Betrayal

pots, jars of spirit and anything else he could find over the mess. He struck some sparks but they went out before they could catch the flammables – he had to get nearer to the dangerous mixture. An eddy of the sharp stink of fumes hung in the air, and when he struck again they caught in a whoomf of searing flame. He staggered back, temporarily blinded, but felt the hands of a man behind plucking him out and steering him for the hatchway.

His eyes cleared in the open to see the other sloop plunging vengefully towards them but Staunch was there, hauled under the bowsprit, and Kydd thankfully dropped to its deck. Now for the crowning moment – if it came off.

‘Back down our track,’ he snapped, when he reached the wheel. It caused frowns – it was the course home, but would take them past the returning sloop, which would not hesitate to salute them with a broadside.

The two vessels closed. ‘Bear away to leeward, if you please,’ Kydd said tightly, his eyes on the Spanish. This would take them downwind of the bigger ship – which was precisely what he wanted. ‘A trifle more, I think.’ It would not do to appear too brazen.

It was not long before they met: a fleeing mosquito of a craft, trying to make the open sea in time, and a righteous avenger. And the temptation was too much – with no flames from their work yet outwardly visible on the other sloop the Spaniard put over his helm and lunged for them, probably relishing Kydd’s mistake: at this point of sailing it was going to be the square-rigged ship that had the advantage.

Kydd watched the sloop gradually close, and set his trap. ‘A little to larboard – that will do.’

Now it was all down to the cupidity of the Spanish captain, so eager to cap his day by taking both craft. They were passing the end of the island, where the long finger of a point entered the water. And Kydd now remembered the significance of the wind backing northerly: in this vast funnel of sea an easterly blowing in would have a heaping effect on the mass of water, resulting in a greater depth. With this backing to the north, it would be released and-

The effect of several hundred tons of ship striking at speed on the underwater spine of rocks was dramatic. Instantly the ship slewed and the fore-mast, bowed forward under press of sail, fell majestically, quickly followed by the main, transforming a fine creature of the sea to a ruin.

Disbelieving yells of triumph went up and the young captain turned to Kydd with such admiration that he felt a blush rising. ‘Sir – you knew he’d follow.’

‘Then let it be a lesson to you, sir,’ he said modestly.

Flames were now shooting up from the fore-deck of the grounded sloop and the boats coming out from the shore were hanging back – as Kydd had intended: the fore magazine was not far from where they had started the fire.

Selby looked over at the distant figures clambering disconsolately over the wreckage of the other. ‘Sir, shall we . . . ?’

‘No, my friend, we’ll leave ’em to it.’ There was no point in finishing it – both sloops put down was a quite acceptable result. In any case, there was still something he had to do.

When they arrived, Dolores was still aground but now quite deserted and ready to be restored to the British flag.

‘Mr Garrick – do you desire to take up your command again?’

There was little damage aboard for it appeared the Spanish had been more concerned with searching for booty and keeping their prize in good condition. All it took was a modicum of skilful seamanship to have her towed off the bank.

Kydd swelled with satisfaction. Even in the face of his little fleet there was no chance Liniers would risk a crossing now. Let the Army strut and parade: it was the Navy that had held the line.

When they arrived back at the mole Kydd could feel an oppressive, uneasy atmosphere. As he reached the waterfront he caught averted glances, lowered voices, the sudden stilling of laughter. Things were changing fast.

He went to his billet. It was the same there, a stiff disinclination in the ladies of the house for conversation, the children running off, and Rodriguez formidably polite but of few words. Kydd left quickly.

At the fort, Beresford was still out on inspection and Kydd wearily made his way to the officers’ mess to take a meal and seek company.

On seeing his Royal Marines lieutenant he called over, ‘Ah – Mr Clinton. Might I sup with you?’

‘I’d be honoured, sir.

‘We’ve just heard of your success on the other shore and we’ll all rest the better for it.’

‘Thank you. A diverting occasion for a clerking warrior, I’m bound to say.’ Kydd turned his attention to the food – a hot breakfast would be a welcome change, but the egg that was placed before him was small and discoloured with an unmistakable reek. ‘Stale and off, damn it. Steward!’

Clinton looked uncomfortable ‘Sir. I beg you – he’s not to be blamed. The situation with victuals is getting insupportable, the city market near deserted, and we dare not go into the country to secure our own. I fancy we’ll be on short canny before long.’

Kydd sat back in dismay. That it had come to this so quickly was a serious development.

Clinton went on, ‘All the transports have been stripped of provisions and been sent up and down the country to try to get more at any price, but in a hostile province I think not.’

‘Has the commodore-’

‘Yes, he’s been informed,’ the lieutenant said matter-of-factly. Naturally it was squarely the senior officer’s problem. He ventured, ‘Sir, should you wish to take the temper of Buenos Aires we could go for a stroll and . . .’

Kydd felt he was being invited for a reason and fell in with the suggestion. They walked out of the fort into the main square. Here again there were few people: a handful of forlorn basket traders, a couple of children running and the familiar grind of the high-wheeled water carts. For the rest there was an uncanny silence.

They passed into a minor street and heard the tramp of boots, the squeal of fife and drums. As they emerged on to a main street they saw a broad column of redcoats with a splendidly ornamented sergeant major to the fore. The few people watching stared dully or turned their backs.

Clinton snapped to attention, Kydd did the same, and they were acknowledged with screamed commands and a salute by the sergeant major. The soldiers marched stolidly along in widely spaced threes, not at all with the crisp professionalism Kydd had come to expect from these veteran troops. As they passed he recognised, to his astonishment, L’Aurore’s purser’s steward stepping it out in a corporal’s tunic and, further on, the duty coxswain.

‘Daily we rope in every idler we can find – servant, boat-boy, shore party – dress ’em up in uniforms and ask them to march about for a period. Notice how they’re spaced apart. We hope it gives the locals the impression we’ve numbers beyond what we really have,’ Clinton explained.

‘I see.’

‘I must allow it’s a powder-keg, sir. Forty thousand kept at bay by one and a half. If they take it into their heads . . .’

Kydd nodded gravely, then asked, ‘Er, by now you know Buenos Aires well enough?’

‘Why, there’s continuous streets and buildings all of two miles long and a half wide, and it spreads out far into the country. You’ll be wondering how we keep watch and ward, I fancy. Well, as to that, the general desires that we make a presence everywhere we can, so we’ve posts on the roads regulating entry into here, and roving patrols and sentries at important locations. I’ve stood sentry-go as a private myself, just to see the lie of the land, but our biggest problem is men. Even in two watches we can’t really secure a city this large.’

‘Are the men in good heart?’

‘They’re doing their duty, sir,’ Clinton said firmly.

‘Do sit and take a taste of wine, Mr Kydd,’ Beresford mumbled, through his food. ‘I’ve not yet eaten today, and I’m clemmed.’

He finished his modest meal quickly and turned to Kydd. ‘A capital action against the ship-sloops, sir. We’re safe – for now. You’ve heard of our difficulties with provisioning?’

‘Sir.’

‘The commodore has sent the victuallers Elizabeth and Mary on a cruise to chase up supplies but I’m not sanguine we’ll find any in the province.