Command

looked aft questioningly.

'Going aboard,' Kydd called. There was his baggage to be roused out and landed and—above all—his new ship to be claimed, in proper style. His pulse beat with excitement as he stepped on deck. Should he proclaim his impossible elevation? He fought down the impulse and tried to reason coolly. But there was only one course that his hot spirits would allow. He would go to his ship that very hour.

That would not be so easy: to all the world he was still a lieutenant, and until he had the uniform and appearance of a commander it would be an impertinence to appear in his new vessel. Might there be a naval tailor and outfitter on the island after only six months in English hands?

The demand to take up the command before it faded into a dream was now impossible to deny. And in any case, he reasoned, he would need a place to lay his head that he could call his own. But what were the procedures for invading the territory of a hundred men and assuming a feudal lordship that demanded their unquestioning obedience? It all seemed so wildly incredible—except for the solid reality of the precious words of his commission now nestled against his chest.

Kydd brushed aside the idle questions of the frigate's officers taking their fill of the scene ashore and strode for the cabin spaces. The marine on duty outside the captain's cabin indicated it was occupied and Kydd rapped firmly on the door. 'Come.' The tone was even.

'Sir, please forgive m' gall in calling on ye at this time, an' you would infinitely oblige me should you . . .'

It was only after a firm promise to dinner in the very near future that Commander Kydd left the cabin, this time with a borrowed epaulette firmly in place on his left shoulder, denoting his new rank, and a gold-laced cocked hat athwart.

As he emerged on deck, conversations died away. There was a faint 'Good God!' Kydd turned to look coldly at the lieutenant, who hurriedly raised his hat, quickly followed by the others. It would give them something to talk about in the wardroom that night.

'If y' please, pass the word for Midshipman Bowden.' Kydd's head was brimming with plans, and he would need an accomplice in what followed.

Brushing aside the wide-eyed youngster's stammering recognition he snapped, 'So, you've volunteered for the Malta Service, Mr Bowden? Then I'm to inform ye that as of today y'r a young gentleman aboard Teazer sloop, fittin' out in the dockyard.' He would attend to the paperwork later.

'Y-yes, sir. And—and you're—'

'I am her captain, Mr Bowden.'

*  *  *

The frigate's barge threaded through the busy harbour. Although eager to make out which of the vessels would be his, Kydd held himself upright and unsmiling.

'Oars.' The midshipman coxswain brought the boat alongside the quay and Kydd disembarked. Seamen landed his baggage and the coxswain asked respectfully if they should lie off.

'No, thank ye,' Kydd replied. 'I shan't need you again. An' my compliments to y'r captain for the fine passage t' Malta.'

It was done, and no turning back. 'Mr Bowden, kindly watch over the baggage.' With a firm step, Kydd went into the offices next to a triple archway marking the entrance to a small boat-slip and yard. After service in a Caribbean dockyard he knew better than to bluster his way forward. 'Good morning, sir,' he offered, to the suspicious functionary who met him. 'An' I have an appointment with th' commissioner, if y' please.'

'Mr Burdock? I do not recall—'

'Thursday at ten?' Kydd took out his watch and peered at it. 'I do beg pardon if I'm wrong in th' details but —'

'At ten? Then if you'll step this way, sir.'

The commissioner looked up, distracted. 'Who's this?' he muttered at his clerk.

Before the man could open his mouth Kydd intervened smoothly: 'Ah, Mr Burdock. It's so kind in ye to see me so soon—Admiral Keith did assure me of y'r good offices . . .'

'In . . . ?'

'In the matter of clearing a berth for y'r important inbound vessel expected directly for repair an' refit, o' course.'

'The master attendant hasn't seen fit to inform me of such a one.'

Kydd frowned. 'Damn quill-pushers! But then again, could be that, given her captain is . . . who he is, an' the ship so well known . . .'

'Who—'

'Admiral Keith needs t' ensure discretion, you understand,' Kydd said, looking around distrustfully. 'This is why he's sent me to ensure a clear berth before . . . Well, the brig Teazer was mentioned as being near complete.'

'Impossible—she's not fit for sea in any wise!'

'Oh, why so, sir?' said Kydd, innocently.

'Teazer? She's not even in commission.' It was becoming clearer: repair jobs on his books would bring in a far more satisfactory flow of cash if turned over quickly than long-drawn-out completion work; a vessel in commission had immediate recourse to the purse-strings of the fleet's commander-in-chief and therefore cash on the nail to disburse to demanding contractors.

'Why, sir, we can remedy this. I've been particularly asked by th' admiral to commission and man the brig—I had been expec-tin' to spend some time first in seeing th' sights but if it would oblige . . .'

'That's handsome enough said, sir,' said the commissioner, his manner easing. 'When do you . . . ?'