The Admiral's Daughter

'And it follows that since you have advanced so far and so rapidly in the sea profession, you must be gifted far beyond the ordinary to have achieved so.'

Kydd shifted uncomfortably. 'If ye mean—'

'For myself, I accept this without rancour, that you are so much my superior in the nautical arts. You have the technical excellence, the daring and—if I may make bold to remark it—the ambition that places you at such an eminence, all of which sets my own small competences to the blush.'

'Nicholas, you—'

'Therefore the corollary is inescapable, and it is that if I were to venture an opinion in such matters then it will have sprung from so shallow a soil that it may not stand against one cultured to so full a bloom. It would be an impertinence to attach weight or significance to it and from this we must accept therefore that it were better not uttered—I shall not be offering a view on how you will conduct your ship, nor praise and still less blame. Your decisions shall be yours to make, and I, like every one of Teazer's company, will happily abide by them.'

So there would be no private councils-of-war, for there was no shifting Renzi's resolve, logically arrived at. But then it dawned on Kydd. Close friends as they were, nothing could be more calculated to drive a wedge between them than the holding of opposite opinions before an action, only one of which would be proved correct to the discomfiture of the other—whoever that might be.

Renzi was putting their friendship before self, Kydd recognised. For the future, the decisions would be his own but unconditional warmth of the companionship would always be there at the trifling cost of some defining limits. 'Why, that's handsomely said, Nicholas,' he replied softly. He paused, then began again in a different tone: 'We have t' put down the rascal, that's clear, but where t' find him? That's the rub.'

Renzi waited.

'An' I have notion where we might . . .'

'May I know your reasoning?' Renzi said carefully. Evidently discussion was possible but advice and opinions were not.

'I feel it in m' bones. Our Bloody Jacques is not going home. He's lost not a single spar in th' meeting of us—why should he give it away while he c'n still cruise?' Unspoken was the feeling that, be damned to it, he was going to have a reckoning for his own self-respect.

'So where . . . ?'

'Just as soon as we're able, we clap on sail to th' suth'ard—I mean t' make Wolf Rock b' sunset.'

'Wolf Rock?' said Renzi, in surprise. The dangerous single outcrop well out into the entrance to the Channel was feared by all seafarers.

'Aye.'

'And, er, why?' Renzi prompted.

'Pray excuse, Nicholas, there's a mort t' be done afore we sail.'

There was now just enough time to punish Andrews for breaking ship and hazarding his shipmates, then deal with Standish.

With Penzance under their lee they left Mount's Bay for the south. Kydd had dealt kindly with Andrews, even as the letter of the law judged him guilty of desertion and, what was worse, that his captain had been presented with a situation not of his intending or control. The crestfallen lad was given the thirty-fourth Article of War to get by heart before claiming his supper.

Standish, however, was a harder matter. Clearly quite sure of his opinion, he had become cold and reserved in his dealings and would need careful handling if this were not to turn into something more charged.

Within the hour they had left the shelter of the bay and headed out into the Channel, first to the south and, the winds proving favourable, further towards the open Atlantic. The seas moderated, and as the afternoon continued the sun made an appearance, setting all in their path a-glitter in a last display before dusk.

'Tide'll be an hour earlier'n Falmouth hereabouts, sir,' Dowse said laconically.

'Aye.'

'It's high-water springs, sir,' he added, with more feeling.

'That'll be so, I believe.'

Kydd didn't want any discussion about his dash for Wolf Rock, for while his reasons could be explained logically—the rock's position as a fine place of lookout squarely athwart both the east-west and north-south shipping channels—his conviction was based on intuition only. In some way he knew that the privateer captain would head for friendly waters for the night but then turn about and, believing Teazer to be continuing her patrol along the south coast, round the tip of Cornwall to resume his depredations, this time on the north coast. But first he would have to pass within sight of Wolf Rock— and there Teazer would be waiting.

'Sir,' Dowse went on heavily, 'Wolf Rock covers at high-water spring tides.'

Kydd had seen the ugly rock several times from seaward but what Dowse was saying meant that his plan to lie off with it in sight as a means of keeping his position during the dark hours— and by knowing where it was, guard against coming upon it un-awares—was now questionable.

As if mocking him, a pair of seagulls keened overhead while Dowse waited with dour patience. Dusk drew in and somewhere out there just under the surface was a deadly crag—it could be anywhere beneath the innocent waters ahead. Attempts in the past had been made to erect some kind of warning mark but the sea had always swept it away.

They could not continue into such danger. 'Ah, it seems—' Kydd stopped. Away on the weather bow there was a discontinuity in the wan light on the sea, a black object that had appeared, vanished, then reappeared in the same place, where it remained. He stared at it, eyes watering.

Standish made a play of raising his telescope and lowering it again. 'Naught but a seal,' he said, with studied