Command

bound brigantine in currants?'

Kydd shook his head.

'It would probably amaze you to learn that the ship—if tolerably new—would be of the order of some migliaia of scudi. If we then add in the desideratum for insurance and other expenditures on the vessel, the capital outlay on the cargo and loss of expected profit, then the depredations of these vermin stand as an impossible burden on any merchant and therefore deleterious to the trade of Malta as a whole.'

Kydd nodded and added quietly, 'An' not t' mention y'r sailors slaughtered by the Moor, Mr Mason.'

Finally the cloth was drawn and the chevalier stood up; fine words were said, then Mason took the chair. 'My lord, the distinguished ladies and the gentlemen of Malta here gathered, we are come this night to do honour to the Royal Navy—and in particular the brave Commander Kydd who . . .'

Pink with embarrassment Kydd sat through it, only relieved that he had not let down his ship or her company.

'And so I give you Captain Thomas Kydd!'

He stood and a footman entered bearing a tray. On it were two articles of handsome silver, which Mason lifted up and presented to him. He accepted them graciously.

When he turned to address the guests, he was ill-prepared for the storm of applause and cries of support that echoed about the room. It was all he could do to stutter something about stern duty, the trade of Great Britain and the new prosperity of Malta, but it seemed to suffice and he sat down.

'Well spoken, sir,' said Mason, and the rest of the evening passed in an agreeable blur of sociability.

'Mr Bonnici, if ye has the time, I'd like t' speak with you in m' cabin.' The master followed and sat, politely attending. 'I've promised Commissioner Cameron a war cruise, let the Frenchy know we're about, an' I'm exercised to know as t' where we should go to annoy them the most.'

Bonnici's brow furrowed. 'Sir, wi' respect, this is not a thing for I, a sailing master,' he replied slowly.

Operational matters were for the commissioned officers and Kydd knew that, strictly, it was improper to approach him. 'I understand, Mr Bonnici,' he said, 'yet you'll hold better acquaintance than we with th' waters in the eastern Mediterranean, I fancy. It is y'r opinion only that I'm seeking—the decisions are mine.'

'Er, it is my difficulty, sir. If some—gentlemen in Malta hear I tell you where t' go for taking the private ships . . . it may be they think I do this for other reason.' Bonnici's family were all in Malta and in their closed community would bear any suspicion if it seemed questionably coincidental that they had appeared suddenly on the scene. Kydd would have to make his own guesses.

'I see. On another matter entirely, may I have y'r opinion? Should Teazer go south- about to th' Sicily Channel this time o' the year? Do you think this a . . . wise course?'

Back on deck, Kydd checked again the progress with the new main course. Purchet seemed to have it all in hand. The main-hatch was off and stores were coming aboard; Teazer could keep the seas for several months, if necessary, but water was the limiting factor. He watched the seamen hoist the big barrels aboard— the Maltese were doing well, laying into their tasks with a will, their clothing now far more in keeping with a British man-o'-war. It was all deeply satisfying: it would be Teazer's first true independent cruise, something that every captain of a man-o'-war yearned for.

But what was particularly pleasing to Kydd was the new mainsail. It had cost some keen thinking to figure how to spread a sail, complete with all its gear, on the biggest yard in the ship where none was before. Even a stout chess-tree needed to be fashioned and bolted on the ship's side forward to take the tack of the new sail out to windward when close-hauled, exactly the same as could be seen in a ship-of-the-line.

Teazer was settling into her routine and, to Kydd's critical eye, was showing every evidence of contentment. He knew the signs: easy laughter from seamen as they worked together, good-natured rivalries out on the yardarm, the willing acceptance of orders where surly looks would be the first sign of discontents.

He knew that he himself was on trial: he was expecting the men to follow him into peril of their lives but they would not do this unless he had first won their trust, their respect. He had reached the first stage, a wary deference, which he could tell from their direct gaze but ready responses. There were ways sailors had of conveying their feelings—he would instantly recognise silent contempt, but he had seen nothing of it.

There was a tentative knock at his open cabin door; Kydd could see Bowden and some others.

'My apologies at the intrusion, sir, but these men have something on their mind and they'd be obliged if you'd hear them.'

Kydd looked sharply at him. 'What's this, Mr Bowden? Do ye not know—'

'Sir, I think you should hear them.'

There was something in his tone that made Kydd pause. He looked at the foretopman standing next to Bowden. 'What is it, Hansen?'

He was a reliable hand, not given to trivialities. 'Sir, if y' pleases, we got a worry we think ye should know of,' he said quietly.

His eyes slid away to the others for support as he talked and Kydd felt the first stirring of unease. Deputations as such were punishable under the Articles of War and they were taking a big risk in bringing it before him like this. 'Well?' he growled.

'Sir. Could be we'll be voyagin' quite a ways soon,' Hansen mumbled.

Behind him another, older, hand said, more forcefully, 'Aye, an' this means we have t' be ready.'

'F'r rats!' added a third.

'What th' devil is this all about, Mr Bowden?'

'Er, I think they mean to say that Teazer being a new-built ship, she doesn't have yet a full crew on board. They tell me they're very concerned that our stores and provisions are as yet still unprotected . . .'