Repulse's sails caught the wind and she heeled, gathering way. Parker scrambled up the side of Director and could be seen arguing with her gun-crews — they had not opened up on Repulse as she slipped away — but then Repulse suddenly slewed and stopped, hard aground.
Parker flew into his boat again, and stood in the sternsheets wildly urging on its crew as it made for Monmouth, the closest to the stranded ship. He swarmed up the side and ran to her fo'c'sle. An indistinct scrimmage could be seen around a nine-pounder. Then it fired — and again.
Kydd watched in misery as Monmouth and other ships poured fire on Repulse. All the high-minded sacrifice, hard work and dedication, the loyalty and trust, now crumbling into vicious fighting.
Hundreds of Sheerness folk lined the foreshore to watch as the mutineers' guns thundered, the stink of powder smoke drifting in over them. They would have something to tell their grandchildren, Kydd thought blackly.
Miraculously Repulse seemed unscathed through the storm of fire. Then Kydd understood why. Savage splashes and spouts rose all around the ship, none on target, an appalling standard of gunnery — the gunners were firing wide.
The masts of Repulse changed their aspect as the ship floated free with the tide. She spread more canvas, eased off and away.
The night passed interminably. The ultimatum would expire at two in the afternoon. Would they then go to the capstans, bend on sail and set course for London? By this time tomorrow the biggest city in the world might be a smoking ruin - an impossible, choking thought.
Kydd couldn't sleep. He went on deck: the lights of the fleet were all around, the three-quarter moon showing the row-guards pulling slowly round the periphery of the anchorage. His eyes turned to other lights glimmering on shore. In the nightmare of the past few days he had not had time to think of Kitty. What would she be feeling now? Would she think badly of him? Had she already fled into the country?
His breast burned and, as he looked up at the stars, a terrible howl escaped into the night.
In the morning Parker appeared. There were dark rings round his eyes. 'Good day to you, Tom,' he said quiedy. 'My deliberations are done. And they are that we cannot do this thing. I am preparing a petition asking only that we receive pardon. We send this to the Admiralty today.'
An hour later, Captain Knight of Montagu arrived in a boat. He carried the King's reply. In the plainest words possible King George comprehensively condemned the actions of the mutineers and utterly refused to entertain any further communication.
Captain Knight carried back Parker's petition by return.
When the news emerged, there was outrage at Parker's betrayal: Director and Belliqueux shifted moorings to the bow of Sandwich to put her under their guns, and the wait resumed. At noon the fleet began to prepare for sea — sail bent on ready for loosing, lines faked out for running, topmen at their posts.
'Is the signal gun charged?' Parker hailed.
'Ye're not goin' ahead with it?' Kydd's voice broke with anguish.
'I am their president, they have voted for it, I will do my duty,' he said woodenly, turning away to consult his fob watch. 'It is now two. You may fire, if you please.'
The six-pounder cracked spitefully, and from all around the fleet came acknowledging gunfire. Capstans were manned, topmen lay out on the yard ready to loose sail. It was their final throw.
But a noise was heard, a swelling roar of voices, that welled up from the furthest reaches of all the ships. Fierce arguments, louder rejoinders, fighting — but not a capstan turned or a ship moved.
The seamen had decided: the mutiny was over.
They had fired on the King's ships, stood as a deadly threat to the government of the day and repudiated the King's Pardon. There would be no limit to the Admiralty's vengeance. It left Kydd numb, in a floating state between nightmare and reality, but also with a paradoxical sense of relief that all the striving, doubt and uncertainty were now resolved for ever.
He stood on the fo'c'sle with Parker, watching boats full of soldiers heading for any ship
