loss for words, Kydd merely mumbled something.

"I'm glad you agree, brother. Therefore from this time forth I shall render to the captain of HMS Teazer every mark of respect to his position in quite the same way as I allowed the captain of Tenacious, Seaflower, Artemis . . ."

"Aye, Nicholas," said Kydd, meekly.

"Splendid! In the same vein I shall, of course, discharge the duty of captain's clerk in the fullest sense—any less would be an abrogation of the moral obligation that allows me victualling and passage in Teazer, as you must surely understand."

"Y'r scruples do ye honour, m' friend—but this at least can be remedied. Cap'n's attendance take precedence: ye shall have a sidesman o' sorts, a writer, fr'm out of our company." Even before he had finished the sentence he knew who. Luke Calloway, who had learnt his letters from Kydd himself in the Caribbean would be completely trustworthy and on occasion would not object too strenuously to exchanging the holy-stone for the quill.

"But then we must attend to more stern questions." These had to wait as the table was cleared and the brandy left, and the captain and his visitor had resumed their easy chairs.

"Stern questions?"

"Some might say of the first martial importance. You wish to be assured of the conduct of every member of your company in the event of a rencontre with the enemy, including that of myself. This is your right to ask, and I will answer similarly as before. As a member of Teazer's crew I have my duties in time of battle as has everyone aboard."

"As a clerk? This is—"

"As a clerk, my quarters are strictly specified, and these are to attend upon my captain on the quarterdeck for the period of the engagement. I shall be there—this you may believe," he said softly.

Kydd looked away, overcome.

"And if Teazer faces an assault upon her decks from without, I shall not feel constrained in defending myself and my ship. This also you may believe." He paused. "But in any affair that calls for noble leadership, the drawn sword at the head of a band of warriors—there you will see that, by our own devising, we are denied. I am a clerk, not even a petty officer, and no man can thus be made to follow me. As bidden, I might carry a pike or haul on a rope but otherwise . . ."

Renzi was laying down terms for his continued existence in Teazer, or more properly defining limitations that tidied things logically for his fine mind. Kydd hoped fervently that there would be no situation in the future that tested the logic too far.

He found the brandy and refreshed their glasses. "Ye spoke of—preclusions, m' friend. Here is one!" Renzi regarded Kydd steadily. "How can it be right f'r a man o' letters, sensible of th' finer points, t' be battened below like a . . . like a common foremast jack?"

It was said.

To Kydd's relief Renzi eased his expression. "Do you not remember my time of exile in the company of Neptune's gentlemen? It was my comfort then to remark it, that the conditions were to be borne as a necessary consequence of such a sentence.

"I now take notice that there is a similarity: in like manner to your monk or hermit scratching away in his cell in his sublime pursuit of truth and beauty, there are conditions contingent on the situation that may have to be endured as price for the final object. Should I not have the felicity of voyaging in Teazer then I fear my purse would not withstand an alternative course, and therefore I humbly accept what is so agreeably at hand.

"Fear not, dear fellow, I have years at sea that will inure me and, besides, this time I have a sanctum sancti where at any time I may take refuge to allow my thoughts to run unchecked—I need not point out to you that the keeping of sea watches now, mercifully, will be a memory for me."

"That's well said, Nicholas—but you, er, will need t' talk out y'r ideas, try out some words or so . . ."

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

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

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

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