quarterdeck but Cockburn pushed in front of him, barring his way. 'The quarterdeck is not the place for you any more, Kydd,' he said stiffly.
'I've got ev'ry right,' he snarled and, thrusting Cockburn contemptuously aside, he stalked on to the quarterdeck. All those who were aft froze.
Hawley strode out, and placed himself squarely in front of Kydd. He jammed on his gold-laced cocked hat at an aggressive angle and glowered at Kydd. 'You've just ten seconds to save your neck. Make your obedience and—'
'Sir,' said Kydd, touching his forehead. His gaze locked with Hawley's, not moving for a full ten seconds. Then he deliberately turned forward. 'You men at th' forebrace bitts,' he threw, in a hard bellow. 'Pass the word f'r the delegates.'
He turned slowly and waited until Coxall hastily made his appearance, Farnall close behind with a dozen men.
'I lay a complaint. Against this officer.' Kydd's fierce stare held Hawley rigid. 'He means t' break his solemn word, an' move against you - us!' There was an awed shuffling behind Kydd. 'I demand he be turned out o' th' ship, an unsuitable officer.'
There was hesitation for a fraction of a second: the incredible enormity of what he had done pressed in relendessly on Kydd, the knowledge that the moment could never be put back into its bottle, but in his exaltation that he had done right he would dare anything.
'Get y'r gear, sir. One chest is all,' Coxall said firmly. Two seamen moved forward and stood on each side of the officer, much the same as they would for a man to be led to the gratings for lashes.
'He's turned ashore — away larb'd cutter, Joe.'
Shocked, Hawley turned to confront Kydd. 'I shall see you dance at the yardarm if it's the last thing I do on earth.'
Coxall said evenly, 'Now then, sir, no sense in makin' it worse'n it is.'
It was like waking yet still being in a dream. Kydd moved about the decks, passing familiar things, trying to bring his mind to reality, yet all the while recalling Hawley in the receding boat, staring back at him.
Cockburn ignored him. The gunroom was full of tension, and it was impossible to remain, so Kydd slung his hammock forward. Some regarded him with wonder and curiosity, as though he were a condemned man walking among them.
The master waited until there was no one near and came up to Kydd, removing his hat. 'It's a brave thing ye're doing, Mr Kydd, an' I need to say as how I admires it in you.' His hands twisted the hat and he finished lamely, 'If it weren't f'r m' pension coming ver' soon— which I needs for m' wife and her sister livin' with us— I'd be there alongside ye an' all.'
In a half-world Kydd waited for word from the delegates — they said they needed to contact the president. He paced up and down, the exaltation ebbing little by little.
Then word came. 'Fr'm Mr Parker. He wants yer to go aboard Sandwich — an' help 'im personal, like. C'n we bear a hand wi' yer dunnage, mate?'
Parker was waiting for Kydd at the entry-port; his handshake was crisp and strong. 'A sincere welcome to you, my friend,' he said. 'Be so good as to join me at a morsel for dinner - we've a lot to discuss.'
As Kydd sat down at the table, Parker's eyes glowed. 'Tom, it's very good to see you here. It was my heartfelt prayer.' Kydd beamed. 'But might I ask why're you in the rig of a foremast hand? Where are your breeches, your blue coat?'
'O' course, I wanted to show me heart with our tars. Tell me, Dick, how goes things?'
Parker pushed back his plate with a smile, hooked his waistcoat with his thumbs and tilted back his chair. 'Success is very near, Tom, be assured of that.' He jumped to his feet. 'Come with me.'
They went out on to the sweeping curve of the admiral's stern walk. Before them was the entire anchorage of the Nore, dozens of ships of all descriptions, each tranquil and still.
'There! You see? Every one is owing allegiance to the great cause we have set in train. Each one like a link in a chain binding to the next, so we have an unbroken bond uniting us all. And see them - ships-of-the-line, frigates, even fire-ships — all with but one mind.'
