Sitting with the others scratching away at last letters, Kydd sucked his quill: there would be no mail sent or received as they sailed deeper into the ancient sea. He bent again over his letter to his family but was noisily interrupted by a midshipman hurtling into the wardroom. 'All officers!' he shrilled. 'On deck instanter—it's the admiral!'
The admiral's barge had been seen putting off from
An appalled watch officer sent messengers scurrying while he hastily pulled together a side party. Houghton shot up from below, roaring for the first lieutenant who, when he finally appeared, showed every evidence of hasty dressing.
Kydd took his place with the receiving party of officers on the quarterdeck, nervously tugging his hat and smoothing his waistcoat. No one was in fit state to greet an admiral; it was the usual custom to alert the ship well in advance, but this was the famed Nelson, who was known to be different from the rest.
The bowman of the barge hooked on with a quite unnecessary flourish. High at the deck edge the boatswain waited with his silver call poised, his mates and sideboys in a line inward to the group of officers.
At the instant the top of a cocked hat appeared, the calls pealed out together and Rear Admiral of the Blue Sir Horatio Nelson came aboard, his flag breaking at the mizzen. Houghton came forward and removed his hat. 'Sir, welcome aboard HMS
At the junior end of the receiving line Kydd dared a glance at the man who even now was known throughout the navy and increasingly by the general public, one whose reputation must shortly be tested in this daring foray.
Not as tall as Kydd's, Nelson's figure was sparse and drawn, in no sense that of a hero, and seemingly dwarfed by the weight of his decorations and gold lace. Kydd tried not to look at the empty sleeve pinned across his chest and the spindly legs, and tensed as the admiral approached.
'And Lieutenant Kydd, sir, fifth and junior.' Houghton's tone betrayed that he, too, was affected by the presence.
'Do you come from a seagoing family?'
'No, sir,' Kydd answered. 'I come fr'm Guildford, in th' country.' He became uncomfortably aware of prematurely white hair and the odd, milky-blue right eye.
'Then what made you follow the sea?'
'I—I was pressed, sir.'
There was no avoiding the admission, but to his relief a thin smile appeared. 'And now you are a king's officer, come aft the hardest way. To your great credit, sir—that's so, Captain?'
'It is, sir,' Houghton stuttered.
Kydd tried to think of a suitable reply, but Nelson had passed on.
Before they entered the cabin spaces Houghton turned to the officers. 'Sir Horatio wishes to address you all. Shall we say my cabin in ten minutes?'
In the great cabin of
'Now, to strategy. Our course will be to Toulon. We cruise off and on until we discover for a certainty what the French are doing. If they make a move to the west we fall back. I'm prepared to let Gibraltar be taken to make certain that we can hold them at Cadiz and there with the whole fleet we shall try for a conclusion.' There was a shocked silence, which he broke: 'We are talking now of the very security of our islands—they will not pass.'
He touched the chart to the east. 'If, on the other hand, General Buonaparte is considering an adventure to Constantinople he will find he is trapped. The waters are shoal and there is but the one entrance, the Dardanelles. There he will find us waiting, and he will see that it will bring the Turks into close alliance. And if they are further east, to the Levant perhaps, the Red Sea, we shall fall on their lines of supply.'
He straightened painfully, his face grim and set. 'But all is vaporous posturing until we have met their fleet and disposed of it. While it exists, the Mediterranean is a French lake. All our striving must be to entice it to sea and bring it to battle. That, gentlemen, is our entire strategy. Questions?'
The heightened feeling was almost palpable. Bryant asked boldly, 'What will be our force, sir?'
'
'Signals, sir. We haven't yet the new instructions,' Kydd found himself saying. The others frowned, but he was concerned that he did not yet have a signal book ready for any major fleet action in prospect.
'Neither will you,' Nelson said briefly. 'You are in a detached squadron of Sir John's fleet off Cadiz. His signals therefore will still apply.' He then turned to Kydd and smiled grimly. 'And if any ship of the enemy lie ahead, why, our duty is plain and no signal required.'
There was a stirring among the officers. These were not the highly planned, intricate tactics of a fleet in line- of-battle: service under this admiral promised to be a time each would remember.
After the men had finished their grog and noon meal the officers sat down to dinner. The wardroom was alive with only one topic. 'A proud man, but conceited,' Bampton said firmly. 'Vanity does not a leader make, in my opinion.'
'Oh, so you have personal knowledge of our famed commander?' There was an edge to Adams's voice.
'Not directly. But I have heard—'
'Let the man's actions speak for 'emselves, I say!' boomed Bryant.