Julian Stockwin - Tenacious

What was more significant were the soldiers now pouring out of the fort and flooding down the road. Where were they going? Were they reinforcements for Addaya? Whatever, this called for a "negative" and "heading for Fornells" and Kydd briskly plied his red shirt, the bodice again and a woman's shift.

When this had been completed he turned his attention back to Addaya. The experienced Highlanders had stormed ashore and he could catch the glint of their bayonets as they spread out in the brush. They were not meeting much resistance and Kydd saw why: the rough road away was streaming with soldiers in disor-der—they were falling back, not prepared to be cut off in a heroic last stand. That would be a definite "negative," "troops at Addaya," then.

Now the road from Fornells was streaming with men moving away—no question that these were reinforcements for Addaya: this was a "negative," then "troops at Fornells," and suddenly Kydd realised his job was done.

"Sir—they're abandoning Fornells."

"Or reinforcing Addaya." Stuart was not to be stampeded. The landings at Addaya appeared to be well in hand—Duckworth had a repeating frigate relaying news from there—but there was every reason to expect the Spanish to throw everything into a savage counter-attack.

The signal lieutenant reported once more: "Sir, they're on the retreat from Addaya." Stuart harrumphed and stalked up and down, but there was no mistaking his look of triumph.

Commodore Duckworth, however, was not so easily satisfied. He left the general, moved to the lee side of the quarterdeck and called the signal lieutenant to him. "This is damned irregular, sir! I have not seen you refer once to your signal book and all the time you're advisin' the general of the conduct of the war. Where is this shore station you say is passin' the signals?"

"Er, I think Mr Midshipman Bowden can answer to your satisfaction, sir."

Bowden touched his hat respectfully and explained: "Mr Kydd found it impractical to rig a mast and halliards ashore, sir, but conceived of a private code. If you'd take the telescope and spy out the top of Mount Toro—yes, sir, more to the top of the outside wall at the end—there you'll see his last hoist."

"I see a Spanish signal mast, none else."

"If you'd look a little lower, you'll find hanging out the three-flag hoist, 'negative,' 'at Addaya.'"

"I see nothing of the sort! Only ..."

"Yes, sir. A red Minorquin shawl, a black bodice and a blue pair of men's pantaloons."

"Explain, damn you, sir!"

"Mr Kydd reasoned that everything the general had to know could be sent by two significations, the first, location, being one of Fornells, Addaya or Mercadal, the other to be the military event, being one of marching towards, or massing at, the location. It requires then only a 'negative' prefix to reverse the meaning and the code is complete."

"And the flags?"

"We could not use our flags. It would have alerted the Spanish. And, as you can see, sir, the distance is too great to make out detail. Therefore he used colours: in this way he could make use of anything, as long as the colour could be distinguished. Red for 'negative,' white for 'marching towards,' blue for 'Addaya.'"

"Yes, yes, I see. Most ingenious. Hmm—I look forward to making further acquaintance of Lieutenant Kydd."

From his eyrie Kydd watched marines make their way ashore in Fornells; they would take possession of the forts and the English would be established irrevocably ashore. It was certain to be victory—and he had played a central part in it. With a welling of contentment he raised the spyglass again to watch the consolidation at Addaya.

"We must go," Isabella said, distracted.

Kydd could not tear himself from his grand view, and the thought of another night in a dank cave was not appealing. He remembered that the next planned move was a march on Mercadal close by. If the English forces had reached so far already then it was more than probable they would reach the town and Monte Toro the next day.

He would sit it out where he was. "Isabella—if y' understands—I'd like t' see how it ends. Can y' ask José if I could stay here tonight?"

She left in tears of emotion and Kydd resumed his vigil at his spyglass. More men landed at Fornells; with a tug of pride, Kydd saw seamen rig lines ashore to land artillery pieces. Once there, they passed drag-lines and began man-hauling the guns along the roads inland. The end could not possibly be in doubt.

"Brindemos por la victoria!" José's affable toast came as he handed Kydd a glass of Xoriguer.

"Thank ye—whatever y' said! Must say, sir, this is a rare drop. Y' good self, Mr José!"

"Who the devil—?" stuttered Colonel Paget, in command of the approaching troops. Kydd was wearing his begrimed uniform recovered from the cave, without cocked hat and sword.

"L'tenant Kydd, HMS Tenacious, y'r duty, sir. I make apology f'r my appearance."

"As you should, sir," the colonel replied, eyeing Kydd askance. "And may I know why you are not on your ship?"

"Sir?"

"The Spanish fleet at sea and not you? Hey? Hey?"

"Sir, I've spent several days behind th' Spanish lines an' have not had news. I'd be obliged if you'd confide th' progress of the landing."

"I see. Well, sir, be assured we're rolling up their rearguard in fine style and have this hour taken Mercadal. The Spanish are retiring on Ciudadela—General Stuart is in pursuit but has required me to take a fast column to lay against Port Mahon. I am at this moment at the business of forming it up."

"The Spanish fleet, sir?"

"Yes, yes," Paget said testily. "It seems they were sighted falling on us from the west and the commodore took all his ships to sea to meet 'em. There's none still here, Mr Kydd."

Kydd ground his teeth and cursed his luck. That morning while he had been cautiously making contact with the advancing soldiers Tenacious was now possibly in a climactic battle that would decide the fate of Minorca. If this was the Cartagena fleet they were in serious trouble.

"Sir, what ships were sighted?" Kydd asked urgently.

"Dammit—five, six big ones, I don't remember," the colonel said, clearly tiring of the exchange.

For Kydd it was mortifying news—and left him stranded with no way to rejoin his ship. But he could not stand idly by while others went on to face the enemy. "Sir, I do offer m' services to ye. Mahon has a dockyard an' big harbour and it would be very strange if there weren't any ships there. I could help ye secure 'em as prizes."

Paget raised his eyebrows. "And, no doubt, put yourself in the way of some prize-money." Kydd bristled but Paget went on genially, "But you're in the right of it, sir—I'll need someone who knows the ropes to make sure the dons don't set the dockyard afire or any other foolishness. Right, sir. Your offer is handsomely accepted. Do ask the quartermaster for something a little more fitting for an officer, if you catch my meaning. We move off at dawn."

In a startling mix of buff army breeches, a navy lieutenant's coat and an infantry cocked hat, Kydd went out to meet the seamen just arriving after man-hauling the guns overland. The pieces would soon be finding employment in laying siege to the walled town of Ciudadela.

"Good Lord above! Of what species of warrior are you, sir?" said the young naval lieutenant in charge of them.

"Why, in th' uniform t' be expected of the officer-in-charge o' the naval detachment in the assault on Port Mahon," Kydd said loftily.

"Naval detachment?" the man said, puzzled.

"Yes. I mean t' press half a hundred of y'r men, if y' please." A quick glance told him that at fifty men each on the dozen or so guns there were more than five hundred in all, probably contributed evenly by each ship in the squadron including his own: they could spare a tenth of their number.