Snatching back the bottle, Kydd hurried after Renzi to the open air again.
'Secret coast signals — priceless,' whispered Renzi. 'But how—'
Kydd grinned back at him. 'Easy! Let's say you overheard the French prisoners talking among 'emselves, thought it proper to lay it before Blackjack that he might find somethin' interesting should he rummage the body.'
Chapter 2
'God rot their bones for an infernal set of useless lubberly rogues!' exploded the Admiral, his face reddening at the pressure of the starched collar at his neck.
His wife sighed in exasperation. 'Now, John, you well know how I disapprove of your sea language in the house.'
The Admiral held his tongue, acutely aware of how very little it would take to provoke him to indulge his rage. He took some satisfaction from casting loose the fastening of his high collar, hoping it would be concealed under the snowy lace cravat. 'You would bear me some sympathy, m'dear, were you to know the very considerable vexations I endure as a consequence of His Majesty's unexpected decision to visit,' he growled. He would get the sympathy, he knew, but not the understanding. King George's sudden decision to leave the capital, to witness personally the triumphant entry of the battered victor and her pri^e, was causing untold difficulties for the Port Admiral.
'Of course, my love, it must be a grievous trial to you.' Lady Clowes had her own views on what constituted a vexation: she was personally responsible for the success of the royal entertainments, and if they were a failure in any way it would be held against her, but if they passed off without drama she would be forgotten. She had only that odious flag lieutenant to assist her, and he a simple sea officer with no appreciation of the subtleties of Court etiquette. 'Try not to think about it too much, dear,' she added absently. Her thoughts were more on what to do with the ambitious Lady Saxton. The Dockyard Commissioner's wife was married to a mere post captain but he was a baronet: if these ambitions were to be contained she faced a nice dilemma ofprecedence at the Court presentations.
‘I beg pardon, sir.' The flag lieutenant appeared at the doorway. 'Damn you, sir! When we are—'
'My earnest apologies, sir, but we have had word from Brigadier Crossley,' the lieutenant broke in carefully. 'He desires you to know that the press of people now is such that he fears for the safe progress of the King's procession.' He waited, his eyes averted from Lady Clowes.
'Ah.' The Admiral felt his choler rising once more. So much for the Army — nothing to do but march up and down all day and now they couldn't be trusted to clear a path through the crowds. I shall attend in my office within the hour. Tm sure they'll hold till then,' he said testily.
'Sir,' the lieutenant acknowledged, and vanished.
John?' His wife had seen the signs and moved to head off the storm.
'Yes?'
'Be so good as to rehearse with me why this event is so glorious at this time,' she said demurely.
'It's simple, my dear. We're at war with a mad parcel of rascals who are unstoppable on land. This is the first time we've been able to try their mettle at sea as equals, and now we've proved they can be stopped. The country has good reason to be grateful to Captain Powlett, I believe.' The Admiral said no more, but he found he was rather looking forward to hearing about the now famous engagement at first hand.
* * *
Kydd slipped hand over hand down the fore-topgallant backstay to the deck, arriving breathless. 'Something amiss — I c'n see quantities of people, Nicholas, all th' way fr'm Portsmouth Point along t' the old castle.'
Renzi performed a neat belay on the line as he contemplated Kydd's excitement. If there really was any civil disturbance in Portsmouth they would not be proceeding calmly into harbour with their prize.
'There is talk that the French contemplate a landing,' he said.
Kydd looked at him sideways. 'There's something happened,' he retorted stubbornly.
They had reached a point some five miles off the Nab and the brisk north-easterly was making it tricky for them to gain ground towards Spithead, hampered as they were by their jury rig and Citoyenne under tow astern.
Sailors gathered on the foredeck to try to make sense of the tumult ashore. 'Fleet's still at anchor,' observed Adam, adding that this would not be the case were there any real threat.
Petit paused in his work, and tried to make out the anonymous multitude of humanity up and down the distant shore. 'Ain't never seen a crowd like it since the last age.'
'Oo's that, then?' said Stirk.
As Artemis approached St Helens, first one, then several small craft came around the headland. From their press of sail they appeared to be in some degree of commotion, their fore-and-aft canvas straining perilously in the sea breeze.
Artemis opened the angle into the last stretch before Spithead, the sailing boats pressing forward fast, with several larger hulks and lighters also creeping out towards them.
The first of the boats reached them. It was a small yawl, crammed with passengers who waved energetically. The boat hissed past and tacked smartly about, dangerously close. A second arrived, with figures clinging to the shrouds shouting a frantic welcome. Soon there were dozens of sailing craft, weaving and dodging, the raucous whoops from their passengers leaving no doubt why they had come.
'Well, glory be,' Petit breathed. 'It's fer us, mates.'
On the quarterdeck Captain Powlett emerged from the hatchway and paced slowly with a fixed expression. He
