The Admiral's Daughter

boredom, 'as we might expect this time of the year. I remember—'

'That will do,' Kydd said with relish. 'The beast sits atop th' rock. Clear away th' best bower an' stream anchor an' we moor for the night.'

'Why, sir, I hardly think—' Dowse seemed lost for words.

'Mr Purchet, be sure an' buoy th' cables, we may have t' slip without a deal of warning.'

'Anchor, sir? Y' knows that Wolf Rock is steep to. Seabed drops away t'—what? Twenty, thirty fathom?' the boatswain said uneasily.

'He's right, sir,' Standish interjected. 'If we were—'

'Silence!' Kydd roared. 'Hold y' tongues, all o' you! T' question me on m' own quarterdeck—I'm not standin' f'r it!' He waited until he felt his fury subside, then went on frostily, 'Th' bower cable's seven hundred 'n' fifty feet out to its bitter end, so with th' usual allowance f'r three times the depth o' water we c'n moor an' with cable t' spare.' It would be damnably little, but the greater peril lay in blundering about a dangerous shore in the blackness of night.

'By mooring f'r the night we'll be in position ready in th' morning, an' no danger of bein' cast up on the rock.' He glared round defiantly and left the deck for Standish to carry out his order.

'An hour before dawn, sir, and, er, nothing in sight.'

Kydd struggled to wakefulness at Tysoe's gentle rousing. He had spent a restless night even though at this distance offshore a spacious and soothing ocean swell had predominated over inshore fretfulness. He dressed hastily and made his way to the dimness of the quarterdeck, where Prosser was on watch. 'Brisk mornin',' Kydd said, slapping his sides in the cold early-morning breeze.

'Sir,' Prosser said, without emotion, standing with his arms folded next to the empty helm.

'Do ye think we'll be lucky t' day?'

'Sir.'

The watch on deck were forward, rehanking falls and squaring away in the grey morning light. Kydd caught the flash of glances thrown in his direction—he needed no one to tell him the topic of their conversation.

The light strengthened: it was uncanny to be anchored in the middle of the sea, for while land was in sight from the masthead, in accordance with Kydd's plan to be both invisible and all-seeing, there was nothing at all from deck level except an unbroken expanse of water and the disfiguring sea-washed black of Wolf Rock away on their beam.

The men were piped to breakfast. An hour later, with nothing on the horizon and Teazer lying to single anchor, hands were turned to for exercise. Kydd paced along the deck.

Time passed, and apart from a small merchantman and a bevy of morning fishermen, the coast remained clear. Standish wore a look of pained toleration as he went about the deck, and Renzi kept out of the way below.

'Sail hoooo! In wi' the land—a big 'un!' There was no mistaking the animation in the mainmast lookout's voice. Kydd threw his hat to the deck and scrambled up the main-shrouds.

'Where away?' The lookout pointed to the distant dark band of coast, and there indeed was a vessel of size on the bearing—the three pale blobs had to be sail on three masts. Kydd fumbled for his glass. A lugger sprang into view, and with that oddly raked mizzen there could be little doubt.

'Deck hooo!' he yelled in exultation. 'Enemy in sight! Buoy an' slip this instant, d' ye hear?' He swung out and descended hastily, thinking of what he might say to Standish but nothing clever came to mind, and he contented himself with the brisk orders that sent the men to their stations for rapid transition from quiescence to flying chase.

He had been right! His intuition was sound and the privateer had returned to the place Kydd had reasoned he would. At anchor far to seaward and without sails abroad, they were invisible to the unsuspecting Frenchman who had passed Gwennap Head and was therefore now committed to the passage round to the north. He was due an unpleasant surprise.

The buoy with the anchor cable secured to it splashed away to set them free and sail dropped from the yards. As if in sudden eagerness Teazer caught the wind and leant towards their quarry, who must now be in complete astonishment at the man-o'-war that had appeared from nowhere, like a magic spell, and was now hot on his heels.

It would be a tight chase: again, they were well to windward of their prey in a south-westerly and again the privateer could not contemplate putting about to return, for that would require tacking round and right into the path of his pursuer. But this time Teazer was perfectly positioned and conditions could not have been bettered: the winds were strong and in her best quarter for sailing while the privateer was being forced against the coast as it trended to the north-west to Land's End, which must first be rounded before they could bear away along the north coast.

In less than an hour the two ships would reach a point of convergence somewhere close to the Longships lighthouse, which stood atop a group of wicked rocks extending out from this final promontory.

How to open the action? There was little need for lengthy planning, however: the lugger would lie under their guns to leeward in a very short time and his gun-captains would know what to do then. Kydd sent for his sword, remembering to speak encouraging words to those for whom this would be a first taste of powder, and in good time HMS Teazer went to quarters.

The tumbling mass of grey rock that was the very tip of England drew closer—so did the lugger, sailing perilously in with the cliffs and rolling uncomfortably from the seas on her beam. Every detail became clear: the faded black sides, soaring pale lug-sails with odd, off-square topsails straining above and no colours of any sort flying.

A point of red at her bow had Kydd reaching for his telescope— under its bold bowsprit was a figurehead, a crimson fighting cock with spurs extended in ferocious challenge.

'I own I stand rebuked for want of faith, sir,' Standish said quietly. He stood in front of Kydd and bowed awkwardly. 'That is Bloody Jacques for a surety—I heard a lot of him in Fowey.'

'Ah, I had th' feeling,' Kydd said lightly. 'We open fire t' st'b'd,' he went on, and resumed his hungry stare at the