The Admiral's Daughter

'Where?'

'Stackhouse Cove. Are ye forgettin' Acton Castle only a couple o' hundred yards above? An' at dead low springs there's a strip o' sand will take a boat easy enough.'

Kydd had no idea of the location or its significance but he would find out more later. 'Er, do y' know aught o' the signals they'll use?' he threw into the darkness, an odd sensation.

'Two lights together in Bessy's window 'n' the coast is clear o' the Revenue. Leadin' lights are two sets o' spout lanterns in th' field below the castle. Trouble, pistol flashes. Anythin' else?'

'What vessels can we expect t' see?'

'Ah, well, I can't help ye with that.'

'Who is it organising, do you think?' Standish demanded loudly.

After a slight pause the man replied, 'An' that neither.'

It was quickly settled. As the smugglers expected the Revenue at Praa Sands, that was where they would be, while Teazer would lurk offshore at Stackhouse Cove.

Over a convivial draught the Collector pulled out a chart. 'The whole stretch o' coast here—Mount's Bay east from Perranuthnoe to the Lizard—is nothing less'n a nest o' thieving scapegallows. And the worst of 'em you'll find past Cudden Point here, just on from Stackhouse Cove.

'Ever hear on the Carters? 'King of Prussia,' John calls himself, and he an' his brother Harry have led us a merry dance this last twenty years. Had a bloody tumble with Druid frigate once, running in a freight at Cawsand even, and leaving men dead.'

'What's this was mentioned about y'r castle?' Kydd came in.

'Acton Castle? That's John Stackhouse then. The slivey knave knows the Carters well, but claims he's only a- botanising seaweed. I'd like to know as how your seaweed is such a rare business he can set up a castle on the proceeds. It would be a fine thing t' catch him out, Mr Kydd,' he added grimly.

'We'll be ready. Are y' sure ye'll want to stay at Praa Sands?' Kydd asked.

'I don't altogether trust our man—chances are he's told us it's only a show at Praa while we're off to Stackhouse Cove, and the truth of it is, Praa Sands is where it'll be landed. So, with most of us and the King's ship safely away out of it, they'll be rolling their tubs ashore there. Thank ye, but we'll stay—and know ye'll be doing y' duty at Stackhouse Cove if it's to be the other way.'

There was a warm stillness to the night. They were trying to close with the land in murky darkness. A 'smuggler's moon,' a filmy crescent of light, was just enough to make out shapes and movement without betraying detail. That same stillness was robbing the ship of steerage way just when it was most needed.

'Sir, I have t' warn ye—the Greeb.'

'Aye, thank you, Mr Dowse.' Kydd needed no reminding about the evil scatter of crumbling granite that was Basore Point or the particular menace of the Greeb, a dark lacing of rocks reaching straight out to sea for nearly a quarter of a mile.

'Away boats.' If the smuggling gang could try conclusions with a frigate then Kydd was taking no chances. As many as he could spare would go with Standish and lie concealed in undergrowth behind the long, lizard-like Cudden Point overlooking Stackhouse Cove. Others, under Prosser, would take up position on the near side at Trevean.

Teazer left them to it, ghosted back offshore and hove to; it would be impossible to see an approaching vessel until it was upon them—but at the same time they themselves would not be seen. Kydd's plan was to wait until the landing was in progress, signalled by the shore party, and catch them in the act from seaward.

An hour passed in absolute quiet, the slap and chuckle of water along their side and the creaking of timbers in the slight swell the only sounds. Then another: it was difficult to keep men mute for so long but Kydd had warned the petty officers of his requirement for silence.

A shape materialised next to him. 'A roborant against the night air, dear fellow,' Renzi whispered, proffering hot negus.

Kydd accepted gratefully but out of consideration to others slipped below to his cabin to finish it. 'It sticks in m' throat to see Teazer used so,' he growled. 'As fine a man-o'-war as swam, set against a gang of shabbaroons—it's not natural.'

'You were lecturing me sternly only this morning about the country's peril from such blackguards.'

'Aye,' Kydd answered morosely. 'The Collector expects forty or so in a vessel, fifty ashore t' lift cargo, others. Is it right to set our seamen in harm's way like this?'

'It is their duty,' Renzi said firmly, 'as it is yours. But do you not think the greater villain is he who funds and orders their depredations?'

'The greater villain's he who buys their run goods. There'd be no smuggling else.'

'Just so. It would, however, be a fine thing to examine these creatures at some length,' Renzi mused, 'in part for the insights we might gather into the sensibilities they violate in order to resolve a response to the claims of their perceived environment.'

'Will we discuss th' philosophy at another time?' Kydd said. 'I'll be returnin' on deck. Could sight th' rogues at any time.'

Midnight approached: still no sign of smugglers, let alone a ship. Wearily Kydd scanned the shore yet again. No lights, no signals. Praa Sands was out of sight behind Cudden Point and therefore there was nothing to indicate whether the landing was going on there, only an inky blackness.

A rocket soared into the night sky from beyond the point. 'Th' shore party! They've seen something. Hands t' th' braces—move y'rselves!' bellowed Kydd.

Another rocket sailed up, this time at a sharp angle out to sea. 'God rot it!' Kydd swore, looking over the side at the pitiful speed they were gathering. But with half Teazer's number on shore nothing could happen quickly.