'Commander?' The officer held himself with heavy patience.
'May I know what's the meanin' o' this, sir?' Kydd said tightly, as he recovered himself. 'T' be rummaged like a country trader? This is a King's ship, sir, an' I'm her captain. I'll have good reason fr'm you, sir, afore I allow such a freedom.'
'Are you disputing the direct order of the admiral, sir?' Fellowes said acidly, holding up the paper.
'I'm asking f'r a right an' proper explanation of y'r actions, sir,' Kydd blazed.
'Come, come, sir. You have nothing to fear if you have nothing to hide.' There was no pity in the man's eyes.
The situation was absurd but also in deadly earnest. 'Very well, sir. Do ye require t' begin for'ard? I'll have th' men take up over the hold as soon as we secure fr'm sea.'
Fellowes wheeled round and beckoned to the boat's party, who lost no time in coming aboard. 'Leave the matter to us, Commander,' he said harshly. The men clambering over the bulwarks were hard-looking, practised in their movements, and assembled in a tight group before the captain.
'You know what to do.' The men trotted off—not forward, but aft, disappearing down the hatchway.
'Sir! I've a right t' know! What is it—' But Fellowes had turned his back on him and was gazing out to the dark bulk of Sark, tapping the paper impatiently against his thigh.
Suspiciously quickly, there was movement again at the hatchway. To Kydd's horror, the men were hauling up the confidential chest he had recovered with such pains and protected with so much secrecy. 'Belay that, you men!' he roared in anger.
They took no notice and Kydd turned hotly on the provost captain. 'Sir! Have y' men stop. That's a chest o' secrets f'r the admiral. Th' greatest confidentiality t' be observed—'
The petty officer in charge touched his hat to the provost captain, ignoring Kydd. 'In th' commander's bedplace, sir, under th' cot,' he reported.
Kydd struggled for words. 'That—that's—'
'A blackamoor tried t' stop us an' we had t' skelp him on th' calabash,' the petty officer added impassively.
'Tysoe! Y' poxy villains! I'll—'
'That's enough, Commander,' Fellowes rapped. 'I have now to ask you to accompany me ashore, if you please.'
Kydd hesitated, but only for a moment. The sooner the business was sorted out the better. The box was still unopened and its secrets safe. Perhaps this was, after all, a long-winded way to get it ashore.
'Very well. An' the chest remains secured, th' contents not t' be seen.'
'Of course.' There was nothing for it but to board the boat, leaving an open-mouthed Standish to complete the moor, then begin harbour routine and storing for the next voyage.
There was no conversation on the passage back; the other boat fell in astern and Kydd realised that the soldiers were there to enforce a predetermined course of action and his unease turned to alarm. This was no simple mistake.
They headed for Smith Street and the headquarters ashore, the seamen bearing the chest following closely behind. Saumarez's flag still flew and Kydd's anxieties began to subside. Soon he would know what it was about.
They entered a small room and Kydd was shown to a single chair on one side while Fellowes sat behind a table. The chest had been delivered intact and lay in the centre. Two marines stood guard over it.
Saumarez strode in. 'Ah, sir!' said Kydd in relief, scrambling to his feet. 'There's been a—a misunderstanding o' sorts.'
Saumarez ignored him. 'Is this what you found?' he asked Fellowes.
'It is, sir.'
Kydd blinked. 'This is th' secret chest. Your chest, sir,' he blurted.
'My chest?' Saumarez said in amazement. 'You think to make it mine, sir?' His voice thickened in anger. 'Open it!'
'But—but, sir, we can't do that.'
'Pray why not?'
Kydd's mind reeled. 'Because, sir, this is the confidential chest y' ordered me t' recover, wi' secret, um, things as can't be shown t' the ordinary sort!'
Saumarez looked at Kydd in disbelief. 'I gave orders? You're attempting to say that I gave orders? No, sir, this will not do! It will not do at all!'
'S-sir!' Kydd pleaded. 'Don't open it in front o' the others, I beg.' Was he going mad?
Saumarez paused, looking at Kydd keenly. 'Then I'll clear the room. All except Captain Fellowes to withdraw and remain outside.' He waited until the three were alone. 'Now we open the chest. Please oblige us, Captain.'
Fellowes cut the cords then threw back the lid. Saumarez took a sharp breath as the contents were revealed —bundles of intricately worked lace and silk goods.
'I—this is . . .' Kydd could find no words.
Saumarez drew himself up, his features suddenly old and weary. 'Take this officer to the blue room,' he said dully. 'I will deal with him presently.'
Kydd tried to make sense of it. In just a single hour his entire world had been turned upside-down. Why was Saumarez denying his own orders? Had the secret chest been waylaid and a substitute made for him to convey unwittingly in its place? How had the searchers known where
