Caribbee(112)

Realisation came slowly, but when it did there were sharp intakes of breath and uneasy looks.

‘Yes, mates. One of us. Come aft the hard way, now he always takes care o’ them as fights the ship for him. I’ve known him off ’n’ on for years since, and never ’ave I seen ’im let down ’is shipmates. Never.’

Haywood turned pale.

‘Now he’s in a right stew, no one t’ look out for ’im, no bugger to speak up for ’im. An’ all because us jolly tars won’t see ’im right in the article of owning t’ the crime.’

He turned and faced Haywood, looking at him steadily. ‘I’m not the one t’ peach on another, but if Tom Kydd gets his’n, on account another won’t step forward, I’d let every ship, watch, every mess-deck an’ every shellback in the whole o’ King George’s Navy know the name o’ the one who let him suffer. This I swear!’

In the shocked silence not a soul moved.

Then Haywood threw back his shoulders as though getting rid of a load. ‘No need for threats, mate. M’ mind was made up beforetimes. I’ll go. He’ll not swing.’

Stirk nodded slowly. ‘Cuffin. I’m still goin’ to tell it like it is – that as brave a cove as I know did the right thing when he could’ve walked away from it all.’ He held out his hand. ‘I want to shake yer hand, Mr Haywood.’

He did so, slowly and solemnly.

Turning quickly, Haywood pushed through the crowd, heading aft. ‘Where yer goin’, Jeb?’ someone called.

‘I said I’d do it, an’ I am – an’ that’s right now.’

The others hurried after him, but he strode on.

Stirk forced his way through and grabbed him by the arm. ‘Jeb, mate. Let’s see it’s done right by you. Not a lot o’ sense to give yourself over without you has someone t’ speak for ye. Don’t yez have L’tenant Bowden servin’ in this hooker still?’

‘Aye. An’ he’s aboard, in his cabin this hour.’

‘So let’s see him.’

The crowd had now swollen to more than a hundred and others swarmed up from the identical lower deck to join the throng. The young master’s mate tried to stop them, but Stirk was having none of it. ‘Ask L’tenant Bowden if he’s at liberty t’ come an’ talk.’

Bowden appeared out of the cabin spaces, looking tired and bewildered. ‘Mr Stirk, what are you … What do all these men want?’

‘Theys askin’ f’r a steer, like,’ he said to the young lieutenant, realising it must look like rank mutiny.

‘Er, what do you mean?’

It was the work of brief minutes to explain.

Bowden looked incredulous for a moment, then found his tongue. ‘You did right, you men. And I’m to do my part.’

To the master’s mate, he snapped an order: ‘Away all boats!’

‘B-but, sir, I can’t—’

‘Damn your eyes! I’m off to see the admiral. Do you question my order, sir?’ As senior officer on board HMS Hannibal he had every right, of course.

Hundreds of sailors swarmed down the side and tumbled into the boats, shipping oars and setting out for the shore. They passed ship after ship of the squadron, dark and lifeless as they settled down for the night, then too late coming to their senses as the boats pulled by, fully loaded with excited men.

At the stone steps the seamen disembarked and immediately hoisted Haywood on to their shoulders, setting off with Bowden proud and determined at their head through a late-night St John’s rudely awakened by the excitement.

It was exhilarating and fearful, shocking and exotic to be caught up in events that had changed things so fast and so completely. As they turned into the avenue leading to the admiral’s residence, the enormity of what they were about to do must have penetrated, for the excited shouts died away until there was now nothing but a silent body of hundreds of men tramping up to the torch-lit entrance of the Admiral’s Pen.

From the lights within, Bowden guessed that a card party was in progress – Cochrane was known to be partial to his bridge. Bowden held up his hand, and when the men had shuffled to a stop, he went up to the door and knocked.

A footman answered and was shocked by what he saw out in the darkness silently waiting. ‘S-sir?’

‘Admiral Cochrane. On a matter of extreme urgency,’ Bowden demanded.

‘Er, yes, sir. Immediately, sir!’

There was a slight delay before an irritated Cochrane appeared.

‘What the devil?’ he spluttered, seeing the hundreds of men quietly before him.

‘Sir,’ Bowden said quickly, ‘these men have come in support of their shipmate, who begs he might be allowed to admit to the death of Captain Tyrell.’