Kydd bowed and allowed himself to be introduced. 'Cap'n Bainbridge. Welcome aboard, Commander. Might I offer you some refreshment?'
The pinnace lay off; Bowden could be trusted to keep his boat's crew in order and be ready for the signal to return. 'That's kind in ye, Captain,' Kydd said politely.
The great cabin was plainly furnished but clean, with a sense of newness and the scent of North American pine. 'Ye have me at a disadvantage, sir,' Kydd said carefully, over some wine. 'We were at our watering, as you can see.' If there was going to be any friction then it would be this: access to the single water source.
'Our intention also, Commander.' Bainbridge was an impressive figure, over six feet tall and with a striking fore-knot in his plentiful hair. 'I've a ready respect for your service, Mr Kydd, and that's no secret. Why don't you take your fill of the water and we'll stand by until you're done?'
'That's handsome in ye, sir, but I know th' spring an' there's enough f'r us all. We'll take it together, cask b' cask.'
'A good notion. We'll do that,' Bainbridge said genially, and got to his feet.
'Sir,' Kydd said earnestly, 'I was in th' United States when y'r quasi-war with France started. It strikes me there's grounds here f'r—who should say?—mutual assistance against th' aggressor?'
Bainbridge's eyes went opaque. 'Commander, the quasi-war is now concluded.'
'Ah. So—'
'The treaty of 1778 is no more. We are neutrals, sir, and will faithfully abide by our obligations. I will wish you good day, sir.'
It had been worth the try, but it did not furnish the real reason for an American presence so deep into the Mediterranean. 'Sir—may I know of y'r interest in these parts, if y' do not think it impertinent t' ask?'
'I do. Good day to you, sir.' He conducted Kydd back on deck.
Out in the sunlight Kydd blinked, aware of every eye on him. 'Thank ye, sir, f'r your hospitality—it's a very fine ship y' commands.'
He passed a silent Decatur, sensed the burning eyes following him and was making to step over the side when someone grabbed his shoulder. He swung round and saw a grinning officer holding out his hand. 'Be darned—and this must be Tom Kydd as was. A commander, no less! '
'Aye. An' don't I see Ned Gindler afore me?' It was half a world away from Connecticut but the same friendliness that had so cheered him as a new lieutenant again reached out to him.
'Well met, Ned!' Kydd grinned. The deck remained silent and still about them. Kydd turned and crossed to Bainbridge again. 'Sir, it's not in m' power t' return y'r kindness to all of ye in my little ship, but it would give me particular pleasure t' welcome L'tenant Gindler aboard.'
'Thank you, Commander. Mr Gindler would be pleased to accept. Until sundown, Lootenant?'
Gindler lifted his glass to Kydd. 'Well, I have to declare, she's one trim lady—I guess she's handy in stays?'
'She is that,' said Kydd, smugly. 'A real flyer on the wind. Not as you'd say spankin' new, but she'll get a lick o' paint when we have time,' he added defensively.
'You must be very proud, Tom,' Gindler said softly, looking at Kydd with an enigmatic expression. 'Captain of your own ship, and all.'
It brought Kydd up with a start: what were his present worries compared to what he had won for himself? 'A noble thing it is indeed, Ned. Do ye know, I have more power than the King of England?' At Gindler's quizzical look he added, 'I may hale a man before me an' have him flogged on the spot—by the law of the land this is somethin' even His Majesty may not do.'
It brought laughter from the American but all Kydd found he could manage was a lop-sided smile. Gindler's amusement receded. 'My dear fellow—if you'll pardon my remarking it, your demeanour is not to be expected of a grand panjandrum. No, sir! Too much bowed by care and woe in all . . .'
Kydd's smile turned to a grimace. 'Aye, I will admit t' it.' He stared through the pretty stern windows at the bright, sunlit sea outside. 'I have m' ship, this is true, but unless I can shine in its command I'll have t' yield to another. And there's no glory t' be found in small-ship work, all convoys 'n' dispatches, so how am I to find it?' Gindler started to come in but Kydd went on bitterly, 'We got word of a French corvette in these waters an' I was sent to bring it t' battle. My one chance—but the cruise is finished without so much of a smell o' one.'
He looked up half hopefully. 'Ye haven't word of it at all, Ned?'
Gindler murmured noncommittally.
Kydd's eyes fell. 'Then, o' course, you havin' made y'r peace with the French you'll be honour bound not t' tell me even if ye knew.' Gindler continued to look at him wordlessly.
Tossing off his wine, Kydd changed his mood. 'But here I sit, neglectin' m' guest! Tell me, Ned, have you hopes y'self for an advancement at all?'
Gindler's face shadowed. 'You may recall, friend, that our war is finished. We're now neutrals not just in name. No war, we don't need ships—or officers is the cry.'
'Did m' eyes deceive? Is not
Looking uncomfortable Gindler replied, 'Yes, but I have to say there are few more.' He hesitated, then went on, 'We have a new president, m' friend, a Thomas Jefferson. Now, in the past we've been handing over bags of gold to the Barbary pashas to keep from raiding our trading ships. Jefferson loathes this craven knuckling to pirates and hates even more what it's costing us. We are here to do something about it.'
Kydd made to refill his glass, but he shook his head. 'Have ye?'
'Not—yet.'
'You—'
