and was nominally transferred to the Downs defensive inshore division. It was now a matter of controlling frustration and preparing for the time when she would return to the offensive.
Meanwhile it was not good that seamen, keyed up for any sacrifice, were spending their days in idleness. Kydd was too wise in their ways to contemplate more harbour tasks of endless prettifying and pointless restowing, and allowed them relaxed discipline, with liberty from midday. However, it bore heavily on his spirit to lie stagnating while others sailed to face the odds.
There was a marked coolness about Calloway, but it was an ideal time for both the midshipmen to exercise their craft and Kydd saw to it that they were duly occupied.
On the fifth morning dawn broke on a falling barometer and a veering wind. The sea stretched hard and dark, like gunmetal, out to a luminous band on the horizon under a greying sky. There was no mistaking the onset of uncomfortable weather, but equally there did not appear to be any ominous swells heaving in massively to warn of the approach of a gale.
Kydd, not yet fully confident of his knowledge of sea conditions in the English Channel, crossed to Dowse. 'Foul weather, I think?'
'Aye. Out o' the east.'
This meant it would be one of the unaccountable continental blasts that could reach gale proportions within hours but because it had passed entirely over land would be given no chance to establish a fetch, the long, powerful seas induced by the same wind over hundreds or thousands of miles that were common in the Atlantic. It would be unpleasant but not deadly.
The sailing master sniffed the wind and stared upwards as he estimated its speed by clouds passing a fixed point in the rigging. 'A sharp drop in th' glass. It could be a pauler or it might pass. I'd say it t' be the first, sir.'
'Mr. Purchet, we'll turn up the hands to secure the ship for a blow, I believe.' They were safely within the Downs, largely protected from anything in the east by the Goodwins, but Kydd was too respectful of the sea to leave anything to chance. They would lay out another bower, veer away cable on both and have the sheet anchor on a slip stopper along with the usual precautions.
'An' strike topmasts, sir?'
'If you please.' Even if it did turn out that it was a passing blow it would do no harm to perform the exercise. 'Oh, and let the first lieutenant know if we have any stragglers ashore, would you, Pipes?' Apart from needing a full crew on hand for any eventuality there was the requirement to have a tally of men aboard, such that any missing after the blow would not be assumed swept overboard.
By mid-morning the wind had hardened and steadied from the east-north-east and the first white-caps appeared. Snugged down, though, there was little to fear, only the endurance of
'An easterly,' Renzi said, looking up from his writing in the great cabin.
'It is,' Kydd grunted. 'A fair wind for the French, but I have m' doubts that even for His Knobbs, Napoleon the Grand, they'll put to sea in this.'
His tea was now slopping into its saucer, a wet cloth on the side-table necessary to prevent it sliding off. It would be his last for a while, but with a bit of luck they should be over the worst by the next morning and could then get the galley fire going again.
Kydd wedged himself more tightly into his chair, which had been secured to its ringbolts, and reflected ruefully on sea life in a small ship.
After a tentative knock, Purchet looked in at the door. 'Er, a word wi' ye, sir.'
Kydd stood. This did not seem to be an official visit.
'Thought ye'd like to know of it first. See, Mr. Calloway ain't aboard.'
'Does the first lieutenant know?'
'Um, not yet, sir.'
'Thank you for telling me, Mr. Purchet.'
The boatswain waited.
'Er, I'll take the matter in hand m'self—no need t' trouble Mr. Hallum.'
'Aye, sir. An' if ye wants . . .'
'Well, yes. On quite another matter, tell Mr. Moyes and Mr. Tawse to step aft, would you?'
The boatswain nodded and left. If it ever became official, Calloway was in deep trouble: breaking ship after a direct order from her captain was at the least desertion and would most certainly end in a court-martial with the destruction of his career.
Renzi closed his book. 'I, er, need to chase up a reference,' he said hastily, passing Moyes and Tawse as he left.
Moyes was a new-made master's mate and took his duties seriously, but when Kydd questioned him about one of his reefers he could throw no light on the disappearance. 'Thank you, Mr. Moyes, you can go.'
'Mr. Tawse,' he said, as menacingly as he could, 'I want you t' tell me now where I can find Calloway, and I'll not take no for an answer.'
The little midshipman turned pale but stood his ground. 'He's— he's not on board,' he whispered.
'I know that, you simkin! If he can be got back aboard before this blow stops the boats running, he's got a chance t' avoid serious consequences, so where's he t' be found, younker?'
Tawse flushed and stared stubbornly at the deck.
'I'm not talking about a mastheading, this is meat for a court-martial. Flogging round the fleet, I'd not be surprised.' At Tawse's continued silence he went on, 'I know about his saucy piece, his— his Sally, was it? He's
