his unaccustomed writing, just as the sunny afternoon was giving way to a warm dusk. He found Parker in fine form, the centre of a crush of seamen. Kydd smiled, letting his friend do what he did best, and settled at a distance. 'Shant o' y'r best,' he threw at the pot-boy. He was looking forward to visiting Kitty: she would be finished with her work at sundown. The beer arrived, dark and foaming, and he took a grateful pull.
He looked idly about: there were few he knew — one or two Achilles, a Sandwich or three. The Chequers was known as the rendezvous of the delegates, and Kydd could think of many who would be too apprehensive to enter. The buzz of talk and Parker's high voice droned on, and Kydd started to nod off. A noise outside did not register, and a young seaman burst into the room shouting: 'It's true, I swear it! It's all over, mates, an' we got what we want!' The room broke into a babble of excitement.
'Gangway, yer mundungo-built beggar! Let's see what it's all about.'
The crowd about Parker deserted him instantly and surrounded the ecstatic sailor. 'Spithead - they got it all setded! They gets pay. 'n' all - an' a full pardon, damn me eyes! Black Dick Howe 'imself signed the paper.'
A rising elation swept away Kydd's weariness.
'Where did you hear this?' Parker called, above the uproar. If it was true, and it was a victory, their own mutiny had lost its purpose.
'I got it straight fr'm th' telegraph office. They just got word fr'm Spithead, an' the Admiralty sends it on t' here.' By a miracle of the clacking shutters spaced out between Sheerness and the roof of the Admiralty in London, apparently word of the settlement had been relayed to them over the long miles.
'Clap a stopper on yer jabber, Joe, let's hear it all.'
The young sailor paused. 'Well, t' tell the truth, Mr Wells it was tol' me. He works f'r Admiral Buckner.'
The room grew quiet. 'So it could be a rumour, like?' someone piped up.
'No, can't be!' the sailor said scornfully. 'He showed me th' signal 'n' said I was t' find Mr Parker an' tell him.'
The room fell silent as the enormity of the event sank in. Kydd glanced over to Parker, who was shaking his head slowly, a weary smile on his face. 'What's t' do, Dick?' he said.
Parker didn't answer at first, then looked about the room, catching the eye of this one and that.
'Yair, what next, then, Dick?' came a call.
Levering himself to his feet, Parker stood before them. His hands grasped the lapels of his coat. 'Brothers,' he began softly, 'can I ask you one question? Just the one! And if you can answer it to satisfaction, then I'll sit down again and be silent.'
Uncertain smiles showed, men glanced at one another.
'This I ask, then. If you were in power — at the highest — and your entire fleet was in the hands of those who have embarrassed you with the exposing of your perfidy, and you are desperate, would it not be a rattling good plan to win back control by a very simple contrivance? You tell the Nore that the Spithead matter is resolved, and to Spithead you say that the Nore is reconciled. In this way, you get both to return to duty, and having dropped their defences you are then at liberty to seek whatever vengeance ...' The words hung in the silence. 'Then, this I ask, shipmates, is this an impossible plan?'
'Be damned! They wouldn't—'
'The slivey fucksters! Once they got us t' sea—'
'They lied at th' Culloden trials. My mate—'
The room broke into angry shouts, but Parker held up his arms for order. 'I say then, we hold fast. We keep the faith. Only when we have proof— solid evidence - will we even begin to consider the situation.' He sat down to shouts and gusts of applause, accepting a large glass as he did so. But when Kydd next saw him, he was looking distracted.
'Why, Tom, m' darlin'!' Kitty laughed. 'Such a surprise!' She kissed him soundly. Then she gazed at him earnesdy, and hugged him tight. 'Do take care of y'rself, m' dear Tom,' she whispered. 'In m' bones, I have a dreadful feelin' this is all goin' to end wi' blood an' weepin'
