Tenacious

'Sir.'

Kydd fell into step beside the eminent officer. 'Your captain speaks highly of you,' Essington said at length. 'A source of some satisfaction to me, that the Service has seen some benefit to my actions after Camperdown.'

'You may rely on m' duty, sir,' Kydd said stiffly.

'I'm sure of it,' Essington returned. 'But today I have come on quite a different mission'—he paused while they passed the quartermaster—'which I find delicate enough, in all conscience.'

Kydd tensed. He had been puzzled that Houghton had held back to allow a senior flag-captain to talk directly with him, and now this admission of delicacy.

Essington stopped pacing and faced Kydd. 'The essence of it all is ...'

'Sir?'

'My nephew, Bowden, has been sent to me in the character of midshipman to place upon the quarterdeck of Princess Royal. However, in short, I do not believe it in his best interest to serve in the same ship as his uncle. Neither do I feel a flagship of the Cadiz blockade a good place to learn the elements of his profession. Captain Houghton has been good enough to agree to exchange him into Tenacious where he will join the gunroom and begin his education.'

'Er, yes, sir.' Kydd could see no reason why he should be informed of such an arrangement.

'I tell you this in order that you be under no apprehension that he is to be accorded any privileges whatsoever beyond those extended to his fellow young gentlemen. Notwithstanding his gentle birth—and you may understand he is my sister's child—I desire that he be treated the same.'

'Sir, with respect, I can't see how this is a concern f'r me.'

Essington smiled. 'This is then the delicacy. It is my wish that young Bowden do learn his nauticals properly, neglecting none, to be a sure foundation for his future. I do not ask you will be the schoolmaster in this, but I would take it very kindly in you should you watch over his learning. That is, his notions of seamanship will then be of prime worth, coming as they will from one whose own such are so unquestioned.'

'Sir, you flatter me,' Kydd said carefully. But nursemaid to a midshipman? And, anyway, as an officer he would not have any direct relationship with a midshipman: that was the province of the master's mates and petty officers.

Essington frowned. 'I do not ask you will interfere, merely that as the occasion presents you do try him in the particulars, sparing neither his feelings nor time as you deem necessary.'

'Aye aye, sir,' Kydd acknowledged formally.

'Very well. Captain Houghton knows of my request and will hear any suggestion you may have, conformable to the requirements of his ship.'

Hesitating, Essington went on quietly, 'The boy is, er, eager to please, having latterly formed a pressing desire for the sea life, which will not be denied, but his ideas of life in a midshipman's berth are somewhat whimsical.'

'Sir, I—'

'I have instructed him that under no circumstances should you be approached on matters not pertaining to the sea profession,' Essington said. 'He'll find his place soon enough—or suffer. Either way, this is not a concern of yours.'

He hauled a gold hunter from his waistcoat. 'I see it is past eleven—I have to go ashore now. It only remains for me to wish you good fortune, Mr Kydd, and to thank you.'

Kydd watched the gangling midshipman he had seen in the captain's cabin emerge from the cabin spaces aft. The lad, in brand new blues and a too-large cocked hat, looked bewildered. Seeing Essington, he went to him, remembering at the last moment to remove his hat. His fingers worked nervously at his dirk as they exchanged murmured words; the boy attempted a last embrace and then Essington went down the side amid the ceremonial shriek of pipes. Kydd caught the glint of tears, the rigidity of barely held control.

'Mr Rawson!' he bellowed, up to the poop-deck, where he knew his signal midshipman had been working at the flag locker.

Rawson appeared at the poop rails in his shirtsleeves, then slid down the ladder to join him. 'Sir?'

'Mr Rawson, this is Mr Bowden. Be so good as to convey him t' the midshipmen's berth, and settle him in—an' none of y'r guardo tricks if y' please.'

Kydd turned away, feigning disinterest, but listened to the exchange that followed.

'So what do we call ye, then?' Rawson teased. 'Spit it out, younker!'

'Er, Charles, sir.'

'No, all of it,' Rawson said, with relish. 'We'll find out from the ship's books anyway.'

'Well, er, it's—it's ... Her-Her—'

'Damn it, fellow, we haven't got all day.'

'Her-Her-Hercules A-A-berdour Charles Ayscough, sir,' said Bowden, in a small voice.

'Well, now! What infernal bad luck for you!' Rawson said fruitily. 'I'd wager 'The Honourable' as well?'

The boy nodded miserably. 'Couldn't be bettered!' Rawson said, with a whoop. 'Welcome to th' Cockpitonians. Where's your sea-chest, then?'

By later that forenoon Tenacious was in tolerable seagoing order, her gear inspected and renewed or turned end for end, spars scraped back and well blacked, guns and gunlocks minutely checked. Every conceivable corner and space was stowed with sea stores: a thousand miles into a hostile Mediterranean was not the place to discover deficiencies.