Invasion

stabbing unerringly for the man's face. It gouged into bone and, with a shriek, his attacker dropped his weapon, staggering back. The other shied away, unsure of what had happened. 'Go! Go for your life!' Kydd bawled at Fulton.

They headed instinctively for the water. Running feet and hoarse shouts followed them as they plunged through the narrow, stinking passages and across clattering footbridges at the edge of the river. Suddenly the vista opened up but Kydd had eyes only for one thing—the stone steps of wherry stairs. A waterman, dozing in the stern-sheets of his boat, woke at their shouts and they shoved off quickly, leaving their frustrated pursuers behind.

CHAPTER 11

FULTON HUNG HIS HEAD in dejection. 'It's over,' he said, in a low voice. 'I'll never see Nautilus swim in my lifetime.'

Kydd moved his chair closer. 'How can you say that, Toot? The committee haven't given it enough thought, is all.'

'So who will bring 'em to their senses? Gresham isn't alone, damn his soul, for it's in the nature of the mariner to distrust new things. No, I'm one man against a whole tribe of Noahs. Pity me, Tom.'

Kydd grimaced at the street noises outside Fulton's small rooms, loud and unceasing. They were a sad distraction for any thinking man. Fulton deserved better but obviously could not afford it. Then a thought came: could he himself fund the development? Fulton was proud and independent, and would allow it only under contract as a form of investment, shares in his company, perhaps. But as a venture the yield would be considerable, even as much as— What was he thinking? To profit by the murder of sailors, however logically necessary? His mind shied away in horror.

However, he now knew that he believed in Fulton's ability to bring to reality a war-changing weapon of historic significance. And if this were so, then standing outside the situation was not an option. If Britain were to possess it, and if he had any influence or power to bring it about, his duty was clear.

'Toot, we're going t' see this through. The first thing we'll do is find what made 'em cautious. I'm to see Captain Popham, I believe.'

'Wait!' Fulton stood up and went to the window. 'I—I don't think it'll fadge.'

'Pray why not?'

'My purse is now uncommon light—at low water, as you sailors will say. If I'm to—'

'Toot, you'll honour me by accepting a small . . . accommodation as will see you secure for now.'

'You'll have my note of hand directly, Mr. Kydd,' Fulton said woodenly, and looked away.

Kydd was ushered into a small, tastefully ornamented drawing room. 'Why, Mr. Kydd, a very good morning to you,' Popham said pleasantly. 'Do be seated.'

'Thank you, sir.' After the usual pleasantries had been exchanged, Kydd came straight to the point. 'Er, you'd oblige me much by gratifying my curiosity in respect of Mr. Fulton—or should I say Mr. Francis?'

'Oh? A very fascinating cove indeed. Challenging ideas. Not your common projector, if that's what you mean.'

'Would it be impertinent of me to ask what the committee found objectionable in his plans?'

Popham hesitated, then looked at Kydd quizzically. 'Do I take it you have an interest of sorts in the fellow?'

'As a serving officer it would be quite improper of me to take advantage of—'

'Quite so.'

If Popham was the one to have objected on moral or other grounds Kydd knew he was sailing close to the wind, but the man continued, 'Yet one might take a professional interest, don't you think?'

Did this mean . . . ?

Kydd pressed his case. 'It appears t' me, sir, that if there is anything of substance in the design then we're duty-bound to discover its limits.'

'It will set our notions of sea warfare on its head, should he be successful.'

'Yes, sir, but if this is going to be the future, do we have the right to turn our backs on it without we know of it at the first hand?' There was no going back now.

'Ah, do I see an enterprising and forward-looking officer not affrighted by the original, the radical? Then we are quite of a mind, sir.'

Relieved, Kydd went on, 'Then may I know who objected to the submarine?'

Popham gave a lopsided grin. 'There were several who did, but one who quite swayed the meeting and discouraged all further discussion.'

'And he was?'

'Myself. I had to, of course.'

'I—I don't understand you, sir.'

'Reflect, if you will. Mr. Pitt is asking for a steer in the matter of saving the country from the invasion fleet of Mr. Bonaparte. That, at this time, is his first duty.' He paused, then said, 'Do you know much of the design of this submarine boat?'

'Not a great deal,' Kydd admitted stiffly.

'In warfare the devil's always in the detail,' Popham said.

'The general consensus among us was that the design may be technically feasible, if not brilliant. No, Mr. Kydd, the problem does not in fact lie with our friend's plan, which might well end in a formidable and deadly craft. It is, in short, workable. But the target is the flotilla in Boulogne. And, as you should know, the sea depths to be found there are scant and with much tide scour. Yet the design calls for the submersible to pass under the victim. I would suggest that even if this were possible, in such cramped conditions it would be to the grievous hazard of the craft, and I cannot find it in me to condemn its crew to such a horrible end.'