Seaflower

'Aye, sir!' Kydd's certainty seemed to unsettle Gardiner, who muttered something indistinct, but waited.

'We sighted breakers next to loo'ard, an' because L'tenant Rowley had come off the wind, they were fast coming in under our lee an' no time to stay about.'

There was a breathy silence. Gardiner's face hardened.

'You are alleging that the loss of Artemis was directly attributable to this officer's actions?'

There was now no avoiding the issue. He must stand by his words, which he must repeat at length in court, or abjectly deny them. 'Yes, sir!' he said firmly.

Gardiner leaned back slowly, fixing Kydd with his hard eyes. Unexpectedly, he sighed. 'Very well, we will take your deposition.'

There was a meaningful cough from the clerk. Gardiner turned slightly and something passed between them that Kydd was unable to catch. Resuming his gaze Gardiner added, 'And in your own words, if you please.'

Concentrating with all his might Kydd told the simple story of the destruction of the crack frigate, from the first chilling sight of breakers in mid-Atlantic to her inevitable wrecking on an outer ledge of rock on one of the islands of the Azores.

But he said nothing of the personal heartbreak he felt at the death of the first ship he had really loved, the ship that had borne him round the world to so many adventures, that had turned him from tentative sailor to first-class seaman and petty officer. He also omitted the story of the nightmare of the break-up of the wreck during the night and his desperate swim for his life among the relentless breakers, the joy at finally finding himself alive. Those details would not interest these legal gentlemen.

'Thank you,' said Gardiner, and glanced at the clerk, whose hand flew across the paper as he transcribed Kydd's words. 'It seems complete enough.' His detachment was a mystery after the savage inquisition of before.

The clerk finished, sanded the sheet and shuffled it in together with the rest 'Yell need to put y'r mark on each page/ he said offhandedly.

Kydd bristled. He had debated Diderot and Rousseau in the Great South Sea with Renzi, and never felt himself an unlettered foremast hand. He dashed off a distinguished signature on each page.

'You may return to your ship,' said Gardiner neutrally, standing. Kydd rose also, satisfied with the catharsis of at last telling his tale. 'We will call upon your testimony as the court decides,' Gardiner added. Kydd nodded politely and left.

Renzi sat on the sea-chest he shared with Kydd. They had lost everything in the shipwreck, nothing to show for their great voyage around the world. His friend was fashioning a trinket box from shipwright's offcuts and bone inlay to present to his adoring sister when he finally made his way up the London road to the rural peace of Guildford.

'Nicholas, you'll be right welcome at home, m' friend, y' know, but have ye given thought t' your folks?'

Renzi looked up from his book, his eyes opaque. 'I rather fancy my presence will not be as altogether a blessed joy as yours will be to your own family, dear fellow.' He did not elaborate and Kydd did not pursue it. The sensibilities that had led to Renzi's act of self-exile from his family were not to be discussed, but Kydd was aware that in becoming a common sailor Renzi could only be regarded as a wanton disgrace by his well-placed family.

Renzi added casually, 'If it does not disoblige, it would give me particular joy to bide awhile chez  Kydd.' He didn't find it necessary to say that this would renew his acquaintance of Cecilia, Kydd's handsome sister.

Kydd sighed happily. 'I told 'em everything Nicholas — I say my piece afore the court, an' we're on our way home!' His keen knife shaved a thin sliver from the lid, rounding the edge.

Renzi looked at his friend. Kydd's account of his questioning was disturbing. In his bones he felt unease.

'Yes,