Doud laughed. 'Yeah, he could at that — we landed sick more'n a brace at Calcutta.'
Petit looked doubtful. 'Aye, but y'knows that a sojer is always a sojer. How, then, are yer goin' ter make sailors outa them?'
The breeze freshened on the open ocean, and the blue sea with its hurrying white horses seemed to sense the urgency of the mission. The frigate's movements became more lively, a barrelling roll in the following wind and sea, and the deck gradually cleared of passengers, returning to its usual seamanlike expanse.
Revelling in the crispness of the air after the heavy humidity Kydd went forward. They loped along under easy sail down the long swells of the ocean, the Indiaman trying its best two miles astern. Kydd went to the ornate voluted beakhead and leaned on the rail. Below him the bow-wave foamed and roared, a broad swash of white spreading out each side from the stem. The figurehead, the chaste white figure of Artemis, thrust out a hunting bow as if to urge the rest of the ship to follow, a splendid icon for a prime predator of the seas.
The sea was much closer than in his previous ship, the big three-decker, and the sensation of speed was thrilling. Everything about the frigate suggested speed - her sails were perfectly cut to the yards and sheeted in so taut they hardly bellied. Her clean lines resulted in a fine-drawn wake and the jib and fore staysails flying down to the bowsprit-seemed to arrow the ship forward. Reluctantly Kydd made his way back: this was his favourite place.
He stepped behind the canvas screen of the sick-bay and groaned at the sight of the two soldiers. 'Now y' please to pay attention.' They looked eagerly up at him from their cross-legged position. 'Y' didn't do so well on th' last sea word I gave ye — here's a new one, see if y' can do a bit better. Show th' Captain how you know y' ropes.'
Their guileless expressions made Kydd sigh, but he persevered. 'Th' word 'start', we uses it with care, f'r it has more'n one meaning. If we use it about a cask o' water, this means t' empty it, see, but if we talks about our anchor, then o' course it means to move it a piece. An' to start bread has the meaning f'r us to turn it out of its bags and casks an' stow it together in bulk — but when we talks about t' start a butt-end of a plank, why, that's serious, it means that the seas have sprung it an' we're takin' in water fast.' Kydd tried to ignore their glassy stares. 'On deck, if we starts the tack or sheet, it means t' loosen it, like 'raise tacks an' sheets' when we goes about. An' the carpenter, when he wants t' move a contrary bolt, he starts it with a starting bolt.'
Scrufty Weems muttered, 'If this is yer 'start' then God 'elp us at the 'finish'!'
'An' if you're slack in y'r ways on deck, you c'n be sure there's a bo'sun's mate'll start ye with his rope's end, sure enough.'
Kydd knew they had to get the two soldiers before the Captain very shortly, for any real stowaways would have shown themselves as soon as the ship reached the open sea. 'Now, c'n ye tell me, what are the sea watches in order, startin' with the middle watch?'
With the northerly monsoon driving boisterously at them from astern, and the positive effect of the clockwise ocean vortex of the Bay of Bengal, they made excellent time south, aiming for the Malacca strait, the narrowing passage between Malaya and Sumatra.
'Down, y' scurvy dogs!' Kydd thrust the two soldiers at the feet of Captain Powlett, who had just begun his morning pace of the quarterdeck.
'What the devil?' Bunce and Weems had on old sailors' gear, but their walnut juice disguise had faded to a scrofulous blotchy streaking.
'Stowaways! Found 'em in the forepeak, sir.'
Powlett stared. The men got to their feet, staggered slightly at a playful heave of the deck, but touched their foreheads smartly enough.
'Aye, sir, we'em from the old
Powlett glowered. 'So you thought to desert your shipmates and join the King's Service when it suited you.'
'Whoy, no, sir!' Bunce replied. 'The boat is in, er, ball'st, waitin' this two month fer a cargo, an' we're rare flummoxed as t' how to get out ter sea agen.'
'What rate are you?'
'Sir?'
Kydd said quickly, 'Claims they're able seamen, sir.'
'Oh, yez, that's what we are, then,' said Bunce.
'Then be so kind as to climb the larb'd mizzen shrouds and touch the cro'jick tye block,' said Powlett lazily.
Bunce caught Kydd's hurried hand signal. 'Ah - we would, er, do that if'n we worn't so bad in th' back. See, we had to 'aul up on this mast thing, an' it did fer me back, it did. Be roight in a coupla days, I guess.'
Powlett's smile thinned. 'And you?' he asked Weems, who started with apprehension.
'Me too, yer honour, I wuz with 'im when we both did in our backs.'
Fairfax pushed forward. 'Wharf rats, that's what they are!' he spluttered. 'They're no seamen! We must put 'em ashore, sir, before—'
'No — recollect, sir, we are on a mission of some delicacy,' Powlett said. 'No one goes ashore.'
He paced around the pair, jaw clamped. 'We landed three sick at Calcutta, I must allow as the appearance of this pair is not unwelcome.' He stopped, and a thin smile appeared. 'Mr Fairfax, rate these two Landman, but as Mr Kydd found them, he can be responsible to see they measure up.'
The two soldiers snapped to attention, saluted smartly Army fashion and doubled away forward. Jaw dropping, Powlett stared after them; Kydd quickly touched his hat and mumbled, 'I’ll see they measure up, sir,' and hurried after them.
A bare week later they had passed the new settlement of Penang to larboard, keeping close in with the land to
