Quarterdeck

other way back.'

'In fog, and at night? I'd be interested to learn what you did, Mr Kydd.'

'Caused us quite some puzzling, sir, but I'll stake m' life that Mr Rawson here would be very pleased to explain th' reasoning.'

Rawson started, then said smugly, 'Oh, well, sir, we all knows that f'r any given line o' longitude—the meridian, I mean—the moon will cross just forty-nine minutes after the sun does, and falls back this time for every day. After that it's easy.'

'Get on with it, then.'

'Well, sir, we can find the moon's southing on any day by taking the day of her age since new, and multiplying this by that forty-nine. If we then divide by sixty we get our answer—the time in hours an' minutes after noon when she's dead in the south, which for us was close t' eight o' clock. Then we just picked up our course again near enough and—'

Houghton grunted. 'It's as well Mr Kydd had such a fine navigator with him. You shall take one of my best clarets to the midshipmen's berth.' Unexpectedly, the captain smiled. 'While Mr Kydd entertains me in my cabin with his account of this rencontre.'

Chapter 5

THE NEWFOUNDLAND CONVOY was now safely handed over off St John's, along with Viper and Trompeuse, the ship signalling distress in the fog missing, presumed lost. Tenacious hauled her wind to sail south alone to land her French prisoners and join the fleet of the North American station in Halifax.

As they approached there was a marked drop in temperature; chunks of broken ice were riding the deep Atlantic green of the sea and there was a bitter edge to the wind. Thick watch-coats, able to preserve an inner retreat of warmth in the raw blasts of an English winter, seemed insubstantial.

Landfall was made on a low, dark land. It soon resolved to a vast black carpeting of forest, barely relieved by stretches of grey rock and blotches of brown, a hard, cold aspect. Kydd had studied the charts and knew the offshore dangers of the heavily indented rock-bound coast flanking the entrance to Halifax.

'I'm advising a pilot, sir,' the master said to the captain.

'But have you not sailed here before?' Houghton's voice was muffled by his grego hood, but his impatience was plain: a pilot would incur costs and possibly delay.

Hambly stood firm. 'I have, enough times t' make me very respectful. May I bring to mind, sir, that it's less'n six months past we lost Tribune, thirty-four, within sight o' Halifax—terrible night, only a dozen or so saved of three hundred souls . . .'

While Tenacious lay to off Chebucto Head, waiting for her pilot, Kydd took in the prospect of land after so many weeks at sea. The shore, a barren, bleached, grey-white granite, sombre under the sunless sky, appeared anything but welcoming. Further into the broad opening there was a complexity of islands, and then, no doubt, Halifax itself.

The pilot boarded and looked around curiously. 'Admiral's in Bermuda still,' he said, in a pleasant colonial drawl. 'Newfy convoy arrived and he not here, he'll be in a right taking.'

Houghton drew himself up. 'Follow the motions of the pilot,' he instructed the quartermaster of the conn.

With a south-easterly fair for entry, HMS Tenacious passed into a broad entrance channel and the pilot took time to point out the sights. 'Chebucto Head—the whole place was called Chebucto in the old days.' The ship gathered way. 'Over yonder,' he indicated a hill beyond the foreshore, 'that's what we're callin' Camperdown Hill, after your mighty victory. Right handy for taking a line of bearing from here straight into town.'

Running down the bearing, he drew their attention to the graveyard of Tribune. Up on rising ground they saw the raw newness of a massive fortification. 'York Redoubt—and over to starb'd we have Mr McNab's Island, where the ladies love t' picnic in summer.'

The passage narrowed and they passed a curious spit of land, then emerged beyond the island to a fine harbour several miles long and as big as Falmouth. Kydd saw that, as there, a southerly wind would be foul for putting to sea, but at more than half a mile wide and with an ebb tide it would not be insuperable.

Tenacious rounded to at the inner end of the town, there to join scores of other ships. Her anchors plummeted into the sea, formally marking the end of her voyage.

'Gentlemen,' Houghton began, 'be apprised that this is the demesne of Prince Edward, of the Blood Royal. I go now to pay my respects to His Royal Highness. I desire you hold yourselves ready, and when the time comes, I expect my officers to comport themselves with all the grace and civility to be expected of a King's officer in attendance on the civil power.'

The wardroom took the orders with relish. Every port had its duties of paying and returning calls; some were more onerous than others, with entertainments that varied from worthy to spirited, but this promised to be above the usual expectation.

For Kydd it would be high society as he had never dreamed of. Receptions, royal dinners, lofty conversations. All grand and unforgettable. But would he be able to carry it through like a true gentleman? Just how could he strut around as though born to it? It was daunting—impossible.

Soon the wardroom and spaces outside became a beehive of activity with servants blacking shoes, boning sword scabbards, polishing decorations, and distracted officers finding deficiencies in their ceremonials. The ship, however, lay claim to attention first: dockyard stores brought from England were hoisted aboard lighters and taken in charge, and a detachment of the 7th Royal Fusiliers came aboard to escort the regimental pay-chest ashore.

Fore and aft, Tenacious was thoroughly cleaned down, then put in prime order: the cable tiers were lime whitewashed, brick-dust and rags were taken to the brasswork, and cannon were blackened to a gloss with a mixture of lamp-black, beeswax and turpentine. Bryant took a boat away and pulled slowly round the ship, bawling up instructions that had the yards squared across exactly, one above the other.

Then the first invitations came. The captain disappeared quickly, and Pringle, who had old friends in Halifax, vanished as soon as he was decently able, accompanied by Lieutenant Best. The others prepared to find their own way ashore.

'Spit it out, man!' Adams demanded. The note handed in by a messenger was addressed to Renzi, who gravely