Quarterdeck

received. He knew why he had acted as he did, but the Admiralty might regard it as no less than treason.

Leaving the deadly Sambro Ledges well to leeward, the packet he'd caught back finally rounded the grey rocks of Chebucto Head for the run in to Halifax harbour. He had been away only days but it seemed like months.

Soon Kydd was standing on Water Street pier. He knew exactly what he had to do. He left his baggage at the shipping office and hurried down to the watermen's steps to hire a wherry to take him to the flagship at anchor.

The officer-of-the-day quickly got rid of Kydd to the flag-lieutenant.

'I have to wait upon the admiral immediately,' Kydd said tightly.

'You have an appointment, of course.'

'I'm just this hour returned from th' United States.'

The officer snorted in contempt. 'Good God, Mr Kydd, you know better than to come aboard hoping the admiral is at leisure to see you. Leave your reasons with me and—'

'L'tenant, unless you take me t' Admiral Vandeput this instant, you'll rue it, an' that is my solemn promise.'

'Very well. Be it on your own head. What ship, you say?'

The officer knocked softly on the door to the admiral's day cabin. 'Lieutenant Kydd, sir, HMS Tenacious. No appointment, but he seems monstrous anxious to see you.'

Kydd entered.

The admiral was at his desk frowning, his secretary standing nearby with papers. 'Yes?'

'Sir, I have a matter of th' greatest importance.' Kydd's voice came out thickly.

Vandeput looked at him steadily, then glanced at his secretary. 'Go,' he snapped, then turned back to Kydd. 'You're back from America. What is it?'

It took but small minutes to convey the gist of his experiences, ending with the final, shocking clash. 'Therefore, sir, I saw that if it happens again there's chance f'r a mortal fight or . . .'

Vandeput's expression hardened. 'And then?'

Kydd took hold of all his courage. 'I gave Captain Truxtun m' own signal book, which has all th' private signals for your fleet.'

There was an appalled silence, then the admiral said softly, 'You're saying this American captain now has possession of all our secret signals?'

'Aye, sir,' said Kydd, trying to keep the tremor from his voice.

'Well done.'

'S-sir?'

'A good, officer-like solution, L'tenant. Always worried me,

Americans at sea in a ship o' force sharing the same ocean without we have a form o' co-operation. The politicos won't go at it out o' pride, but now we've forced their hands. I can see how this can go further, Mr Kydd. As I say, well done, sir.'

Weak with reaction, Kydd swayed. 'Oh, I see it's been a fatiguing journey for ye, Mr Kydd,' the admiral said solicitously. 'Do sit, and I'll ring for a brandy.'

Kydd stared moodily at the town from the decks of Tenacious. He had been welcomed back by a newly respectful wardroom, but after a while conversations turned once again to the social scene. The whole town was mesmerised by the impending visit of the Duke of Schweigerei, elder son of the Archduke of Austria, which would climax in a grand reception and banquet given by His Royal Highness Prince Edward in the Duke's honour. In view of the importance attached to the country for its role in Pitt's coalitions, every officer would be expected to attend the glittering occasion.

Renzi had tried to be interested in Kydd's adventure, but he was clearly preoccupied with some personal matter, and Kydd found himself once more at a loose end. The seductive thought on his mind was of what might be — service in the new navy of a vigorous young land. No more would he hear of lords and estates, fox-hunting and the Season.

Kydd stirred uncomfortably and noticed the master, with a large notebook and folded chart, checking something over the side. 'Nothing amiss, Mr Hambly?' It was unusual to see the master at work on deck in harbour.

'Nay, sir, nothing t' worry you on,' he said. Then, seeing Kydd's interest, he explained further. It seemed that the new Admiralty hydrographic department had issued instructions to all sailing masters that anchorages they might from time to time visit should be surveyed by hand lead-line from a ship's boat with a view to verifying the accuracy of charts now in the course of preparation in England.

'A fine and proper thing,' said Kydd. Every mariner was at the mercy of his charts, whether dependable or false, and any endeavour that could lessen the fearful risks of navigation was a service to mankind. 'Where are you going t' start?'

'Why, Mr Kydd, it's kind in ye to enquire. I thought t' try the Bedford Basin—there, through the narrows, an' you'll find a fine body o' water twice the size of Halifax harbour there.'

A nearly perfect land-locked haven: a fleet could safely ride out a storm there. This was really worthwhile—an exercise of professional sea skills with a purpose. Kydd brightened. 'Mr Hambly, I'd like t' do some of this work m'self. Would you be s' kind as to show me on the chart?'

Kydd had chosen to begin his first line of soundings across the widest point of the basin to establish some sort of bottom profile. It was satisfying work, and congenial to the spirit. Real skill was needed to hold the octant laterally to establish the bearings ashore and provide the exact position of the pinnace. Poulden, in the bows, would send the hand-lead plummeting down, singing out in cadence the exact depth of water told by the marks. Kydd noted the time carefully; later, there would be work with tide tables to establish the true depth, corrected for the