Artemis

'Where is Sarah?'

'She has a message for you. She is at present indisposed, but begs leave of a visit from you at her home.' 'Then I shall go t' her.'

The priest stood silently, watching, but Kydd did not change into shore breeches and buckled shoes. Wearing the familiar short blue jacket and white trousers of a naval seaman he made his way to the mansion. Ah Lee answered his knock and looked in astonishment at his appearance. Behind her, Sarah appeared and seemed taken aback also.

'Thank you, Ah Lee, I will receive Mr Kydd in the drawing room.'

She had dark rings around her eyes, and was dressed simply. The drawing room was large and forbidding, its dusty stillness at odds with Kydd's lively sea rig.

'Thomas, why do you not dress with more circumspection?' she asked.

Kydd said nothing, holding his sailor's hat before him and gazing at her seriously.

She seemed to pick up something of the gravity of his visit and straightened in her chair. 'Nevertheless, it was kind in you to visit.'

'Sarah, I don't believe it would be a good thing were we t' marry,' Kydd said, looking at her directly.

Only the slightest tremble of her hand betrayed her feelings. 'Stuff and nonsense, Thomas dear. You will soon get used to the land, you'll see,' she said, in a feminine way going straight to the heart of the matter.

'I've tried the longshore life, Sarah, and it don't agree with me—'

'Doesn't agree with you? Then consider me. Do you propose to take me out on the sea to live?' Her voice had an edge to it.

Kydd looked dogged. 'I would be a poor shab of a husband were I t' give up the sea and take up land ways.'

Her eyes grew hard. 'This is all a nonsense, Thomas. Other men can find it in them to settle down properly, why can't you?'

He didn't reply at first, wishing he had Renzi's powers to render with precision thoughts into words. 'It wouldn't be fair to you, Sarah. You deserve better 'n me.'

Her eyes filled. 'You simpleton, Thomas. It's you I want - need! You're a man, a strong and wonderful man, the only real man I've ever known.' She hurried across and knelt by his chair, imploring with her eyes. 'My love! We could be so happy together, you and I. Think of it.'

Kydd felt his own eyes pricking with tears, but he sat rigid. 'No, Sarah. It wouldn't be right, not fair for you.'

Leaping to her feet she screamed down at him, 'Not fair?

Not fair for me? What about me? Why don't you ask me what I think is fair?' She stood over him, the urgency of her passion beating at him.

He looked at her sadly. Her emotion broke and she sank to the floor in a paroxysm of tears. Kydd made no move to go to her, letting waves of sorrow course through him, choking him with their burden of grief. He stood up. There was no point in prolonging the moment — the sooner it was past the better.

She heard the movement, stopped weeping and glared at him. 'You've ruined me. Do you hear that? Ruined me.'

Kydd looked at her wordlessly, tenderly. The tears burned and stung. She glowered. He hesitated, then turned for the door.

'If you go through that door, I — I shall never see you again.' He paused but did not look back. 'Never!'

He stumbled forward. 'Thomas!' she screamed.

He opened the door and floundered out on to the street. He could still hear her despairing cries inside as he lurched away, lost in the most acute desolation it was possible to bear.

His shipmates left him well alone. Renzi squeezed his shoulder, once, then dropped his hand, unable to find a word to say about what was in his heart.

The first messages came, pleading, begging, pitiful. Kydd read each one with a set face and steadfastly remained aboard. Renzi did what he could: he went ashore, but Nunez was 'indisposed' and the door of the residencia would not open for him.

Later a small figure could be seen at the boat landing, but the Captain had strong views about women aboard. The figure remained staring out and was still there when the cold night drew in.

For Kydd time hung heavy and bleak, but he had resolved to take the consequences of his decision without complaint. The story of his time of trial spread, and in their warm, generous manner the sailors found little services they could do for him, rough expressions of sympathy and comradeship.

Next morning, the Captain arrived aboard in a tearing hurry and almost instantiy a fo'c'sle gun banged out and the Blue Peter broke at the fore topmast head. Smiles were to be seen everywhere. They were under sailing orders.

Kydd couldn't take his eyes off the lonely figure still on the quay. What agonies of mind would she endure when she learnt that the ship and he would soon be a memory in an empty anchorage? At least it was now over.

'Haaaaands to unmoor ship! Haaands to make sail!' The pealing of boatswain's calls cut into the cool morning air, and the ship burst into life. All the well-remembered duties of a ship outward bound, the tang of sea air, the blessed imperatives of good seamanship.

At the larboard cathead Kydd found the strop and ranged the fish tackle ready for the big bower anchor. When he looked again at the landing place, the figure was no longer there. The anchor was won from the pale mud of the Pearl river, and Stirk clapped on to the tackle with him. Far above, Renzi and others cast loose the gaskets of the