them from a ship? It would set her flags end-on. And in any kind of battle, with its vast amount of powder-smoke, flags would be invisible.
'So signals is the life for you?' Adams said.
'Seems t' be all plain sailing to me. And is a mort better than chokin' on smoke in the gun-deck!'
Adams adjusted his cravat. It was an open secret that a certain landlady was bestowing her favours liberally, under certain expectations not unconnected with Adams's solitary visits ashore. 'Pray don't be too cocksure, dear chap,' he said, with feeling. 'A reputation can be destroyed by false bunting just as easily as putting a ship ashore.'
Kydd smiled, but closed the book. He felt reasonably secure in his knowledge of signals and, despite Bampton's acid words, surely there could not be much more to add that he needed to say to a crowd of merchant seamen. With the ship about to sail, it made sense to sup on the fat of the land while they could. 'Nicholas! I have a fancy to step ashore again, are you interested?'
'Falmouth?' Renzi ruminated, hiding a smile. 'This is the Valubia of Virgil—you have probably overlooked that passage in
'Sir!' It was a small midshipman at the door. 'The captain, sir, desires Mr Kydd to attend on him before he lands, should it be convenient.'
'The convoy instructions have arrived, Mr Kydd,' Houghton grunted. His clerk scratched away to one side, a sizeable pile of paper mounting beside him.
'Sir.'
'And the convoy will sail in two days.' Houghton looked up at him. 'I am senior officer and I will be calling a conference of ships' masters for tomorrow afternoon at two. You will attend, of course, and will probably wish to prepare. My clerk, when he's finished, will disclose to you my private signals and wishes in respect of the escorts.
'Mark my words, I mean to brook no insolence from the master of any merchant vessel, and I will have obedience. I want you to make this quite plain.'
'Aye aye, sir,' Kydd said, turning to go. 'And may I have a convoy signal list?'
Houghton started in annoyance. 'Of course not! Have you forgotten they are secret? The losing of just one such can lead our convoy into ambuscade, the loss of millions, disgrace to our flag. All are accounted for, sir, and are now under guard—I'm surprised you see fit to ask such a thing.'
It was a shock: first, the level of secrecy to which he was now privy, but second, that he had not given it much thought. Simple courage and seamanship were no longer the only things that would matter in the future.
Houghton grunted. 'Very well. You may study a signal list in the lobby while Mr Shepheard is working. Any notes you take will be kept by him also. That is all, Mr Kydd.'
His heart sank; the mass of detail about fleet signals was exhaustive. Once under way and at sea each ship would be an island, unreachable except for these signals. Kydd leafed through the orders for distinguishing signals and vanes, then the instructions on to the formation of the convoy; it would apparently be a multi-column square advancing over the ocean. The name of each ship was filled in and assigned a number, which turned out to be its column and row position, and the three escorts were positioned around them,
The bulk of the details however, was taken up with resolving problems before they occurred. He turned more pages in dismay. Even putting to sea in good order required special flags to be hung out from odd places about the ship. A red and white weft at the mizzen peak indicated that a ship wished to speak, probably for some urgent concern; a signal of 492 required the unfortunate ship concerned to hoist a yellow flag and steer straight for an enemy in a warlike manner, imitating the action of a warship.
It went on: Kydd's eyes glazed. He began to resent the implied assumption that a naval officer could do anything at a moment's notice, and tried not to think of what he had to face in less than a day. Was it possible to get to grips with so much in that time?
Marines at the landing pier clashed to present arms when Captain Houghton stepped out of the boat, and more lined the way along Arwenack Street to the Customs House where the conference was due to take place.
With their marine guard Kydd paced along stoically behind Houghton and his first lieutenant, lugging the padlocked bag of signal instructions and trying to ignore the curious glances of the townsfolk. At the Customs House, a big, square-looking stone building with a brace of captured French cannon at the entrance, they were met by a prosperous-looking individual wearing an old-fashioned tricorne hat. 'Cap'n Houghton? Raddles, Collector o' Customs. Welcome to Falmouth, an' your convoy gentlemen are a-waitin' within.' They passed inside along a musty-smelling passage. 'Been here before, sir?' Without waiting for an answer he went on, 'The long room is where they meets mostly.'
They entered a large room with barn-style beams and imposing, floor-length windows. It was noisy, as some hundreds of plainly dressed and weatherworn seamen were present. The babble died as they entered, and those standing in groups moved to take chairs.
Kydd followed Houghton up the aisle to the front, conscious of heads turning. There was a small lectern, a chalkboard and a table. Just three chairs, facing the hundreds seated, waited.
Houghton took the centre chair and Kydd the left. Bryant was on the right. The talking died away. The collector introduced the officers briefly with a bow and a gesture, then left.
The captain wasted no time. He stepped up to the lectern and fixed his glare on the audience. 'I am senior officer of the escorts. On this voyage you will have ships of force with you, and need fear nothing from the French, as long as you sail agreeable to the plan. Runners will not be tolerated unless arrangements are in hand. Do I make myself clear?'
Kydd knew that runners were individual ships that tired of the slower speeds of a convoy and struck out ahead alone. They were taking a chance and were on their own, but stood to gain a lot when theirs was the first cargo landed.
'We have a favourable wind and I intend to proceed tomorrow forenoon with the tide. If you have any objections to the sailing plan you may see me in
