goin' ter take 'em b' surprise, the Crapauds.' He sighted along the line of beach. A couple of small fishing boats were drawn up nearby but otherwise it was clear along to the town, a mile or so away. 'We pelts along, through th' town and takes 'em from th' inside. Won't know what hits 'em. An' this'll make 'em take their eyes off of the Cap'n while he cuts out th' brig.' He glared around the group of seamen, as if daring comment.
Kydd could see the peril that Farrell would face, coming out of the dawn to find too late the soldiers ready to fall on his band. It couldn't be allowed to happen: Stirk was right to take action. But a frontal assault on soldiers? It was courageous, but against armed troops in their own positions — no, they would have no chance except to sacrifice themselves in the hope that it would not be in vain. The emotional switch from exhilaration, through apprehension to dogged acceptance was cruel.
A quiet voice announced, 'There they is'.' The low bulk of a sugar lighter crept into distant view from the north. They were committed: Farrell had no idea of the soldiers, and when he saw them closer to he would probably press ahead rather than let down his other party.
Kydd forced his mind to go cool. There had to be a diversion to take attention from Farrell to themselves. But did it have to be a full assault? Could it be.. . 'Toby,' Kydd said. Stirk swung about to face him. 'Might be, we c'n do it another way.'
From Stirk's compressed lips and glittering eyes, Kydd knew that he was keyed up for what had to be done. 'Yeah? I can't see one, cuffin.'
Kydd persevered: an alternative was forming in his mind. 'Look, we don't have t' go at 'em front on. We c'n just—'
Stirk stepped up to him. 'Kydd, we do it the way I said!' he snarled. 'In case yer've forgotten, I'm in charge.'
'Aye, Toby,' Kydd replied carefully. 'Youse in command right enough — just sayin' that we don't have
Breathing heavily, Stirk grabbed his shirt-front by both hands. Then he spoke slowly and savagely: 'Kydd, I didn't reckon on it, but you're a piggin' shy cock.'
Kydd was aware of the circle of silent men around him, but felt a rising anger. 'An' you're fuckin' blind! Why don't you want t' hear of somethin' else?'
Stirk released Kydd's shirt slowly. 'Let's hear it,' he said finally. His eyes held Kydd's unblinkingly.
Kydd tried to bring a lucidity, a logical sequence to his ideas as Renzi always did. 'We've got to get the Frogs t' pay attention to us, right? Look away fr'm the lighter, get worried about us. We c'n do that. We launches th' longboat an' has a go at the brig.'
'That's yer idea?' said Stirk incredulously.
'Not yet. See, the longboat is chasin' one of the little fishin' boats, who o' course are screamin' f'r help. Frogs'll be wantin' t' see if they c'n make it across to them.'
Stirk's brow creased.
'Best part is — well, if you were them soldiers, what would ye think?'
An indistinct murmur came from behind, but Kydd pressed on: 'You'd think that this fishin' boat is just escaped cos the English were invadin' th' town fr'm the other side! An' you'd want t' get there sharpish.'
Doggo's rough voice came from the left. 'So th' soldiers get flustered 'n' rushes off ter deal with it, leavin' it clear f'r the Seaflowers!'
'Yeah.'
Stirk hesitated — but the lighter was in clear view and would begin its final approach shortly. A small smile appeared, and he mock-saluted Kydd. 'What's yer orders, then, mate?'
Kydd wasted no time. 'We six in th' fishin' boat,' he said, indicating the nearest five men. 'Wait f'r us t' get afloat, an' get after us. We get aboard t' the for'ard you lay off until Cap'n comes up, an' we all go at it together.'
The light was stronger. Before they broke cover to take the small boat, Kydd thought of something. 'Strip off, or they'll see we ain't Frenchies.' They
