Quarterdeck

Ceres take to reload and send another, better-aimed, broadside?

'An English ship!' Truxtun's roar carried down the deck and pale faces turned, then darkened in anger, menacing growls rising to shouts. 'I'll make 'em regret this! Mr Rodgers—'

'Do ye want war with England as well?' Kydd shouted. Livid, Truxtun hesitated.

'Hoist y'r white flag!'

'Surrender? Are you insane?'

'No—flag o' parley.' All it needed was for one over-hasty gunner on either side and the day would end in bloody ruin.

For a frozen moment everything hung. Then Truxtun acted: 'White flag to the main, Mr Rodgers,' he growled.

'He'd better be coming with an explanation!' Truxtun snapped to Kydd, as a boat under a white flag advanced, a lieutenant clearly visible in the sternsheets.

'Sir, be s' good as to see it from his point o' view. His private signals have not been answered and as far as he knows there is no United States Navy with a ship o' this force. You have t' be a Frenchy tryin' a deception.'

Truxtun gave an ill-natured grunt and waited for the boat. When it drew near Kydd saw the lieutenant stand and look keenly about him as the bowman hooked on. As he mounted the side angry shouts were hurled at him by seamen, which Truxtun made no attempt to stop.

'Now, before I blow you out of the water, explain why you fired into me, sir,' Truxtun said hotly, as the lieutenant climbed over the bulwark.

He had intelligent eyes and answered warily, 'Sir, the reason is apparent. You did not answer my ship's legitimate challenge and, er, we have no information about an American frigate at sea. Our conclusion must be obvious.' Before Truxtun could answer, he added, 'And remembering we are under a flag of truce, sir, I believe I might respectfully demand that you offer me some form of proof of your national status—if you please.'

'Be damned to your arrogance, sir!' Truxtun punched a fist towards the huge American flag above them. 'There is all the proof anyone needs!' Shouts of agreement rang out and seamen advanced on the quarterdeck. The lieutenant held his ground but his hand fell to his sword.

Kydd held up a hand and stepped forward. 'L'tenant, a word, if y' please.'

The lieutenant looked in astonishment at Kydd's bare legs, his civilian coat and breeches, soaked and clinging to him. 'Er, yes?'

Drawing him aside, Kydd spoke urgently. 'I'm L'tenant Kydd of HMS Tenacious, supernumerary aboard. I have t' tell ye now, this is a United States frigate true enough, and no damn Frenchy.'

The lieutenant's disdain turned to cold suspicion. 'You'll pardon my reservations, sir,' he said, giving a short bow, 'but can you offer me any confirmation of your identity?'

Kydd pulled his wet coat about him: a great deal hung on his next words. 'Very well, I can do that,' he said softly. 'Off Devil's Island not a month ago, Ceres was there when Resolution hangs out a signal to tack—in succession. Tenacious makes a fool of herself. I was that signal lieutenant.'

The lieutenant stared, then smiled. 'I really believe you must be.'

He turned to Truxtun and removed his hat. 'Sir, you have my condolences that this unhappy incident took place, but cannot concede any responsibility. This will be a matter for our governments to resolve. Good day, sir.'

The furious Truxtun did not reply, glowering at the man as he solemnly replaced his hat and went down the side to his boat, followed by yells of defiance.

What if it had been Tenacious instead? Kydd's thoughts raced—a ship-of-the-line thundering out her broadside? How could two proud navies cruise the seas without it happening again? They were at war with the same enemy—that was the main point. All else was pride.

'Sir.' Truxtun drew a deep breath and Kydd went on quickly, 'Be so kind as t' honour me with a minute of y'r time—in private.'

Truxtun turned to Rodgers. 'Stand down the men.' He stalked over to Kydd and stared at him. 'Very well—and then, for your own safety, sir, I'm confining you to your cabin until you're off this ship.'

'Thank you, sir.' Kydd felt he was being carried forward in a rush of destiny that could not be stopped, yet his mind was protecting him from the enormity of what he was contemplating by an odd detachment from reality.

'If I might go t' my cabin for a moment.' He was back quickly and went with Truxtun into his great cabin, closing the door behind him.

'One minute.'

'Sir. Captain—this is a madness. We must fight t'gether, not each other. So I'm now going t' trust you with my honour, an' I know it's not going t' be misplaced.' He could read nothing in Truxtun's stony face.

'Sir.' He gulped as he felt in his coat and withdrew a small pocket book. 'Sir, this is a copy of our secret signals. If you are challenged by a British ship you may safely reply with the correct private signal of the day, here, and at night challenge and response, here.

'Take it, sir, an' I know you'll protect its confidentiality with your own honour.' If the enemy ever got hold of its secrets, the ships of the Royal Navy would be at their mercy.

Truxtun stared at the book and then at Kydd. 'God rot me, but you're a brave man, Mr Kydd,' he said softly. He took the book and slipped it into his own coat. 'It'll be safe with me.' He held out his hand. 'I hope you do not suffer for this, but what you've done . . .' He clapped his hand on Kydd's shoulder. 'An honour to know you, sir.'

Chapter 12

KYDD HAD BEEN ABLE TO REASSURE STODDERT with what he had seen, and Liston had listened to his account of a new player on the world maritime stage with grave attention, accepting his considered opinion of the new navy as an effective force. But now Kydd must face his day of reckoning and his return to Halifax was charged with dread at how he would be