arrived at: he could alert the mutineers and nullify the action, but this he had coldly and logically decided was a matter touching on the safety of the realm, and it must remain.
Now it had to be. Renzi knew that the attention of the mutineers would be on celebrating the arrival of their powerful new brothers; this would be the only time that the daring operation planned by the Elder Brothers of Trinity House had even the slimmest of chances.
It was, besides, a source of some satisfaction that Hartwell had trusted him enough to divulge the plot and consult him on the timing. His strategy was working.
At last, sunset He waited for a further hour, then made his way in the dark to the jetty.
'Why, sir, you haven't a grego,' an oysterman said kindly. 'Ye surely needs one on th' water at this time o' night'
Renzi accepted the fishy-smelling surcoat and boarded the smack by the light of one dim lanthorn. 'How exciting!' he made himself say. 'What kind of creatures are abroad at this hour, I can hardly conceive!'
Under easy sail to the night airs, the smack put out into the Swale. The moon came and went behind ragged clouds, and Renzi scanned the night tensely.
A splash nearby startled him. 'Don' never mind him, sir. Jus'a fish out on a frolic'
They met the Medway and paid off to starboard. Still no sign. Then he caught a sudden blackening of the wan glitter of moon on sea. 'What's that?' he asked quickly.
'That? Oh, jus' the Trinity Yacht, sir. Don' righdy know why she's abroad now, don't usually.'
Renzi setded back with relief. It was happening. His part was now finished.
From seaward, the approaches to London beckoned with lights in a confusion of beguiling sea-paths — hundreds of golden pinpricks ashore and afloat, the larger navigation beacons and the Nore light-vessel.
The Thames met the sea in a maze of sandbanks that stretched out to sea for miles, each one marked with the wrecks of countless unfortunate vessels that had strayed from the deep-water channels. No sailing master in his right senses would attempt to enter or leave without thankful reference to the buoys and lights set and maintained by the brethren of the Corporation of Trinity House, whose ceaseless work continued even in wartime.
On this night, Trinity House began a different task. To the seamarks of the Whiting, Rough and Gunfleet to the north, Girdler, Shivering Sand and Pan in the centre, and the Blacktail, Mouse and Sheers, their vessels converged under the command of Captain Philip Bromfield.
The Trinity Yacht, purpose-built for buoy lifting and heavy cable work, slipped through the night to her first rendezvous. She was fitted with a massive capstan and particular cathead to starboard. Her decking was of Danzig deal for laying out buoy and ground tackle, but her captain did not rig for buoy lifting. Instead, the buoy was hove short and the night's quiet was broken by the sound of men wielding axes and hammers, smashing into carefully crafted staves, wrecking tightly caulked seams. Then the buoy was let go, to disappear into the black depths.
One by one the seaward buoys that the buoy warden of Trinity House had dedicated his life to preserve were sunk without a trace. The work continued through the night, as quietly as possible, as they approached the Nore and the mutinous fleet.
By morning it was complete, carried off during the only night when there was any chance of success — a daring feat that so easily could have gone wrong. To seaward not a buoy or beacon remained: the Nore fleet was trapped, unable to get out across lethal sandbanks now lying concealed under an innocent sea.
Kydd found Parker forward, right in the eyes of the ship, alone. He was gazing out across the smooth, unblemished sea to the hard grey line of the horizon, his face a picture of grief.
'Why? Why do they force my hand in this way?' Parker mouthed.
Kydd mumbled something, but his own mind was in a chaos of feeling. Just hours ago they were dictating terms to the King himself, now they were trapped in their own impregnable lair. He could see nothing but the blackness of defeat ahead. Their mighty fleet was impotent - they would rot in place until...
Kydd forced himself to the present. 'What was that ye said, Dick?'
Parker turned to him with an
