The Admiral's Daughter

straightened for the run past the Hoe. 'I believe, sir, you now have an address in Stonehouse.'

'I have,' Kydd said, with satisfaction. 'Durnford Street. There— can y' see the darker roof o' the third house along? A view o' the Hamoaze on one side an' Plymouth Hoe th' other.' It was an unreal thought that there he had a home of his own making.

'Sir!' The quartermaster's voice was sharp with alarm as he pointed at the bulk of a large merchantman ahead, emerging from the rain squalls and about to cross their bows on its way to the Mill Bay docks. It was unfortunate: the lookouts had probably assumed that his attention was on the task in hand and had refrained from pointing out the obvious.

Annoyed with himself, he snapped the orders that took the way off the sloop to pass astern of the ponderous vessel. 'It seems we're in some need of a sea breeze t' clear our heads. As soon as we're t' seaward o' Jennycliff, let's see th' hands lose some sweat. Both watches t' exercise then, Mr Standish.'

'Aye aye, sir,' he acknowledged. 'Er, and, sir—if you'd excuse the impertinence—I did learn as well that our captain's clerk is now, er, of the same address?'

'Aye, he is,' Kydd said firmly.

'Sir.'

'Then am I t' understand that he's easy in his duties—as who's to say backward in diligence—when assistin' you?'

'Why, no, sir,' Standish answered hastily. 'He is very amiable and obliging.'

'Mr Renzi is a learned gentleman o' shinin' qualities as is ac-ceptin' th' convenience of this vessel by th' admiral's express permission, and who finds the value of an, um, pied-a-terre in this place an obligin' thing.

'If your philosophicals are lofty enough you'll have th' chance t' quiz him as y' please, for I'll be invitin' you an' Mr Renzi both t' dinner soon.'

The afternoon brought an improvement in the weather, and with the wind backing to a pleasant westerly, Kydd decided to patrol the eastward half of his area.

There was no need for haste, as who was to say where any trouble might lie? The admiral's office had received no recent reports of predation and Kydd wondered if he would ever again get the chance to face Bloody Jacques at bay.

Meanwhile his contentment continued to build, with warm thoughts of his progress in society mingling with enjoyment of the tumbling green Devonshire coastline and the clean, sparkling summer seas ahead.

Renzi had received the news of Kydd's successful first foray into real society politely and had been cautiously approving when he had heard in some detail of his encounter with an admiral's daughter. Kydd had no idea how he had done, but the very fact that she had stayed to talk implied that his presence was not altogether uncongenial. She was certainly of a quality far above his, yet she had singled him out—this was surely proof of his acceptability in gentle company. He hugged the conclusion gleefully to himself and turned on his heel to pace the quarterdeck.

The line of coast was beginning to take on meaning and char-acter—Kydd recognised the mouth of the Erme River: it had been there, so long ago, that he had been one of the party that had crept ashore to discover the truth of the great mutiny, learning of the worst in the pretty village of Ivybridge below the moor.

As the coast trended south past the Bolt Tail and Head it peaked with Start Point. One of the major seamarks for the winter-beset battleships of the Channel Fleet fleeing a ferocious gale, it promised calm and rest at Tor Bay, beyond.

Teazer's patrol limit was at the other end of the long sweep of Lyme Bay at Portland and nearby Weymouth. There were no seaports of consequence in the bay beyond Exmouth and he determined to stretch out for Portland.

'Mr Standish, tomorrow is Sunday an' we shall have Divisions. If you'd be s' kind?' It was a little unfair; the ship was still being squared away after three weeks in dockyard hands, but what better way to pull Teazer into shape than to have a captain's inspection and bracing divine service? Anyway, it would give him a good idea of the temper of his men. It was the duty of the first lieutenant to prepare the ship and Standish would be held to account for any short-comings; this was the custom of the service and he would be as much on display as the ship.

At four bells Kydd stepped out of his great cabin to the piercing squeal from the boatswain's call. In full dress uniform he acknowledged the polite report from Standish that His Majesty's Ship Teazer was now at readiness for his inspection.

He went to the main-hatchway and stood aside for the boatswain to precede him on deck with a single warning peal, the 'still.' Then Kydd emerged gravely on to the upper deck. With fitting gravity he began in a measured pace to process down the larboard side of the deck, every man still and watching.

Lines from aloft appeared properly belayed and, additionally, the ends were each laid flat in a careful concentric spiral, a Flemish coil. He moved past the bitts to the shot garlands alongside each squat carronade. The gunner watched Kydd's progress steadily: Kydd knew it would be astonishing indeed if the balls were not wonderfully chipped and blacked and the carronades gleaming on their slides but appearances must be preserved and he went carefully through the motions.

The foredeck was in the same pristine state as aft; the lines were not pointed as they were on the holy ground of the quarterdeck where the final four inches had been artistically tapered, but in other ways there was pleasing attention to detail. Here he noted that every rope's end was neatly whipped, in the complex but secure and elegant West Country style, while the canvas grippings of the foreshrouds had been painted instead of tarred.

'A strong showing, Mr Standish,' Kydd allowed. Standish tried to hide his smile of satisfaction.

But professional pride was at stake here; Kydd looked about covertly but there was nothing to which he could take exception. He would have to try harder. Noting the angle of the breeze across the deck he crossed to a carronade neatly at rest on its slide. At the cost of his dignity Kydd squatted and felt under its training bed forward before the waterway and found what he was looking for: wisps of oakum and twine trimmings, wafted there during the work that morning. He straightened and looked accusingly at Standish. 'Ah, sir, I'll be speaking to the captain of the fo'c'sle,' the lieutenant said, with a touch of defiance.

Kydd growled, 'But there's a matter o' higher importance that concerns me.' He held Standish's eyes, provoking in the other man a start of alarm. Kydd went on, 'It is, sir, th' foretop lookout failin' in his duty!'

They snapped their gaze aloft to catch the interested lookout peering down at events on deck, then hurriedly shifting his attention back out to sea. Kydd had known the man's curiosity would probably get the better of him and