The Privateer's Revenge

'There's six gun-brigs, an' more building on th' inner strand,' Kydd went on remorselessly.

Something in the muddy water caught Renzi's eye; a subliminal flick of paleness and mottled black. It must be desperately shallow here and—

His mind went cold: years of experience told him that the sea state had changed. The tide was now well and truly on the ebb— Queripel's calculations had been proved inaccurate in these local conditions: they had been counting on an approach with the flood and retreat on the ebb.

It might already be too late. Renzi's imagination saw them making desperately for the open sea only to grind to a sickening stop on some tidal bank. 'Er, tide's well on the ebb,' he said, with an edge in his voice.

'Take this down. A frigate—say a 24—building t' th' north, wi' at least ten flat barges next t' it.'

'I do believe we should put about now,' Renzi said pointedly, with an odd half-smile. The piers were near enough that a sentry could be seen looking down on them curiously.

Renzi tried to catch Stirk's eye but he was doing something with the lug-yard. 'Tom, we have enough as will convince even—'

'Stand by t' go about!' Kydd hissed. A coastal brig was coming up fast astern, a marked feather of white at her forefoot and, in her relative size, indescribably menacing. Renzi stood ready with his knife.

'Lee-oh!'

The blade severed the bucket rope in one, and at the same time the steering oar dug deeply. Then Renzi understood what Stirk had done: a lugger had to dip the yard round the mast when going about, but he had furtively laid it on the wrong side at the cost of their sailing speed. When they had turned, it was already on the correct side and had gloriously filled, sending the bow seaward.

Renzi leaped to the main lug and worked furiously on the heavy yard. Distant screams of rage across the water made him look up and he saw the brig bearing down on them, frighteningly close. They had not gathered enough speed to clear its path—and the close-hauled larger vessel hemmed in by shoals clearly would not be able to avoid them.

Stirk gripped the gunwale and stared in horror at the onrushing ship but Kydd remained immovably at his post. On the brig men were running urgently to the foredeck shouting, gesticulating.

The ship plunged nearer, its bowsprit spearing the air above them and suddenly it was upon them—but the swash from the bluff bows thrust them aside and they were clear by inches, the barrelling hull towering up and rushing past almost close enough to touch, the noise of her wash sounding like a waterfall. And then it was over, the plain transom receding and men at her taffrail shaking their fists at the lunatic fishermen.

The old boat gathered way agonisingly slowly, her gear straining. Renzi knew that high above them in the fort their antics were being pointed out and probably puzzled over, especially the odd fact that they were shaping course not along the coast but heading directly out to sea.

Now all depended on speed. It would not be long before the French woke up to their audacious incursion and then . . .

The first dismaying sign was the sound of a thin crack high up.

Gunsmoke eddied away next to a signal mast at the tip of the headland, clearly to bring attention to a string of flags that had been peremptorily hoisted.

They stood on doggedly but then a deeper-throated thud sounded and, seconds later, a plume arose between them and the open sea.

Renzi looked again over the side and saw that anonymous seabed features were becoming visible in the murky water. Then, with a bump and slewing, they came to a halt.

It was now deadly serious: if they could not get off within minutes they would find themselves left high and dry by the receding tide, easy prey for soldiers cantering up on horses.

'Over th' side!' Kydd shouted, leaping over the low gunwale into the water. It was hard, serrated rock underfoot, the striations parallel with the coast. They manhandled the big boat, heaving until their muscles burned. It moved. Then, juddering, it found deeper water and suddenly they were dangling from the gunwale. At the limits of their strength they flung themselves inboard panting, and hauled in on the slatting and banging sails.

Stirk saw them first. 'Be buggered—they's after us!' he gasped, pointing back to the harbour entrance. One by one gunboats were issuing out. It was now all but over.

'Sheet in!' Kydd roared. The chasse-maree leaned and showed her breeding, perfectly suited to the shallow waters of the Brittany coast. But it would not be enough against the half-dozen vessels now in fierce pursuit.

Then quickly it was all over. In obedience to orders, and at the appointed time, HMS Teazer appeared round the headland, her colours flying and guns ablaze.

CHAPTER 5

THE LARGE, AIRY UPPER ROOM at Government House, St Peter Port, with sunlight beaming in from tall windows, was ideally suited for a captains' conference. The commanding officers of His Majesty's ships in Guernsey Roads sat round the long table with, at the head, in his gold lace and decorations, Admiral Sir James Saumarez. Distinguished at St Vincent and the Nile, victor of Algeciras, he made an imposing figure.

'Gentlemen.' His grave glance took them all in—Selby, captain of the frigate Cerberus at the foot, with the sloop commanders on each side: Carthew of Scorpion, O'Brien of Harpy, Kydd of Teazer and the rest.

'I have no need to remind you of the utmost seriousness of our situation with Bonaparte adding daily to his arsenal for his enterprise against England. We have now received intelligence of a most disturbing nature directly affecting this station, concerning the harbour of Granville, which is, as you must be aware, apart from St Malo, the only anchorage worth the name in all the two hundred miles between Cherbourg and Brest.'

Studied blank looks indicated that this was old news to most.

Saumarez continued: 'It would appear that Granville is being readied to play a major role in the armament and building of invasion barges and support craft, concentrating them there in great numbers—yes, Captain Selby?'