Invasion

A rising tide of rage threatened his reason. This was not how it

should be! Teazer had a destiny in the coming final struggle . . .

'Two foot in the well.' The carpenter had broken in on his thoughts. 'Could be much worse'n that,' he said, without conviction but if the sloop was shattered they would have been swimming for it by now.

'They're comin', sir!' The ship was directly opposite the river entrance and, through the outer line of moored ships, beetling shapes of oared gunboats now made towards them.

'The tide, Mr. Dowse?' The holding was good, and if they were granted time to stream a kedge they could conceivably haul off, if only . . .

'It'll be falling in a half-hour, Mr. Kydd.' It meant they were in slack water at the height of the tide and then a settling on the wreck below. And the gunboats were clear of the line of ships and on their way. Bitter thoughts came, but Kydd knew that very soon he had a decision to make—to fight hopelessly or haul down his flag?

Then, as if by a miracle, Teazer stirred, a protracted groaning from deep within her bowels and a jerking realignment that saw her shifting by inches to be more parallel to the shore. Could this be . . . ?

'We're being shoved off—an' it's b' courtesy o' France itself,' Dowse said gleefully, and pointed to the port entrance.

It took Kydd a moment or two to grasp it, but then he laughed. 'Why, so we are. I should have smoked it! Hands t' set sail, if y' please.'

'Sir, if you'd be so good to explain,' Hallum said plaintively.

'Of course, Mr. Hallum. You see yonder? That's Boulogne, and the river Liane. We're directly opposite so the current from the river is pressing us to seaward. We cannot resist, it will have its way, and soon we will be carried off our place of resting and then we're homeward bound.'

CHAPTER 13

TO THE INTENSE SATISFACTION of her captain, and the relief of her crew, HMS Teazer sailed from Sheerness dockyard two weeks later, the shipwrights there proving more than a match for the damage sustained. The town was much as Kydd remembered from the time of the Great Mutiny seven years before: bleak, windswept and far from any civilisation worth the name. Even hardened seamen were weary of the squalor of Blue Town and the stink of the marshes.

The sloop rounded the promontory for the Nore, then sailed south for North Foreland and the Downs. Kydd's blood was up: production of the ordnance must be close to completion and now Teazer was ready to play her part. In a fever of anxiety he made his number with the flagship and lost no time in reporting aboard.

Keith seemed preoccupied but acknowledged Teazer's accession to his forces—and disclosed that production of the munitions was at such an advanced stage that staff planning had begun for the operation. Kydd should hold himself in readiness for a council-of-war, at which he might expect a role.

It was on. His charge as nursemaid to Fulton was at an end and now he would rejoin the war, a very different one from that of the past. Torpedoes, submarines, stealth, destruction—if this was the future, he was duty-bound to prepare himself to be a part of it.

The operation was to be led by Popham in view of his interest in the new weapons and his role in developing the catamarans. He had gone to the Admiralty to discuss strategy.

Kydd felt left in suspense, but then was called to a conference with Keith. 'Gentlemen,' the admiral said flatly, to his officers around the table, 'I have been apprised that the ordnance is ready, sufficient to make an initial descent on the flotilla. I have no doubt you realise that time is not on our side. The season is far advanced, and the weather cannot always be relied on to be in our favour.' There was a murmur of agreement. 'And, besides, it may well be in Bonaparte's mind to launch his invasion before the weather closes in and prevents it. Any means to deter this until the spring may be accounted worth the attempting.'

Kydd was one of three commanders at the conference; the others, eight post-captains, were far his senior, only two of whom, Popham and Savery, he recognised.

Keith continued, 'Like it or no, we must make our move at the next favourable time—a strong spring tide on the flood in the early darkness and no moon, the next of which being in eight days' time.'

This left precious little time for preparation.

'To the operation itself. I have to inform you all that, as a consequence of the gravity of the situation, the first lord of the Admiralty, Lord Melville himself, is to be present at the engagement and I myself will take personal command in Monarch.'

Popham's head jerked up. 'Sir? I have to say—'

'I shall be in command and that's an end to it, sir.' Clearly Keith was under pressure at the highest level. 'Now, this action has clear and definite aims: the reduction of Bonaparte's invasion flotilla by any and all means. After an eventful reconnaissance by Teazer I have come to the conclusion that a direct assault against the port is not to be considered.'

There were murmurs of heartfelt agreement. Nelson's bloody failure at the same task had been all too recent.

'But a further investigation by Locust has shown that the ships moored across the entrance are not a defensive squadron. They are the overplus vessels of the flotilla unable to find room within the port.'

The formidable barrier was only troop-carrying transports with makeshift armament. This was a different matter entirely.

'One hundred and fifty sail—and these shall be the target of the first onslaught from our new weapons, gentlemen.'

A babble of interjection arose, put down firmly by the unsmiling Keith. 'I go further. This entire action is to be considered a proving of the torpedoes and coffers. No engagement is contemplated of the regular kind.'

Astonishment and jealousy in turn showed on the faces of those assembled as it became clear that any distinction won would be with torpedoes, other weapons merely defensive—their keepers.