Betrayal

me know when they’re mustered.’

‘Aye aye, sir!’

It was done. Now, with his orders safely on their way across the storm-torn waters, it was time to let Beresford know what he had in mind.

The general smiled thinly. ‘I can only suppose you are aware of the legal niceties, Captain. If there is a disinclination to assist and you have a confrontation then there’s nothing I can do to intervene or, indeed, shield you from the rigours of the law should they press suit.’

Kydd bit his tongue. That Beresford was honourable and upright was well known; that his high principles would prevent him giving his support to an action that would save his situation was taking it to absurdity.

‘I understand, sir,’ he replied evenly. ‘You have my word there’ll be no contravention of the law.’

He had until those ships were boarded to think of something . . .

The men were waiting when he returned. ‘Ask the duty lieutenant to join us with our usual interpreter cove,’ he ordered, surveying his party. These were good men, volunteers out of the big ships and reliable.

The lieutenant appeared, out of breath. ‘L’tenant Herrick. Sorry, sir, I-’

‘Stand easy, sir. I’ve something to say.’

He turned to the little group and stood in an uncompromising quarterdeck brace. ‘If you men are the kind of prime hands I think you are, looking for a frolic at the expense of the Dons, then today you’ll get your fill. I’ve word General Liniers thinks to cross secretly from another place. Only we can stop him and it may turn out to be a first- rate dusting.

‘Now, L’Aurore frigate is on her way to dispute with him. We’ve Staunch and Protector but need more sail and I’ve a notion where we’ll find it.’

He had their full attention and as he outlined his plan it turned to a fierce glee. ‘I’ll repeat – no man to raise a weapon unless he gets my personal order. Clear?’

Diadem’s launch was manned, Kydd himself taking the tiller, and they pulled for the schooner.

There were no colours evident – he would have to play this carefully.

‘Schooner, ahoy!’ he hailed. A frightened face appeared above a hatch coaming. ‘I’m coming aboard!’

Her low freeboard allowed him to step directly on to her deck and he wasted no time. ‘What flag?’ he demanded, miming the hoisting of one.

‘Ai-ya, Portuguee!’

Kydd heaved a sigh of relief. The Portuguese were neutral – but this was no Portuguese vessel. In his experience they still continued the old custom of the prominent display of a crucifix on the after-deck to which every officer and seaman made passing obeisance, and here the deck was bare. More tellingly, in his capacity as port captain, he had not heard of any such seeking clearance, their canny merchants keeping well away until the situation was settled. This had to be a local trader seeking to evade port dues.

He addressed the launch: ‘L’tenant Herrick and five, if y’ please.’ From below two more bemused crewmen appeared and then an apprehensive officer. ‘Inform this man of who I am, that I suspect his vessel of illegal entry to Buenos Aires,’ he told his interpreter. ‘And that I’m impounding it forthwith.’

It was unheard of to have the captain of the port himself board a harmless trader at the head of an armed party, but it had the desired effect. The officer babbled nervously, then waited while the interpreter said, ‘He say he forget t’ get his paper sign. Isn’t there some way he can . . . ?’

‘Possibly,’ Kydd said, stroking his chin. ‘Has he a cabin where we can talk?’

Some minutes later he came back on deck and, with a smile, made a mock bow to Herrick. ‘L’tenant, this is your new command. I wish you to ship guns and make motions before Colonia until relieved. Good luck.’

Now for the larger ship: it would add presence and should, with its row of false gun-ports, give pause to any troop-laden vessel.

It was anchored further out and the launch began shipping water from the still-boisterous seas. Resolutely they pressed on until they made its lee – but Kydd had noticed that this ship was an altogether different matter: its red flag with three vertical crowns proclaimed it a Danziger, which he remembered hazily was nominally under the Grand Duchy but in practical terms a fief of Prussia, disputed by Poland.

There was no other in sight that was as substantial and he had no alternative but to go through with it. As the boathook seized the main-chains he grabbed the man-rope and hauled himself over the gunwale – to be confronted by a bull of man who stood with his arms folded and feet planted on the deck.

‘Kydd, captain of the port of Buenos Aires,’ he said, in crisp tones. ‘You are the captain?’

‘Ja.’

‘Papers,’ Kydd said, making riffling motions.

They were produced in the old-fashioned saloon. As far as Kydd’s experienced eye could tell, they were faultless. And flourished last, like a trump card, were the entry papers to Buenos Aires, signed by Kydd’s own staff.

He snatched one up. ‘This charter party admits you’re trading with Spain, sir.’

Another paper was slapped down. It was a form of release, signed in florid detail by the Danzig authorities and counter-signed with margin notes by the British consul there.

‘Nevertheless, Captain, you have attempted to land cargo out of bond contrary to port regulations and I must therefore-’

‘I haf not broken bulk.’

The bald statement was irrefutable: if the freight had not been broached then the cargo was in the same legal position as that of any ship with part retained for the next port and therefore not subject to duty or exaction.

‘I jus’ wait for th’ Spanische to take back Buenos Aires.’

Kydd had been inclined to let him go, but this remark made him smoulder. A mischievous thought broke in – but if it went wrong there was no going back. ‘Sir – I have reason to believe you have been engaged in commerce with France, a belligerent power, in violation of your status.’

A look of open astonishment was quickly replaced by one of contempt. ‘So! You vill search me?’

‘Yes,’ Kydd snapped, and got up abruptly. If he was wrong in his estimate of the man, it would be nothing short of disastrous. He went up on deck and motioned to his men to come aboard. He whispered instructions to Bolt, the petty officer in charge, then stood back.

Instead of heading for the monkey-hatch to the hold forward, Bolt went straight to the master’s cabin, closely followed by the Prussian, who was now spluttering with anger. Ignoring him, the men looked for the small hatch let into the deck in which all captains kept private provisions. It was opened, and Bolt dropped into the little store-room – and, to Kydd’s intense relief, passed up three bottles. Of best French cognac, not the usual schnapps.

‘Another three down there, sir,’ Bolt called up helpfully.

Kydd allowed a look of grave displeasure. ‘Sir, I have proof positive that you have been in breach of the law. It is now my duty-’

‘Gott in Himmel - is for my use on voyage!’

‘Half a case? And more elsewhere I dare to say?’ Kydd said darkly. ‘No, sir. This will not do. Cognac is not to be obtained without you trade with the enemy. I think we must talk together, don’t you?’

Well before sunset, standing out beyond the Chico Bank, a small group of odd-looking ships under the flag of King George’s Navy made a brave sight, bound for rendezvous off Punta Pavon.

But for Kydd the feeling of elation had faded.

The cold reality was that there were only two effectives, Staunch and Protector. The schooner was off Colonia and the Danzig merchantman would be there but only as a hired vessel to sail about looking fierce and not to engage directly. Could they stand fast before the unknown number of ships that Liniers had been able to muster? L’Aurore had been summoned, but could she be relied upon to navigate the banks and shoals in time?

In his borrowed hammock in the saloon, sleep evaded Kydd. In the morning much would be decided. Into his mind came images of the unforgettable spectacle that he had witnessed – only the previous year – of Nelson’s fleet at Trafalgar sailing to glory as they defended England against invasion. Here he was, an admiral of his little fleet, in much the same position. Would he fail, succeed or die in the attempt?

At dawn they made landfall down the coast and spent the morning working up towards Punta Pavon. The