Invasion

'Er, no, sir. Timber convoys from the Baltic, mostly.'

Kydd nodded pleasantly, privately reflecting that if this was the extent of his 'interesting service' then his time in Teazer was no doubt set to prove an eye-opening experience.

Several steaming dishes arrived. 'Do tell, Mr. Hallum—from what part of the kingdom do you hail?' Renzi asked politely.

By the first remove it was discovered that Hallum's family was noted in Suffolk for its sea connections and that he himself had made several trading voyages to Norway as a youngster. Over the port Kydd had a measure of his lieutenant: solidly reliable but with little ambition and less imagination. 'Then let's raise a glass to Teazer an' her company,' he said warmly. 'I've a fancy we're in for exciting times. The admiral says as how he wants to put us to the test right quickly.'

CHAPTER 2

KYDD SIGHED DEEPLY as he took in the understated splendour of his great cabin—its dark polished bulkhead across at the forward end and the brightness of whitened sides and deck-head, which seemed to increase the apparent area to a gratifying size. With a black-and-white chequered floor covering and a deeply polished table in the centre, it was almost intimidating, and Tysoe moved about with a lordly air in his silent ministrations.

On deck the whole sweep of the interior of the bulwarks was now a rousing scarlet with black and gold finishings about the scrollwork. The yards were a deep black against the varnished masts and Kydd had willingly parted with the necessary funds to ensure that the band of yellow between the gunports was shown at its best by a liberal mixing of white pigment in the paint. The carronade tompions had been picked out in crimson and green, and from the sweet intricacies of the miniature stern gallery aft to the dainty white figurehead forward, with flecks of blue and gold, Teazer had never looked so bewitching.

Kydd was keen to see his ship, now in all respects ready for action, back where she belonged—at sea. In the weeks since he had been restored to his post Carthew had not reappeared and therefore preparations for a court- martial could not begin. Prosser had been allowed to resign his commission and leave, in return for making full deposition of his evidence.

It was, however, not in the interests of the service to keep a fine ship at idleness and Teazer's orders duly came. They were short and to the point: a cruise eastwards from Alderney along the north coast of the Contentin peninsula, past the port of Cherbourg and as far as its natural conclusion at Pointe de Barfleur.

All the east-west coastal traffic from northern France must proceed that way and a Royal Navy presence athwart its passage would effectively bring it to a halt. Kydd would be sharing the task with lesser fry—a gun-brig and a cutter.

It was gratifying to have the master, Dowse, and their local pilot, Queripel, back in earnest conclave as they deliberated over their mission. Saumarez insisted that all non-native naval vessels in his command carry a permanent local pilot, as well as the usual ship's master. Given the treacherous nature of the waters of the area, Kydd had quickly seen the wisdom in this requirement.

'Mr. Queripel,' he said, 'y'r opinion of this coast, sir.'

'Not easy, sir, not a-tall,' the man replied carefully. 'Th' charts, they doesn't tell the half of it.'

'How so?'

'All along this seaboard,' he said, indicating the whole north-facing coast, 'steep-to an' bold mostly, but deceitful, sir, very deceitful. See here, Cap Levi. Coast trends away t' the nor'-east an' you'd think to weather the cape a cable or two clear, but that would be to y'r error, sir. Straight to th' north, a good two mile out—a wicked long rocky shoal below the waves a-waiting for ye.'

Queripel continued, 'An' that's not all. Should the tidal stream meet wi' a contrary wind, why, then ye gets the Raz du Cap Levi, a dangerous race as can set any good ship t' hazard.'

'Aye, y' tides,' Kydd murmured.

'Tides? Why, y' same Cap Levi at spring tides sees a east-going stream o' eight hours but a west-going f'r four hours only at a fierce rate o' knots. An' with y' Saint-Pierre shell bank roilin' an' shiftin' down where no man's eye c'n see, an' your Basse de Happetout, why it'll—'

'Thank 'ee, Mr. Queripel,' Kydd said. 'It's my intention to stay as close with the land as will make it a sore puzzle f'r the Frenchies to think to pass us by,' he added firmly. The whole coastline, though, seemed to be wilfully arranged as a snare and trap for English sailors. 'Your best charts, Mr. Dowse—an' don't spare the expense in their getting.' The illicit French productions to which he was referring could be purchased ashore—at a price.

The next morning when Teazer weighed for the north an air of expectancy was abroad. It was a hard life in a small ship on such a coast but there would be much satisfaction in action against the enemy—and the chance of prizes.

Laying Guernsey abeam, Teazer shaped course to clear the Casquets to starboard where the helm went over and they eased to the south-westerly for the long coastwise patrol to the east. The forbidding rocks, with their characteristic three-part lighthouse, were left astern, and the bare green of Alderney, the most northerly of the Channel Islands, came into view.

With a fair wind on her quarter Teazer showed her breeding. One of the myriad uninhabited islands was coming up, distinctive with its generous frosting of bird droppings. Kydd drew out his watch and calculated their progress. A cast of the log confirmed it—eleven knots and a half.

Past Alderney there was clear water for the eight miles to the north-west tip of France but almost immediately Kydd felt Teazer dip and sway as the notorious Alderney Race surging from the south took her full on the beam, the waves tumbling on themselves in their hurry to emerge into the Channel proper.

The dark mass of land ahead was France. Kydd's duty was clear: to take, burn, sink or destroy by any means the forces that so threatened England; no consideration of prizes or personal ambition must stand in the way. 'Keep your eyes open, there!' he roared up at the foretop lookout. Cap de la Hague was approaching fast in the fair wind but once round the larger mass of the peninsula, the wind under the land would drop and the ship would take longer to respond to anything they came up with.

'Th' Grunes, sir,' Queripel warned, as they neared the rocky outliers.

'To clear 'em?' Kydd grunted. It would not do to stay safely distant out to sea while the French crept along furtively close inshore.

'I'd not be happy under a mile, Mr. Kydd,' Queripel answered.